I hope Gam liked me

This morning, Brian's grandmother "Gam" passed away. I think she was almost 87, but am happy to report that up until the end, her mind was sharp, and she was surrounded by a family of about 40. Yup, she was a Matriarch with a capital M. Although her mind was sharp, her body started failing her and got progressively worse since Christmas. And now, Gam is no longer with us.

It's weird to think of Brian's family without her. They're incredibly tight knit, in large part because of this woman. She raised five kids -- most who have a clan of their own -- on very strong family ideals. Brian's family has been really welcoming to me because of how she raised them, no doubt. They may be loud, and holiday gatherings tend to feel chaotic -- dozens of strong-willed people in the same house will bear that trait -- but they're all nice. They tease one another and poke fun at one another, but they still all treat each other well, and there isn't a bad soul among 'em. No, they're not all perfect, but I couldn't ask for a more solid family to be welcomed into.

I watch how this family talks to and acts around the little kids -- Lord knows there are at least six under age five right now -- and it's amazing. They're cool and know how to play with 'em, yet all the kids know what they're supposed to do. Doesn't mean they don't push the limits, but they're never bratty. I don't know what they're secret is, but I have a lot of it stems from Gam.

Each time Brian and I visited Memphis, we would always make a point to see her at least once. I observed the standards she sets among her grandchildren and was amazed at the following -- the joy in pleasing Gam and doing the right thing. One of Gam's sister's grandchildren moved to Chicago, for example, and Brian and his brother invited her out to do something. Gam got wind of this and, during our Christmas visit, turned to Patrick and said, "Now, Patrick, I heard how you invited Courtney out, and I have to commend you. That was a very nice thing of you to do. She's new to the city, and it's important to have family around."

She did not offer this commendation in a frilly, too-sweet way. Oh no. If she weren't already telling him he was doing the right thing, she would be giving orders. And you'd follow them.

Gam raised her entire family in the strongest of Catholic senses, and that was evident to the day she died. You can tell it worked because many of her children's spouses who weren't already Catholic converted without pressure. It says a lot. It's not like they're preachy; they just do good things.

When Brian came home after finding out about her passing at work, one of the first things I said to him after condolences and such was, "I hope Gam liked me." I just wouldn't feel right if she didn't. I got the sense she did because she offered that I call her Gam -- not reserved for just anyone -- but I still wanted, or maybe needed, the reassurance she knew her son was with a good person. Brian said he knows she did; whenever she'd visit, after he said hello, she asked about me first. I'll take that as a compliment. :)  

The first time I visited Memphis was for an Easter holiday, and as I said goodbye to her -- the last time I'd see her during that particular trip -- I addressed her as Brian had instructed all weekend: Ms. Hill. When I said this -- we were in the driveway of his aunt's house helping her into her car -- she stopped and stared at me; I panicked, searching for a reason to get such a look. Did I call her by the wrong grandmother's name? Did she think I called her something inappropriate?

"My name" "is Gam. Call me Gam." 

And then I knew I was OK. Sigh of relief all around.

That was awhile ago, and I see her so little, of course I wanted the reassurance now, to know Brian was at ease about whether or not she approved. So far so good. I fully count on her looking down and watching over us (hopefully not realizing from heaven her grandson and I are living together before marriage).

I'm glad I knew you, Gam. Thanks for raising such a good family.