See You Again
Growing up, when I would go on walks with my father, he always made sure to pick up pennies..among other things. I always wondered what he would come home with..nails..bolts..one time a blow dryer. Not even kidding. I digress. Anyone who had a childhood will know that picking up pennies is for good luck. There is some controversy though if you should only pick them up with the heads up and if you so happen to come across one with tails up, the proper thing would be to turn it over and leave it for someone to pick up for good luck. I used to do this, until graduate school, now I willingly take any change I find or see for that matter. Priorities.
I remember my father telling me the stories of the pennies from heaven. One that his mother passed along to her kids...all 11 of them. Yes, my grandma was a good, practicing Catholic. I forgot this story from time to time, but since 2012, I have always thought about this story and took it as a sign that my grandmother was looking out for me. I lost both sets of grandparents. My mom's dad passed before I was even born from cancer. My mom's mom passed my freshman year of high school. I still have fond memories of staying at her house to get up early the next morning to go to garage sales, then cinnamon rolls at Woolworth's or the neighbors. I also remember how her backyard was this great adventure-with a corner dedicated to the Virgin Mary. Yep, another Catholic grandma. My dad's dad passed when I was a junior in high school. It is really the first time I physically saw my father cry. I knew he cried about other things, he told me, but this is the first time I saw him cry. My grandma O'Donnell passed in 2009. The matriarch of the family gone. The woman who centered all my crazy family was gone. Her spunky stubbornness and wicked sense of humor-gone. I loved how she told each child that she loved them the most and there would be little fights over who was the favorite.
I won't go into many details, but when she was passed she had her coat partly on. Weeks before that, she had been talking about my grandpa and going with him somewhere. It is our belief that he came to get her. She wasn't driving and no appointments that day. He told her it's time to go. I truly believe that. I have to. I want to. Somehow that minimally dulls the pain I feel about missing her so much. I envy those who still have their grandparents. Mine were pretty great and I cherished my time with them. I probably should have cherished it more. But, hindsight is a real bitch.
At then end of 2012, I was ending a campaign for a candidate I really didn't believe in the way I did when I started the campaign. A man that was a great mentor and a great boss was being termed out and whatever this dating/relationship thing I had going was ending. Ending by my choice. Something had to give. December of 2012, the candidate that I worked for didn't keep his word on his part of a campaign agreement and the practices of that campaign were nothing to be proud of. I was realizing that I didn't want a future in this direction. I felt lied to, manipulated and betrayed and I hated that a family I grew to love in an administration was disbanding. I was torn apart. I confided in a small circle of friends and my parents. I remember my father telling me "this must be so painful for you." It was. I couldn't label it, but that was the perfect word. Painful. Then, one day my father called me. "It's going to be okay, because I found a penny from heaven by the water fountain at the YMCA." He was right. It may not have turned out how I pictured it, but I knew my grandmother was comforting me.
When I was searching for a full time job and going through the struggle that most of America is going through...having a degree-a Master's Degree nonetheless-and unemployed essentially, I found pennies every where-at the gym, by my car, on my runs and throughout town-in any town I was visiting. I knew that they were pennies from heaven. I had a sense of peace that everything would work out yet again, that if I just trusted something more than myself it would work out.
Anyone who has spent time with me knows I will always stop and pick pennies up. I stopped and picked one up on the course in the LA Marathon. I loved both of my grandmothers. I was robbed that my grandma Naylor left our family so early. I remember going to her funeral and there was only standing room. I was lucky enough to have my grandma O'Donnell another 15+ years. My father can barely talk about her at times. I remember when she passed and we could write a note and put it in her grave. I wrote about many things-how I loved her, how I will miss her. But, what I remember most..is I thanked her for giving me my dad. (Shit, I am crying just thinking of this...). I know my father and the rest of my family will have a shot of blue wine for her-holidays, her birthday and perhaps the anniversary of her death.
That article was a great surprise. I am an honored to be known for this little tradition of "picking pennies up all over town." My dad copied it and sent it to his brothers and sisters. I hope upon reading this, if a loved one is gone and you find a penny, you will believe that someone is watching over you and letting you know they are looking after you-or just saying hi.
We had family pictures done a bit before my grandmother died. Here it is.
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Don't be jealous, our family is really, really, ridiculously good-looking.
Hug your grandparents. Hold their memory close. Start picking up pennies, regardless of what side is facing you.
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