Tennessee Waltz
I’ve been in a major funk since Valentine’s Day. And I’ve been trying to bring myself to write about it. But I just haven’t been able to. Mostly because I just didn’t know how to express what I have been feeling. I’m not sure that I know now, but, if you’re reading this, obviously I have managed to at least wrestle with it.
You all know how much I love the song “Tennessee Waltz.” Besides just liking the tune, it’s sort of a special song in my family. When I was a kid, it was not uncommon for Granny to be sitting on the porch or working in the kitchen and quietly humming the song. Grandaddy would often join her, only he would whistle (and with harmony). My grandparents were the most loving couple I have ever seen in my life. Even into their old age. And Tennessee Waltz was their song.
I think that song came along in the 1950’s, so they would have been in their 30’s at time. So rather than being the song they fell in love to, maybe it was the one that strengthened things and held them together in those years when a lot of people are feeling the most strain in their marriages. Maybe when the stress of mortgages, young kids, and hard work left them without much time to get busy between the sheets, they could at least turn the lights down and turn up the radio and enjoy each other by taking a few twirls around the livingroom.
After moving in with my grandparents, I was then attending a new school, and being pretty shy anyway, I used the excuse of not knowing how to dance to avoid asking a girl to a homecoming dance. So, Granny took it upon herslef to teach me to slow dance. She didn’t teach me a proper waltz. It was like 1990. But she did play “Tennessee Waltz” and taught me to sway with the music and where to put my hands. Now, by this time in my life, I had already put my hands on (and in) a lot of places on various girls, but that was different . That wasn’t about being socially adept.
So, on Valentine’s Day, I thought it might make Granny feel good if I put “Tennessee Waltz” on the stereo and asked her to dance with me. It was my hope that it would give her some good memories of Granddaddy, especially since I resemble young pictures of him (and when she is not having good days, she sometimes confuses me with him.) It was right after dinner, so I helped her out of the kitchen chair and held her against me. We danced for a little bit and then she just let all her weight fall against me. Not that that was a problem. She doesn’t weigh a thing. It was just that it felt like her body gave out. I figured it was too tiring for her so I helped her sit down again, then I went to turn the music off.
When I came back in the room I made a joke about wearing her out and she just sat there with her head down, not looking at me. I got worried that maybe I had pushed her too much, but she said she was okay when I asked. So, I just let her rest while I cleared up the dishes and started cleaning up. But there was something weird in the air. You know how you can just tell something’s not right. I kept an eye on her and she seemed okay physically, but something was in the air.
After I finished the dishes, she was still sitting there at the table, so I sat down with her. Neither one of us said anything for the longest time. Finally she looked at me with the saddest eyes. It looked like she could cry at any moment. That’s when she said, “I am so sorry for all the bother I cause you.” If I hadn’t been sitting, it would have knocked me on my ass. She said that because of her I haven’t be able to do the things a young man should be like getting married and starting a family of my own. “You’re losing so much because of me.”
I tried to ease her mind and explain to her that she’s wrong. But she just wouldn’t hear it. I guess she knows that on some level she really isn’t wrong. You see, I love my Granny more than anything and there is nothing that I wouldn’t do for her, but, I’m embarressed to say, that sometimes I do wonder what it would be like if things were different. I’m at a point in my life where I have finally found myself, starting to feel like I know who I am, and I wonder that when the time comes that Granny no longer needs me, it’ll be too late. Too late for what? I don’t know. Just too late.
I hate myself for even thinking about the days post-Granny. I feel like such a shithead. A selfish and ungrateful shithead. I’ve said it before, and I will say it until I die, that if it were not for Granny, I very likely would not be walking the earth today. I owe everything to her. And I don’t take care of her just because I owe her. I take care of her because I love her.
Does she sense something in me that makes her worry? Is it just her intuition? Maybe it was just dancing to a sad song got her emotions going. Either way, neither of us has been in the right frame of mind since that night. I know Granny still loves me, but ever since then she seems a little bit detached. Almost like she’s trying to wean me from her.
“Tennessee Waltz” is still one of my favorite songs, but I don’t know if I can manage to listen to it for a while. At least not until I can detach the memory of this past Valentine’s Day from it. It will be especially hard considering the last few lyrics:
I remember the night
And the Tennessee Waltz
Now I know just how much I have lost
Yes, I lost my little darling
The night they were playing
The beautiful Tennessee Waltz
I’ll always wonder if that’s the night I emotionally lost my little darling…my Granny.
March 1st, 2006 at 1:37 am
Beautiful, touching entry. You and your grandmother continue to be in my thoughts.
March 1st, 2006 at 8:40 am
That breaks my heart. I lost my Gran a little over eight years ago after caring for her, and we had similar conversations. I miss her. I can tell you this – it’s never too late. You’ll be alright.
March 1st, 2006 at 9:23 am
Unconditional love is hard to receive, because it forces us to realize that someone thinks we’re worth it. It doesn’t sound to me like you’ve lost your little darling, only that she is having trouble receiving all the love you have for her.
