My Gammie, Mildred Catherine Stevens
February 26th, 2009 § Leave a Comment
The best kind of person to have in your life is someone you have so many memories with it is impossible to recount every one. Ironically, that also makes them the hardest kind of person to lose. Even though my Gammie lived for 90 years and 7 months, I will never feel as if I had enough time to share with her.We were always very close. My positioning with her was God given, if you will, favoritism attributed mostly to the fact that out of 4 grandchildren, I was the youngest and the only girl. But our connection was more than that. Growing up I always knew no moment was complete until I shared it with her. No news that I had was ever received with more enthusiasm than when I told my Gammie about it. No one thought I was prettier, smarter or more talented than my Gammie did. If I was teased at school – which I was, often – she was the first to tell me that the other kids were just jealous of me. And she said it with such conviction that sometimes I even believed her. When I would visit her, the first 10 minutes were filled with her telling me how pretty I was or how much she loved me. Everyone needs that kind of love in their life.
Without her in our life, my mom, my brother and I would have been lost. Some may think it unfortunate that my mom had to move back in with my grandparents when we were young. But it was an amazing gift and a time I will forever feel fortunate for. Living with my grandparents meant every day after school I came home to a bowl of M&M’s, Nickelodeon and my Gammie who was always there to be with Erik and me. It meant that after school when everyone else was being picked up in their mom’s mini vans, my brother and I got to be picked up by a black Camero by our Gammie who wore leather pants and dangly earrings. Gammie made my brother and I special and unique. Everyone wanted a grandma like ours. One who favored playing tennis and wearing Poison perfume over their grandmothers who knitted and smelled like old wool.
As I got older and moved out of the house my Grandma’s house was where I would return to when I felt like my world was spinning out of control. It was the one place I had on this earth where I felt safe. And like all wonderful grandparents do, my Gammie would make sure when I would visit that I had enough to eat and when I left her house I always left with more than I came with. Whether it be a bag of groceries foraged from her cupboard, coupons, magazines, candy or a few extra dollars to help me out. Gammie was my haven and my soft place to land. After our visit together she would walk me out to my car and as I drove away I could always see her lips moving as she said her ritualistic prayer for me which she was convinced would keep me safe, “Wrap Stacy in white, with Saint Christopher and Saint Jude on her shoulders.”
Right about a year before my Gammie began leave the house less and less, she and I would meet for coffee every Friday before I went into work and before she got her weekly haircut. We would spend an hour every Friday sitting and talking. I loved those visits.
Over the past few years my Gammie’s sparkle began to fade. She has been in and out of the hospital countless times. Many of which we didn’t think she would make it out from. Our visits of lengthy talks and catching up were replaced by her circle of questions, “Are you happy?”, “What have been up to?”, “What do you do for fun…see any good movies lately?” And those questions would be asked over and over for the entire span of our time together. It broke my heart to let go of her little by little. It broke my heart to see her legs swell with fluid, to hear her constant coughing and wheezing. My Gammie never wanted to be old. She never wanted to be sick and in pain. She was like lightning, strong, fiery and electric. But time had reduced her to less than that and I knew it made her sad. She was trapped in a body that didn’t match her spirit. For 90, she looked amazing but for Gammie, she looked sick.
This Christmas, although my Gammie still wore her pretty Chico’s outfit and was decked out in all her usual accessories. She had two new accessories that made my heart sick – an oxygen tank and a wheelchair. I knew it wasn’t long until she would leave me….until she would leave us. But I just don’t know how to let her go.
My Gammie is vibrant and sparkly. She would enter a room of strangers but would leave the room with friends. And I loved her so very much. I know she was hurting, I know she was sick. I know she wanted so badly to let go but no matter what, I am not ready. Even though I feel like I have been trying to prepare myself for years, I am not prepared for this. I am not ready to let her go or to let her fade away. To do that would mean I too fade away because so much of what I am is because of her. She knew how much I loved her, she knew how much she meant to me and I know how much she loved me – which is why letting her go is so hard.
Thanks But No Thanks for the Memories?
