Memories of the Jitterbug

I don’t remember much about the morning I found out Granddad had died, except the warm aroma of pumpkin pie and tears tasting like sweat, bitter and boiling. I was just settling into seven. It was November 24, 2005, Thanksgiving Day. Ironic, I know. I’d seen Granddad the night before, just released from the hospital; he was supposed to come over with Nan, and eat turkey and fried corn and homemade dressing. He was not supposed to die. But he did.

My dad sat us down in the living room and told us, and then I ran. Down the stairs, through the door, onto my bed, sobbing. The next thing I remember, our family arrived and I came out. We weren’t depressed, though. I remember chuckles and the sharing of memories and a solemn acceptance. And then there was Nan. She wasn’t as loud as usual, didn’t laugh as much, didn’t yell as much. She was simply there, remembering. That night, as we were clearing the dishes, the dancing began. We remembered how Nan and Granddad would jitterbug, and we were happy, for a moment or two, as the blaring of trumpets and saxophones and laughter filled the house.

For her birthday that year, we got Nan an off-kilter sheltie dubbed Joseph Edward Baird–Jeb for short. He was a strange dog, but Nan liked him–after awhile–and he became a good companion. She still wasn’t the same, though. 56 years of marriage is a lot to get past. Her 80th birthday came and went. Remembering didn’t hurt so bad. But I never thought anything good would come of that. There was too much bad, too much lost. Granddad was irreplaceable.

Suddenly in 2010, Nan got a call from one Mr. Earl “Cobb,” asking her to go on a date. He’d talked to one of her sisters at a wedding and gotten her number. Long story short, it worked out, and they’re still together to this day. She’s 85. The two of them were high school sweethearts at Handley High in little Roanoke, Alabama. Even though he was married once, Mr. Cobb says he’s loved her ever since. He even moved from Montgomery to an apartment complex down the street from her just so he wouldn’t have to make the two hour drive back and forth every day. The best part is, on his lease it asked him why he was leaving the apartment, and he wrote “for love”. It’s safe to say we like Mr. Cobb. Supposedly he’s proposed twice, but Nan said no because she “doesn’t want to deal with the paperwork.” I think it’s because she knows she’ll never love anyone how she loved Granddad. But he makes her happy, and that’s all that matters.

I don’t believe everything happens for a reason, because sometimes really crappy things happen to really good people. But I believe eventually, if you look hard enough, good can always come from bad. I have to believe this.