Me and Baba 2003
I am sad.
The loss I have been dreading for years and years has finally come. I didn't think it would hurt so much. But, it does and that makes me feel even more defeated. Didn't I know she would go? Didn't I know it would hurt? What's wrong with me?
People that I love look at me with a blank face, "what's the matter?" is the question in their eyes.
I had the chance to say goodbye many times. An opportunity I took, over and over again. I even said goodbye when she couldn't hear me anymore. Which was a pretty empty feeling.
One good thing, I had the opportunity to process my grief by talking about Baba at her memorial service. Then, to come home... and in the silence of the day, you remember 400 more things that you could have said because she meant so much.
It's sad.
I knew I would lose Baba. I knew it would hurt. Something about the finality of it all feels heavy and harsh.
I loved that lady. I think the older I got the more she meant. The more children I had, the more she meant. And, as the years rolled by, the less I could convey all of these feelings to her.
There are so many memories. So many areas of my heart that she touched. Back before she was sick and before her her mind began to fail her, I was too young and naive to appreciate her the way I should. Truth is, I would have never been able to appreciate her enough. For the past year, Baba has been lucid very little. So, as the reality of losing her set in, the less she was able to enjoy company or visits at all.
Something about being the ripe old age of 35 makes me really, really appreciate her. I guess when I am 75, it will make me feel like she is a bonafide saint.
*sigh*
(My contribution to her memorial service)
I am Rebekah Hudgins Vepraskas, Gloria’s daughter, Elaine’s granddaughter. I knew her as Baba. And, she was epic.
She lived a very long life and while I am not sad that she had to leave this earth, her death brings to the surface everything she meant to me and the impression she left on my life, which was immense and the memories, thoughts and feelings are overwhelming.
She never pulled a punch; you knew exactly what she thought. Recently, I was crediting that similar trait in myself, you know “shooting straight”, as a Hudgins trait (from my daddy’s side), but it was my Baba’s way-through and through. I should give her credit, too.
When I was 7 years old, my family began going to this church -together with Elaine and Ted, (Baba and Paw Paw) and my relationship with Baba would never be the same. We sat with her in THREE church services a week. Usually on the 3rd row and I loved this new routine and the exposure it gave me to Baba and Paw Paw. She wore beautiful outfits to church, I looked for her to come around the corner to join us saving her seat, and she always looked beautiful. She knew everyone and everyone knew her. I remember just watching her move about the church. I was in awe of her and appreciated how so many people truly loved her.
My Aunt Beth’s family and my Aunt Carole’s family also attended Rehoboth. Rehoboth was a family affair, which was so fun. It’s one of the many reasons those years are so dear to my heart.
294-73~75
This was my grandmother’s phone number in Stone Mountain and I loved to call her as a little girl. I can hear her now, “Hel-lo”, so warm, so friendly, so Baba. I would call her and say, “can I come see you, Baba?” Whenever possible, she would say, “shuuure”, can your momma meet me at the Waffle House?” (Uh-oh! Better ask momma if it’s OK?) And Baba would come and get me in her big Chevy Caprice and I loved her for it.
I am the 6th born child out of 7 children and in the hustle and bustle of my home growing up, I was eager to escape away to my Baba and Paw Paw’s home. My identical twin, Mary, and I had sleep overs with Baba, often. It was even better when this sleep over included my cousin Alyson, our best friend, who was just a few months younger and we felt like triplets.
The neat thing about Baba’s house was that I wasn’t one of 7 or even one of 5, I was just Beka. She let me do almost whatever I wanted and mostly I just soaked her in.
I marinated in the love that she and my grandfather so freely gave. They gave their time, their most precious gift. As a grown person, now I realize what a precious gift it was that Baba was always so available to me. Once a month she had a planned event at Rehoboth called the Young at Heart dinner for the senior adults in the church. I can remember being very annoyed when she had to attend this dinner and we could not spend the night with her.
No one knew laundry like Elaine Moore knew laundry. She washed clothes out of pure enjoyment (or at least I thought so) and she never tired of putting Tide detergent to good use.
She called me “Angel” every time we spoke and I loved hearing her say this word. She called all of her grandchildren, Angel. I can hear her saying it now.
She had a well-stocked chewing gum drawer, which I thought was SUCH a good idea as a little girl. We could have as much gum as we wanted. Carefree Peppermint gum, she had an endless supply.
She took time with me. She taught me how to cross stitch, crochet ~she tried to teach me how to sing harmony (never quite caught on), she taught me how to brush my teeth and shave my legs. She taught me how to be silly as an adult ~just to make the children~ in your life laugh. She and my grandfather danced around and were fun and funny. She taught me how to love Jesus.
She was bull headed and at the same time gentle. She was very proud of everyone she loved, even if their accomplishments were small. She bragged about all of the Switzer’s, Holt’s and Kenimer’s to our family. They were all the best and brightest. We heard that the Switzer’s, Kenimer’s and Holt’s were equally informed with any accomplishments on our side of the family. It was a running joke, but no one told Baba. You could surprise her with a visit and yummy treats and she would say, “That Alyson is an excellent softball player, she really hustles!” or “Madelyn Youngblood is the smartest child in the world, did you know she’s reading already?” or “that Ted Holt is a dollllll, I just think he is the sweetest boy!”
Andrew said one time, “You know, it’s funny, if I ever think I know what Baba is going to say, she often says something opposite of what I expected.” She always kept us guessing.
She loved S’EM up, she never pronounced the V in seven and she always had cases of this lemon lime libation on hand. To me, whose mother didn’t buy coke_ it was wonderful, I guzzled as many se’m ups as possible at Baba’s.
She liked her coffee HOTTT and would send it back 5 times if it wasn’t hot enough. Sometimes I wondered if her goal was singeing off all of her taste buds!
She had a closet full of beautiful shoes that you could get lost in, all of her tiny, lovely, size six shoes~~ I adored them all and these shoes made for a dreamy afternoon of dress up for a little girl. Her foot was so small but the impression she made in the world was enormous.
I realize how blessed I am to have been her granddaughter. She was very good at everything she did and she knew it. I only hope that I can raise my three children to love Jesus like she raised her 4 daughters to do and I hope that I can one day have the confidence to be such a wonderful grandmother that I can say in advance, I want my grandchildren to speak on my behalf at my funeral and have complete confidence that they will have many, many wonderful stories to tell.
I will add more thoughts about Baba as they come to me and I work through this ocean of feelings called grief.
Just getting started,
