Just Relax, Babe xx
11 May, 2015
My grandmother passed away two months ago. She was wonder woman, more or less, and she never left the house without her pearls, a classy purse, and a custom blazer jumpsuit. Seriously, she was the most chic woman I had ever met, and the gifts she gave me were out of this world: A beautiful quartz gem ring, a hand-made mink hat, hand-stitched fur gloves... I hope to be half the woman (and gift buyer) she was one day.
Since the funeral, I've been slowly blowing dust off boxes of her belongings. I've found old classic novels she used to read (Jane Eyre & Wuthering Heights being her favorites) bound in real gold-lined paper. I opened a bronze jewelry box to find priceless rings and earrings I've been trying to wear every day. And I found a couple old scrapbooks. I mean, like really old.
Flipping through one of those scrapbooks tonight, I came across a story she wrote when she was merely 8 years old.
Once upon a time, the noisiest place in the world was a city called Hub-Bub. The people of Hub-Bub never talked, they only yelled. They were very proud their ducks were the quackiest, their doors the slammiest, and their police whistles the shrilliest in the whole wide world. I wouldn't want to live in Hub-Bub.
The funny thing is, reading the poem helped me realize how much she hadn't changed from a young girl to an old woman. My grandmother never left her small town of Ripon, Wisconsin of only 7,000 people. I mean, she obviously took vacations; she went to Europe and the Caribbean a few times, but she never actually lived in any other town.
A few months back, right before her passing, I asked her if she had any regrets staying in one place. I asked if she ever got bored, if the town got dull, or if the people grew stale. Her answer?
"Paige, baby, everything I loved was right here. My husband, my children, my childhood friends, my favorite book stores, my favorite downtown coffee shops. I love how the snow glimmers in the sun on the hill at Ripon College, and the feeling of long afternoons boating on the lake in the summertime.
There's nothing I'm more thankful for than planting my roots in this quiet town. It gave me room to think, it gave me friends for life, and it took away the pressure of living. It was easy, honey. And the time sure went fast. I was born here and will die here, and I couldn't be happier about it.
Sometimes, life isn't about far-off adventures. It's about simple pleasures; inviting your next door neighbor for tea, scones, and card games; sipping cold drinks on the pontoon; meeting your best friends for brunch. Don't worry about the hustle-and-bustle of what the world tells you is supposed to be fun, pleasurable, or exciting. Usually, the most treasured things in life are the simplest."
I was blown away, and I know I'll never forget that advice. My grandma is with Jesus now, but it's obvious she lived her life to the fullest. She didn't find it important to follow passing trends, she stuck to what she knew best: loving her family, wearing her pearls, and enjoying the small pleasures of small town living.
One of my favorite things about my grandmother was her love for the classics. Classic movies, classic clothes, classic novels, and classic music. She wasn't one for loud, crazy, obnoxious things in life, her life was too full of pleasant, lovely "treasures," as she called them.
What about you? Do you find yourself liking certain trends or following certain rules because of your Facebook feed? Are the shows you're watching affecting your ideas on life? What about the music you hear or the magazines you read?
My advice, courtesy of the world's classiest grandma (shown on left):
If it makes your head hurt, don't do it. If it gives you anxiety, don't listen to it. If it makes you self-conscious, don't read it. If they hurt your feelings, don't hang out with them. If it degrades your beliefs, don't watch it.
Life goes fast. A few months ago I was chatting with my grandma over cookies and cocoa, and now she's gone. But, she sure lived life to the fullest. Not based on the world's perceptions, but based on her own. As an 8-year-old, she knew big city living wasn't for her, and she respected that her whole life long. She ruled her life, and she understood the true meaning of it.
In memory of my grandma, here's some chill, introspective music to help you ponder your life. What's important to you? What type of life do you want to live?
Sit back, grab a tea and a blankie, and think: how can life become simpler, quieter, and overwhelmingly lovely?
Where Are You Going - Dave Matthews Band
