A True Love Story (Part 2 of 2)

Buck was a big man. He had served in the Navy. He raised beagles. He loved to hunt. He drove a truck, wore flannel shirts, blue jeans and boots. When he left Grandmama, he walked away from his life.

Buck was gone. Gloria called him "Curtis," his given name. He moved from the old farmhouse he had been born in to Gloria's small lake house decorated in pink marble and white carpet. He traded in his flannels for pastel Izod cardigans. His beagles were replaced with teacup poodles. He had more contact with Gloria's only child than with his own 6 children. They married within 3 months.

Most of my memories of my Grandmama over the next few years were of her weeping as the two of us drove to and from church. She never spoke ill of my Granddaddy. She moved on, although it was obvious she was deeply wounded. She went back to college and was in the Honor Society until her hearing loss effected her ability to understand the lectures.

Curtis and Gloria were married for about 12 years (I think) before she died of cancer. My mother and her siblings had been rebuilding a relationship with him through those years. After Gloria's death, it was decided he needed to move back closer to his family. He moved into a duplex owned by one of his daughters and gradually started attending family functions that included my Grandmama.

Then, he was diagnosed with cancer. By the time the diagnosis was made, his illness was advanced. It was determined that he was terminal and had a very brief life expectancy. As the family discussed where he should live, my Grandmama stepped forward and offered for him to move back in with her. "I'll take care of him," she said resolutely. She had meant her part of the vows, even though he betrayed his.

He did not go to live with Grandmama. It was decided that he would spend his final days with my parents instead. Grandmama lived next door and would check on him and bring him supper. It was never intended to be romantic. He died a few weeks later.

I should stop writing and just let this story speak for itself. But, I want to tell you a couple of things. Through the darkness and pain, God brought about beauty. I started attending church regularly and subsequently made a personal decision for Christ. My Grandmama lived out the ultimate example of grace and forgiveness. She did not love him based on anything he did for her. She loved him in spite of it...maybe not with a romatic love in those last years...but in a committed, unconditional way.

This is the heritage my sweet Grandmama has left for my family.