Something Real

I'm not immune to the pressures and preferences of our culture, though there has always been a part of me that rebels at them.

When I get to the crux of the matter, though, I don't think appearances matter nearly so much as we sometimes think.

At the same time, I'm a designer and artist who cares very much about how things look, and I'm meticulous about details when I need to be. It's a tension, I'll admit.

A few years ago, I wrote a letter that included what appears below. It's also something of a tribute to my grandmother, the one who has not yet been pictured here.

At my grandmother's funeral, I looked at her before they closed the casket and I had a fuller realization of something that's important to me. I have always known this, and maybe, to some extent, we all do---but it hit home with me in a very real way when I saw her.

I looked at her body there, and I knew for certain it was not her, or not what consituted the main part of her.

It is what was inside—her spirit, her soul—that was the most important part of her. It manifested itself in little things about her—how she played the piano with passion even in her 80’s, how she spoke with a sexy voice without meaning to and blushed when we teased her about it, how she fed the dog at the table even though Grandpa told her not to, how she was so gentle that birds would eat from her hand.

She was my grandmother who was a constant in my life, who stroked my head gently when I sat next to her while we watched Grandpa’s slides, who rejoiced when I learned how to read and gave me books as soon as I could ask for them.

She was my grandma who wrote poetry about trees, who would not let Grandpa record her playing because it was not “perfect” (but he did anyway on the sly), who could listen to music and nearly swoon, who had her faults. But even all this is only part of the sum of her. It is her spirit, her soul, that was, that is, her.

I have a friend who told me that she knew her first marriage was doomed when she discovered it was mostly about looks and status; I agree. Those things don't last and they don't matter nearly as much as we sometimes think. If that was what my grandparents' union had been mostly about, I doubt that it would have lasted, either.

Yes, I think we need to take care of our physical selves---I've learned that later in life. Sure, the outside matters, too.

But it's the inside that counts most. That's my opinion, anyway.