I made soup last night for myself. I cooked down the weird looking chicken parts to make broth, cleaned out my fridge with every veggie I could find and picked some herbs out of my garden, the rosemary oddly reminding me of home, and shoved it all in a pot. There is something serenely beautiful and empowering being able to take care of oneself. In reality though, it's not quite black and white: I am learning to take care of myself, sure- but I wouldn't have the courage to do it- to make soup, if it weren't for the love that was poured out to me this week, by so many family and friends. I am forever grateful for the calls and the email check-ups and the hot agua de panella con limon that was brought over by a neighbor, the washmydishes, sweet, dinner making friends, and the friends who I know are just there: sending their love in the form of energy from afar. I was reminded of this quote and I think in all times, but especially in times of grief or tumult we must be inspired to love the hardest and live and breathe love more intentionally than ever.
“In the tumult of tragedy, be love, do love, send love, breathe love … Everywhere, to Everyone … Only L O V E.” — Jenn Ryan
My Grandma Ruth knew how to do this, I think. She had a way of living and loving life, like really living life every day with elegance and intention. My Grandma was so strong- from fighting for education and integration in the Native American communities in New Mexico, to fighting until the last moment the cancer, to living life how she wanted to live it, and traveling all over the world, she will always inspire me to be who I want to be and be a force in the world for good.
My Grandma Ruth always accepted me as I was- and welcomed me as a part of the family without judgement and with a huge smile, matter of fact, like "of course you're a part of us, Corie, now come and get some food in the kitchen with me". I'll never forget the first time I really reconnected with her in person- she invited me out to her wedding and batmitsva in Albuquerque, she was 72 years old and getting married, right! I sang "Songbird" for them, and went hiking with my new old family in the mountains and she was there, smiling and living her life to the fullest, setting an example (like every master teacher), by doing. Since then, I had the honor of keeping in touch with her: she came to Chicago to visit me, we went to see "Billy Elliot" and to eat Indian, we exchanged emails and hugs, and she wanted to come to Colombia to visit- that was before her cancer relapsed. The last time I saw her in New Mexico, she was still as strong as ever mentally- I remember she stubbornly said in the bathroom after her birthday dinner out "Corie, I don't want to die", and she lived with intention and love and grace up until her last breath. And she did it her way, with all the life she had. She waited to go until all her children and her husband were there.
I will continue to be challenged and inspired by the woman and grandmother that Ruth was, and she will continue to live on through our actions of love: the students I teach, and the seeds that I cultivate and the truth that I tell. While sadness and loss is present, I have to take a moment to give thanks that I was and we were able to be a Granddaughter to a Grandmother who loved each other.
