grandma, loss, death, family, hummingbird, motherhood, daughters, grief, support
Family, Favorite Things, Life

Hummingbird

Kari

I haven’t written much about my grandmother on this blog other than sharing her waffle recipe. 

Her full name was Ella Lucille, though most people knew her as Lucille or Ceil. She loved the Chicago Cubs, crossword puzzles, cooking, and spending time with her grandchildren. She was independent long before women were expected to be. She didn’t marry until her late twenties because she wasn’t ready to settle down, something that was almost unheard of then. When she finally met my grandfather, they were perfectly matched. He was gentle and hardworking. She was strong-willed and full of life. Together they built a life on a farm.

After years of believing she would never have children, my grandmother became pregnant just before her forty-second birthday. Because pregnancies at that age were considered so risky, she told her sister, I hope I live long enough to see Sara graduate from high school.

My grandmother, Ella, with her brother William in her high school senior portrait.

That sentence has always stayed with me.

At one of the happiest moments of her life, she was already worrying about time.

But time was kinder to her than she expected.

She watched my mother graduate, stood beside her on her wedding day, welcomed two grandchildren into the world, watched us grow up, marry, and begin families of our own. When my oldest daughter, Anna, was born, she became Great.

The name suited her.

By then, none of us stopped to think how extraordinary that really was. A woman who had her only child at forty-one lived long enough to meet her great-granddaughter. It felt completely normal to us because she had always seemed like she would simply keep going.

She felt immortal.

So when Mike and I were trying for our second child in 2007, we had already chosen a girl’s name before I was even pregnant.

Ella.

Many months later, I was pregnant when my grandmother’s health suddenly declined.

One afternoon I visited her wearing a lavender maternity dress. She reached up from her bed and rested her hand on my growing belly.

1993

I think it’s a girl.

I smiled.

Well, I hope you’re right because we’re naming her after you.

Oh, I love that.

We’re going to find out in September.

I can’t wait.

It was the last conversation we ever had.

A few days later, Anna and I had gone out hoping to grab Quiznos after soccer practice, only to discover it had closed. We came home disappointed and hungry when the phone rang.

It was my mom.

Grandma is probably going to pass away tonight.

I remember feeling completely helpless.

That night I cried myself to sleep, forgetting to turn the ringer back on beside my bed.

My father called around four in the morning.

I didn’t hear it.

When I woke up a few hours later, my grandmother was gone.

With the tree skirt she made for me – 1998

For years my mother carried guilt because she wasn’t at my grandmother’s bedside when she died. It was the only time she had stepped away after caring for her so faithfully.

I carried guilt, too.

Not because I wasn’t with my grandmother, but because I couldn’t be there for my mother. I lived three hours away, was pregnant, raising a seven-year-old while Mike worked long hours, and doing the best I could.

Grief has a way of convincing us we should have been somewhere else.

I’ve learned that isn’t how life works.

hummingbird perched on bird feeder
Photo by Frank Cone on Pexels.com

My brother drove down to be with my parents that day. My mom has often said how healing it was to have him there. The three of them cried, laughed, shared stories, and raised a shot of whiskey in Grandma’s honor.

While they stood together in the kitchen, my mother noticed movement outside the window.

A hummingbird.

She didn’t even have a hummingbird feeder.

The bird simply hovered outside the window as though it had come looking for them.

My mother had always loved hummingbirds, but no matter how many feeders she put up over the years, they never came.

Not until that day.

The day my grandmother died.

Mother’s Day 1997

I spent that same day wearing my grandmother’s old farmhouse apron over my pregnant belly.

It was late July, but the air felt more like autumn.

A friend brought McDonald’s for lunch, and while we sat talking, I kept saying the same thing over and over.

Oh Grandma…where did you go?

At one point we looked out the front window.

Birds.

Not one or two.

Dozens.

Our yard was absolutely covered with them.

We always had birds because of our feeders and birdbath, but never like this. They stayed all day, from morning until evening.

selective focus photo of house wren perched on white birdhouse
Photo by Tom Mann on Pexels.com

When I was little, I’d sit in her country kitchen while bacon fried in a cast-iron skillet and a bowl of cornflakes waited for me on the counter. The window above her sink would be open, the breeze drifting inside as she talked to the birds.

Whenever a house wren sang, she’d smile.

Good morning, Jenny Wren. Are you singing to me today? What a pretty voice you have.

She made ordinary mornings feel magical.

During one of our phone calls that week, my mother told me about the hummingbird.

I told her about the birds covering our lawn.

We had each been visited.

ELLA ART PIC
Our Ella in 2017

When September arrived and the ultrasound technician smiled and said, It’s a girl, I wasn’t surprised.

Grandma had already told us.

