Before she passed away in April, 2010, my grandmother had lived for 92 years and seen the passing of her husband, her oldest son (my father), and her only daughter. She had raised four kids, the bulk of which was done as a single parent. She worked as a seamstress to support herself and her family until she was physically unable. And to her, physically unable meant
impossible, not
uncomfortable.
To me, she was the prototypical grandmother; an expert at everything important to a little boy. Examples include making pies, making jello and whipped cream desserts, making other pies, and making life seem safe and warm. We were very close when I was younger, as first grandsons and grandmothers tend to be. But until I heard my uncles eulogize her at her funeral, the reality of who she was had somehow taken a backseat to the simplistic view of her as a symbol of love and warmth. The reality is that she was an exceptional person before she was ever my grandmother.
Opal Virginia Pilmer was loved dearly by her family and her friends. She lived a beautiful and unselfish life. Rhoda and I can only hope that Rye Opal will carry some of her great-grandmother's spirit.
 |
| Opal Pilmer (before she was a grandmother; with my grandfather, Gordon) |
|
 |
| Opal Virginia Pilmer, the grandmother |
 |
| Opal, the namesake |
