Legacy of a Lady

By Jerry Mack Grubbs

Today is August 2nd and I will quietly reflect and mark the thirty-fourth anniversary of the passing of someone very special to me. She wasn’t my peer. She wasn’t even related to me. But she had a significant impact on my life when I was a skinny teenage boy. I wasn’t just skinny physically; I was skinny emotionally if you know what I mean. In other words, I still had a lot to learn about life although I thought I was all grown up. Thank goodness this lady helped me realize that I still had miles to go on the road of life marked wisdom.

She was the first of two women in my life who would be instrumental in encouraging me in my pastime of writing. This lady became the driving force behind my desire to convey my thoughts and experiences in print. In way of explanation, in August of 1993 I had three separate yet identical dreams relating to her that inspired me to begin writing about the influence this lady had on my life. I felt driven by some indescribable force to allow others to get to know her through my writings. It was as though if I didn’t do it, no one else would. And her influence on this world would be buried as sure as if it had died along with her physical body. I titled those first short stories about my experiences with her a “Legacy of a Lady” and bound them in a folder. There were forty short stories chronicling my memories of life with her.

Forces at work inside of me suggested that there was a deeper meaning behind my dreams than just writing about my life with her. I decided to contact Karen and seek permission to have her parent’s temple work done. I was unsuccessful in locating her. I was unaware that Karen had divorced her first husband and remarried. One Sunday evening Karen called my home and said, “I understand you are looking for me.” I had not heard Karen’s voice or spoken to her since I visited her in the hospital twenty-two years earlier. In fact, that occasion in the hospital was the last time I would ever see her mother alive. Karen declined my request for permission to have her parent’s temple work performed.

Seven years passed with no contact with Karen. I was in her hometown on business for one day. It was Friday, June 5th, 2000. I tried repeatedly to contact Karen by phone but it rang busy each time. I thought that either she or her husband must be on the internet or the phone was off the hook. I stopped at a local convenience store and purchased a city map that would provide directions to their home. I knocked on the door and Karen answered. Because of our previous relationship and out of respect for my wife and Karen’s husband, I asked if she and I could visit out in her front yard instead of entering her home. We stood apart, no handshakes, no embraces, just talking and catching up on our lives. The last time I saw her prior to this occasion was at her mother’s funeral in 1973. After a few minutes I slipped back into my rental car and headed for the airport to continue the next leg of my business trip.

During that importune visit in her front yard, I told Karen about my writings I called Legacy of a Lady and asked her if she would like a copy. She said yes and I agreed to send it when I returned home form my trip. Karen seemed anxious for her adult children, Chris and Gay, to be able to read the stories and become better acquainted with their grandmother who had passed away before they were old enough to remember her.

Previously, I have told only one person all the specific details about the rest of this story. This is where a dark shadow began to fall over my brief reunion with Karen that took place in her front yard. Many of you have questioned the sanity of my destroying some of my early writings. Maybe you will better understand my actions as I share with you the events that took place.

I did send Karen a copy of Legacy of a Lady. It wasn’t the complete set of my writings but a selection that I thought would be most appropriate for her children to gain a greater appreciation of their grandmother. During the next two months I e-mailed Karen a few times and sent her a copy of an article I wrote about our brief reunion in her front yard. I wish I had retained a copy of that article but after I read it to my family and sent Karen a copy I purged it from my computer. What followed was a heart blistering e-mail from Karen’s husband accusing me of trying to stir up old feelings in Karen of a bygone era. He threatened to bring criminal stalking charges against me if I ever contacted her again. Danny proclaimed that Karen lived in constant fear that I would show up unannounced in her life again. He said that my stories were lies and figments of a sick imagination.

I was devastated that I had been the impetus for such frustration and anger. A part of me wanted to strike back, deny his accusations and attempt to justify my own behavior. But after reading Danny’s e-mail once more, I closed the door to my office, knelt by my desk and sought guidance before I made a response to his accusations. Returning to my computer, I apologized to Danny for any hurt, heartache or sorrow that I had caused him and his wife. I told him that I would never contact either of them again as long as I lived and that I would destroy the writings about his mother-in-law. That way he would be in control of what happened to the only copy left of what he labeled the writings of a sick imagination. I reread my written e-mail to him, made sure that I could live up to my stated commitments, sought confirmation of the spirit that it was the right thing to do and pressed the send button on my computer.