Four months later, when Ella was born, I felt as though my grandmother was somehow there too, whispering one last piece of wisdom before sending her into the world.

Our Ella has always seemed like an old soul.

She lives up to her name.

When she was a toddler, I once heard her talking in her bedroom. Assuming she was speaking to her dolls, I asked who she was talking to.

Grandma Ella and Grandpa Albert.

I had never told her my grandfather’s name.

My grandmother was the only grandparent I truly knew growing up.

Sometimes I wonder if that’s why she lived to be 102.

Maybe she stayed long enough to love all of us for the grandparents we never had.

She left an enormous space behind.

My mother now has hummingbirds at her feeders almost every day. She keeps sugar water in the refrigerator so she’ll always have enough for them.

And every morning, when I hear birdsong outside my own window, I think about where I came from.

A little white farmhouse.

A cast-iron skillet.

A bowl of cornflakes.

An open kitchen window.

My grandmother talking to Jenny Wren while she made breakfast.

Nanny, why does Jenny Wren always sound so happy?

Because she’s free, sweetheart.

Because she’s free.

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35 thoughts on “Hummingbird”

  4. I love this! My favorite so far. I can feel the love in your writing. Makes me think of my Grandma.

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  5. ❤️ I love this. I LOVE this.

    Your Grandmother is beautiful. Your family is beautiful.

    I completely forgot about Quizno’s. We had one near us when we were young newlyweds and too poor to eat out. We tried it once. So good.

    Hummingbirds are my favorite. ❤️ And now, on the rare occasion I see one, I’ll think of your family.

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    1. 1- I still miss Quizno’s. The Chicken Bacon Ranch is one of the best subs I’ve ever had.
      2- I truly love you and your comments. Your comments make my day.
      3- I also love that you will think of my family when you see hummingbirds. :)

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  6. This is the only thing that’s ever made me want to get a tattoo. Hope you will be sharing photos here so we can all see them.

    I think you know my daughter’s name is Grace. And she was named for both of my grandmas. Her twin brother’s name? William James. ?

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    1. We will. We were going to do it this week but we are going to Florida at the end of the month and it isn’t advised to get a tattoo before going in the sun. So April it is which is cool because that is my birthday month. :)

      OMG Rita! We are so connected! That gave me chills.

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  7. Loved this! My little Granny was blind but she was so funny! When my brother and I were small, we would crawl under the formica kitchen table when she was eating and tickle her legs. She would always stomp her foot and say “OH! theres a bug on me”. Every. single. time. Hahahahaha! We thought it was hilarious and we really thought she didn’t know it was us! She passed on a long time ago…. it’s funny that I still remember so many things from my childhood but nothing from last week. Blessings to you and your family.

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    1. THAT is so funny! When Anna was little, she would tap my mom on her shoulder when we were in the car. My mom would say, “there’s that bird again!”. She did that all throughout her childhood. I love those stories and thank you so much for sharing yours. :)

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  8. Grandmas are so special. When you have good ones, it’s amazing to look back and see that extra layer of love they’ve given throughout our lives, as part of our personal histories. I lost a grandparent every 18 months from 2013 to 2016 and it was so hard. I’m still not sure I’m done grieving.

    I believe that we are given gifts of their continued presence in our lives in things like hummingbirds. Mine show up in dreams quite often, and I wake up knowing that I was with them again. It’s a peaceful feeling, knowing that their love is still with us.

    Beautiful post. xoxo

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    1. I believe you’re not done grieving either. I don’t think we ever stop.
      I believe that too. I have had dreams where I could feel her so strongly that I wanted to go back to sleep to be with her. I think they never really leave us.
      Love you, my friend.

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  9. Those are wonderful family memories Kari. You shouldn’t beat yourself up over what you couldn’t do perfectly though. You did what you could. Your Grandma looks like a character! Ha! Meant in the nicest way. I’m so glad you got your girl named after her. My mom had me when she was 41, so I can relate to a late baby situation. It’s a sweet story, and I love the reference to the hummingbirds.

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    1. She WAS a character! Oh Florence, I miss her so.
      Wow, I love that. God Bless women who have late in life babies. :)

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  10. So so so precious. So full of love. I don’t even know her, but from this, I know she was an extraordinary lady. There’s nothing quite like grandparents.

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  13. A beautifully written story about your family and your grandmother; a wonderful tribute. Thank you for sharing on Party in Your PJ’s.

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  14. I can feel the adoration in your composition. Makes me think about my Grandma. You know, my little Granny was visually impaired however she was so clever! At the point when my sibling and I were little, we would creep under the Formica kitchen table when she was eating and stimulate her legs. Coincidentally, Your Grandmother is delightful.

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  17. 102?! WOW! That is fabulous. Most of my grandparents were alive well into their 90’s and all of them got to see my three boys; something I am always so thankful for!

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