Dorothy June
Zimmerman
(June 07, 1928 --
December 29, 2011)
Dorothy June
Zimmerman was the 7th of 8 children---(... 4 boys & 4
girls...). Yesterday---(June 7th,
2012)---was the anniversary of her birthday....
To me, the
stereotypical grandmother is the grandmother that embodies laughter &
smiles. This is how I remember my
father's mother (... Grandma Z...).
Ahhh, Grandma
Z. When I was a kid, she kept the
best-tasting grape juice in her fridge.
There will never be corn chowder that can top hers, and -- for some
mysterious reason -- no one can make pickled eggs better than hers.
Like da zimdog, she
was a human of simple taste & natural intelligence. When I asked my dad
what level of education she completed, he told me she had no official education
beyond the 8th grade. She was
raised on a farm in Carsonville, PA, and couldn't find transportation to
Halifax (... the nearest town with a high school...).
So, instead of learning from the structure curriculum of a high school, she
learned about existence from Nature. The family farm included many animals that
she would've known on a personal basis (... in addition to being familiar with the apple orchard
& the plot of Christmas trees...).
Last June 7th
(... on her 83rd birthday...), I spoke with Grandma Z. on the phone. That conversation came just two weeks after
my grandfather died. At the time, she was also recovering from
cancer treatment (... not to mention, the trauma of the cancer itself...).
As I paced around
my backyard -- phone in hand (... asking her about her birthday dinner, and
waiting for the right time to ask her about the various other things that might
be on her mind...) -- I couldn't mistake hearing the bright side of life resonating in her responses. Despite being beat
down by the recent threat of her own death---(... & the very-real death of
her soul mate...)---she still put forth the effort of speaking with positive
consideration....
Yep. That was Grandma Z. She was a woman of simple love. She loved my grandfather; she loved my
father; she loved my uncles & aunt. She loved spouses; she loved my brother, my
cousins, & me (... which isn't even to mention all the great-grandchildren
she knew and loved...).
In other words, she
loved the Zimmermans (... even those that did something unkind...). When an aunt-in-law would divorce from the family, Grandma Z. would cover that aunt-in-law's face in family
photos (... with a Mr. Yuk sticker...). Even her most vindictive actions were expressed with the humor
of love (... which only made her easier to love...).
In doing so,
Grandma Z. was living proof that people can establish mutual respect. The Golden Rule was neither mantra nor catch
phrase to her....
(The Golden Rule
was a life lived well....)
When she met
Russell Lloyd Zimmerman at a party one evening, they connected over the
coincidence of sharing the Zimmerman surname.
The way my mom puts it, my grandparents then researched to
make sure there would be no mutant Zimmermans. When it was decided
that genetic abnormalities would not be an issue, the Zimmerman-Zimmerman union
proceeded from there....
. . . .
Yesterday---(...
conversing with my father...)---I learned all sorts of things about Grandma Z.
that I never knew while she was alive (... i.e. her admiration for the poetry
of Robert Frost, her musical ability on piano, etc...).
Immediately, I had no trouble connecting with
these previously unknown aspects of her reality. I could easily
imagine her helping my dad with his homework... (... a cosmic connection I
share as a tutor...). Likewise, my dad spoke of her wise ways with such
profound remembrance that it wasn't difficult for me to remember her anew in similar ways.
Regardless
of any neurosis or cynicism I develop in this life, I can easily say -- without hesitation or regret -- that I will always remember Grandma Z. as an angel....
. . . .
In figuring out how
to end this eulogy, I reached for the book she & Pop sent me for Christmas
one year. It's an awesome hardcover copy
of The Wizard of Oz (... with gilded pages, an attached ribbon bookmark,
& excellent glossy color illustrations...).
All she wrote
facing the title page was:
To Cory
From Grandma
and
Grandpa
Zimmerman
For her, what
counted was the thought of giving a special gift. (Did I mention she
was humble...?) For example, I
don't ever remember her asking me if I wanted a quilt. Instead, she just made me one & gave it to me
(... with simple, unconditional love...).
(I sleep under that quilt every night....)
I suppose that's
the difference between the psyches of our respective generations. Whereas my generation just knows to expect gifts at certain times of the year, her generation was a kindhearted generation that asked
for very little in return. As a result, Grandma Z. sought to encounter life's rewards by giving
gifts....
(... Christmas presents...,)
(... laughter...,)
(... love...,)
(... etc....)
Because of her
selfless giving, I never quite knew what to get her in return. That's why I usually just gave her my love.
So---(now)---the last gift
I will give her is a simple one (... by modern standards...). I will hope (... for her sake...) that her death released the peaceful spirit of her
heart... (... back to the
stars... (... from which she came...)).
She was truly a cosmic woman, and I will miss her kind spirit for the rest of my
life (... until that point in time when our spirits are reunited...).
I love you, Grandma Z...!