On August 2, 2000, the twenty-seventh anniversary of her death, as I previously promised I would do; I went back to my computer and deleted each of the articles written about this lady. It had been seven years since I had those three dreams and commenced to feverishly write about this special lady in my life. I then took the original bound copy of Legacy of a Lady which comprised a total of forty short stories to Lake Powell with me. As I flew over the barren desert of southern Utah on my way to the lake, I reread each of the stories I had written about the influence this lady had on my life. Once I finished reading them for what would be the last time, I removed the pages from the binder, opened the window of my plane and tossed them to the wind. I had completed what I told Danny that I would do. The only thing left was for me to never contact him or his wife again. I knew that I could do that also; not out of hurt or anger, but out of respect for his wishes.

I was chastised by family and friends for my actions. I was even told that I was too soft, that I should get him told instead of playing into the hands of a jealous husband and doing exactly what he wanted me to do. My answer to those comments was, “So what.” In a tug-of-war, if one party refuses to pick up the rope and pull, there is no war. I decided to not pick up my end of the rope. I owed no one an explanation. I owed Karen’s husband Danny an apology for the uncomfortable feelings welling up inside of him that I had been a party to. I felt sadness for him and for Karen. I felt sadness for me that what was so special to me, reflections of my relationship with her mom, was twisted into something ugly and misshapen.

I was surprised by Karen’s husband’s reaction since there was nothing in my comments during the front yard visit with Karen and nothing in my writings about her mom that focused on memories and experiences of mine and Karen’s dating years. But he was not able to see into my heart and no amount of explanation to an angry or frustrated man would convince him otherwise; therefore, I didn’t try. It was best to place all the power back into his hands. He was the one holding the rope and challenging me to a tug-of-war. I can only guess he got my email stating my apology and decisions. I never heard from him again after his heart blistering e-mail. See, the e-mail he sent was prior to talking e-mails so his words at least didn’t burn my ears.

But all his threats and accusations didn’t dampen my love and appreciation for his mother-in-law whom he never knew. She passed away twenty-one years before he and Karen married. It has now been seven years since that day I flew to Lake Powell, a favorite destination for me, and tossed my written reflections of the Legacy of a Lady out the window of the plane. As I said previously, only the written words were tossed to the wind. My memories of her are still alive in me. I have now begun to rewrite about some of those memories but out of respect for sensitive hearts, I have left off the name of this lady who had such an impact in my life. Although she doesn’t get her name in the bright lights of recognition, her spirit shines as bright on my life now as it did when she lovingly and tenderly guided me through some of the challenges of teenage life.

Maybe family members and friends puzzled by my behavior of destroying my writings will have a better understanding of why I tossed my written words to the wind. If I haven’t already bored you beyond consciousness, you can read the first of my rewritten reminisings of this Legacy of a Lady. The article is titled “The Two Piece.” The original short story was called “The Swimsuit.” This story will not be new to my children. They have heard me speak many times of my experiences with this lady who shared my own mother’s first name. She treated me and loved me like a son. Her attention to my shortcomings and her motives for encouraging me to make good choices in life may have been based on fear. Fear that I might marry her daughter one day. The forbidden wigi board said that we would marry. The yearbook singled us out as the most likely couple to marry after high school but dreams sent us in different directions. Karen’s mother probably breathed a huge sigh of relief. You can access the article “The Two Piece” by going to www.jerrygrubbs.com or just scroll down to the next article on this website.

It was fourteen years ago this month that I first wrote this article. All the short stories in Legacy of a Lady will not be reconstructed. As I gaze out the window of my life and reflect upon the people who influenced me for good, I will always remember this special lady who gave me a part of her by giving me her time, sharing her insights and loving me in spite of my shortcomings. This world could benefit from more people like her. Although she has been gone thirty-four years and I haven’t heard her voice other than in my dreams for all this time, I still miss her. And I will continue to miss you EGY until we meet again.