The elderly don’t fear death the way we do. Imagining a future without Granny makes you feel guilty, but she probably worries that you *aren’t* planning a future without her. Weaning is tough. But it is still easier than suddenly having to go cold turkey.
This was an amazing post. Big hug to you both.
March 1st, 2006 at 9:56 am
Flip the script. Look at this from Granny’s point of view. After having had a long and lasting soulmate to “Tennesse Waltz” with, she just wants the same for you.You will always be young in her eyes.She wants to feel that when she’s no longer there,someone will be there for you the way Grandpa was for her.
March 1st, 2006 at 12:48 pm
That was so elegantly and intimately written it feels intrusive to comment. Honesty is risky, clumsy and painful and maybe the guilt you (both) feel is only the natural, if bitter-sweet, response to what is unsayable out of circumstances, sensitivity and kindness. Be just and kind to yourself too OK? You’ve earned it.
March 1st, 2006 at 5:41 pm
Tony, what a wonderful post. I miss my grandmother. Unfortunately, before she passed away, she was suffering from Alzheimer’s, so she didn’t really know who I was or what my life is like. Man she was tough, I remember her cussing out my mom and one of her sisters in Italian when I was a wee pup.
She had a hard life married to a West Virginia coal miner, but she also had a great soft side that every once in a while would be exposed to us. Always cherish the time you have with your granny, thru good and bad. Time is fleeting.
Tonka
March 1st, 2006 at 6:27 pm
Your a good boy Tony. Don’t worry, you’re doing whats right. And one day when the time is right some amazing man is going to dance the Tennesee Waltz with you and sweep you off your feet.
Much love,
Kel
March 1st, 2006 at 8:22 pm
Wow, Tony …
Don’t do that to yourself. I’m incredibly impressed that you take care of her. I think that’s all it is - she knows how much you love her and, once in a while, probably feels bad that you are so young and “stuck” with her so old. Just reassure her, I think that’s all she needs. You area great guy. She knows that, to the n-th degree.
March 2nd, 2006 at 10:07 am
What a good man you are! I don’t think you are selfish at all; rather you are warm and loving and having a normal reaction as someone who is making a great sacrifice in his life. You treasure her. I know how hard it is. You are handling this much better than I did with my dad and I didn’t even do the day-to-day caring for him that you are doing. This post just knocked me for a loop and that is why I couldn’t respond right away. It is so well written and expresses your feelings. All those unexpressed emotions hiding inside me welled up and threatened to come out. (Can’t let that happen.) All I can say is good for you Tony!
March 2nd, 2006 at 10:15 am
Tony, you are so lucky to have your Granny around. She is so lucky to have you. My friends asked me why I had my Mom here for three months and I guess it was because it was good for both of us.
March 2nd, 2006 at 2:56 pm
Wow, Tony, you really took Granny there! Here’s what I think:
This was obviously a very powerful emotional experience for her on several levels. On the one level, to her,you BECAME your grandfather. Think about it. You know you resemble him. that combined with the waltz and the music literally took her back in time. Now , what I know of Granny from all you’ve written about her, I’d surmise that one of her cardinal traits is a great considerate-ness, a tendency to put others, especially you, first. When she realized it was you, it saddened her because she percieves that she’s holding you back. that you shouldn’t be dancing with her, a silly old granny, as she may think, but with your own wife, making your own cherished memories. She’s probably thinking things like this more and more. I’m not sure what you should do, but most likely it will pass. Spring is coming.
That you have those feelings wondering what it would be like if she were gone, I think these thoughts, musings if you will, are quite normal. Don’t punish yourself for them. Everyone has thoughts like that. It doesnt mean anything. I think when you do meet Mr Wonderful, Granny will not ever be any sort of “obstacle”.
Be thankful for your relationship with her. My Grandma had nine children, each of whom had seven to ten children each. She died about 10 years ago and I can’t recall that I ever said more than 10 words to her in my life. she lived nearby and she’d visit, but the most I remember out of her was “now which one are you?” large families are not all that they are cracked up tp be. there’s a LOT of anonymity there.- Rich
March 2nd, 2006 at 10:39 pm
That is so sweet,Tony. But don’t feel bad if a thought about post-Granny crosses your mind, it’s just natural. You are with her now 100%, that’s what counts, and the love and care you are giving will always come back to you - trust that.
March 3rd, 2006 at 3:12 pm
Tony, your love and compassion for Granny has moved me to tears. Whatever happens in the future, the joy of life that you share together will remain in her heart and yours.
March 8th, 2006 at 7:41 pm
You are not selfish for imagining your life in other ways. Actually, it makes you normal. You love your Granny and she knows it. As much as you know she loves you. You are making a sacrifice out of love. That in my book is never a bad thing.
There will come a day when you will be forced to go on w/o her. Sad as that will be, it’s part of the cycle. We all die. You are making the best of your life and hers by being there for her now when she needs you. There is no shame in looking ahead.