February 16th, 2009 § Leave a Comment
There is a story in today’s news about a new pill being tested by the Dutch that will erase painful memories or to frame it more accurately, it will block the unfortunate emotions tied to the event. The painful memories we have would essentially be replaced by feelings of numbness, happiness or even euphoria. The drug is being developed by the University of Amsterdam and is known as Propranolol, many may be familair with the liquid form of this drug…alcohol. I joke.
But seriously people, I have to wonder where we are headed as a “modern society”. We live in a society that is more detached than it has ever been. Customer service is mostly automated, people text instead of calling each other, we learn how and what our friends are doing by reading their Facebook status’. Children spend hours on the computer, we watch countless hours of television. Even I am guilty of watching so many movies that sometimes I can’t decipher fact from fiction. So to me, a pill that will make us more detached from the events that are happening in our lives makes me uneasy. Isn’t part of living…learning? And without living through emotions, without experiencing pain tied to certain experiences aren’t we robbing ourselves of valuable life lessons? They say this pill won’t erase the memory of the event but it will make you essentially numb to the bad feelings that the memory brings. I realize this pill could be very useful for treating symptoms of PTSD, however I think there always needs to be a great amount of caution when using any drug to numb feelings, no matter how severe. By drugging a symptom you are truly just masking the cause and not fixing a thing.
Personally, I’m not sure I would take a pill that would erase my emotions. First, I have seen Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and given I learn most of my life lessons in a dark theatre, I know how this one ends! I also know there is a lot of wisdom to be found in pain. Because of the pain I have lived through, I know what I want out of relationships, I know what I will and won’t put up with, I have learned the importance of telling those you love how you feel about them as often as possible, because I know what the pain of not doing so brings. I know the pain of being seen as ugly and as a result I have a much better understanding of beauty. So, although I’ve lived through some painful moments, as everyone has, I am with Bob Hope in saying, “thanks for the memories”. While this may be a drug for some people, I say thanks but no thanks, that’s too tough a pill for me to swallow!
Sunset Junction a.k.a. Funnest Day Ever!
February 9th, 2009 § Leave a Comment
If there is one big lesson I took out of 2008, it was that it’s much better to have a friend in a band, than it is to have a boyfriend in a band. Ilya and I decided to go see Mikel play at Sunset Junction, an annual Sunset favorite, and had one of THE BEST Ilya and Stacy days ever! We spent the early afternoon walking around people watching as we waited for Mikel and The Airborne Toxic Event to begin their performance. 
The day was a lovely, 103 degrees and all the beer in the world couldn’t convince me that I wasn’t about to pass out from heat exhaustion. At one point, I kept telling Ilya that the world was going dark and I was about to pass out. I downed a beer and a hot dog and all was well again.
After ATE’s performance Ilya and I, in rare groupie form went “backstage”, which was more of a back gate than anything, and said hello to Mikel. Like a true rock star, the last time I had seen him was when he stumbled off into the night, pissed off for some reason beyond me. Ah, the life of a tortured romantic musician! Suffice it to say, Mikel was better to admire at a distance. Today, ATE is gaining popularity and has a regular presence on all the local radio stations. It is great to watch him succeed in something that is so dear to him, and it is well deserved, ATE is an amazing and talented band.
Ilya and I found ourselves going with Mikel and the band to some random bar which felt like an oasi. The mixture of cold beer and air conditioning meant that we weren’t about to leave this dark bar and venture off into the hot hot heat and LA sunshine anytime soon. 
Why do I look so much more posey in this picture than he does?
But not in this one!!! Ah, the drunken Jollet’s – Mikel and his big bro.
Now this guy was hilarious, his name is Tim and he is from a band called “The Movies”. Not only does he love to drink but he is a self professed lover of black girls…HI YO! 
This is the back of Anna. If you are a regular watcher of Leno, Letterman or Conan you would be more familair with the front of her. She is in Airborne and plays the violin…and the tambourine.
You aren’t truly a local of Los Angeles, until you have been drunk at some random person’s, indie band house party in the bowels of Sunset Junction, dated a rising musician and vowed to never date another musician. And for 2008, I was a local Angelino…and in 2009 I am happy to say, I have moved away and onward.
