Gracious Grit

In Memoriam of my Grandmother

Hello fellow travelers on the current! I hope that you all have had a wonderful holiday season! I am going to be doing something a little bit different for today’s post. No critical theory, no politics, and perhaps only a little bit of religion. This post is in honor and memory of my grandmother, Gaynelle Galyon, whom I called Nana, who died 10 years ago on December 27, 2014.

Nana was born in the small East Tennessee town of Sweetwater on December 14, 1932. I unfortunately do not know a whole lot about her early life, but I understand enough to know that she lived through very hard times during the Great Depression which I believe included the death of her sister, Frankie, at an early age. In spite of it all though, Nana did what she seemed to do her entire life: persevere. She stayed in school through high school and exceled, particularly in math, on her way to graduating at the top of her class at Sweetwater High School and received offers to attend college, but she ultimately chose not to go in order to care for her family.

She would then meet, fall in love with, and marry a man that I have never met: my grandfather, Everett Galyon. Everett served in the US Navy and sailed around the entire world as a member of the crew of the destroyer class USS Waldron. His escapades included trips to Greece, the North Pole (and membership in the so called Royal Order of “Blue Nose”), he crossed the Equator to become a member of the Ancient Order of the Deep, and sailed to Japan where he picked up a precious family heirloom: a beautiful collection of fine china from Japan that he sent to Nana. Upon his return, Nana and Everett had their first child: my mother, Ramona, in 1960 followed by uncle, Joe, four years later.

Tragically, Everett was killed in a car accident on his way to learn new methods in anglet- making in 1970. Nana was the phone operator who dispatched first responders to the site of the accident. In an instant, she became a single mother with children aged 9 and 6 (give or take a year), respectively and my great-grandmother moved in with them. Nana met that challenge head on, just like all of the challenges in her life, with a combination of true grit and a grace, elegance, and love that she gave to all.

She instilled her love of learning and music into both of her children and a love of learning which propelled them both to go on to earn advanced degrees in their respective fields, just as I am on the way to earning mine. All the while, Nana invested in others and became a stalwart in the community. She served the City of Sweetwater and the Utilities Board for over 44 years while being a fixture of the local First Baptist Church.

When my twin sister Bekah and I came along in 1993 and until Nana’s death in 2014, I recall her being a typical doting grandmother: showering both, and I like to think especially me (sorry Bekah!) with gifts, hugs, and a love of learning and books that has never left me. Most of my visits to her house included breakfast trips to Hardee’s, (aka Carl’s Jr. for west coast readers), where she taught me a combination that I use to this day: putting strawberry jam on a sausage biscuit. It may sound odd, but try it! Trust me on this! She also got the chance to, in a way, fulfill her lifelong desire to teach math by helping me with my math homework growing up.

Once I entered college and she ended up moving closer to my college, she would always leave her door open for me to study and would always ask me about what I was studying and what I was learning. Even if it was not something she was interested in, she would always listen and encourage me. I think she always knew that I was going to be an academic. Even when I was quiet, she always knew that I was thinking about something. Tragically, she would have a series of strokes that would force her to move into a care facility within walking distance of my dorm.

Every day until her death, I would visit her and tell her about what I was learning. I would push her in her wheelchair to look at the birds, and get ice cream. No matter if I had my own, she would always share hers with me as well. Even through the strokes took her ability to speak for the most part, she would always give me a hug and say “Good boy” when I would go back to school.

I think about Nana often, especially in the holiday season. I often think about regrets that she did not get to see certain milestones in my life. I wish that she’d had the opportunity to meet my wife, to see me finish my Master’s degrees and my admission into my current PhD program. Most of all though, I miss seeing the rare instance of a soft but very real strength that she embodied. Then I think, as I said in the eulogy that I gave at her memorial service, if we look at others as ends in themselves to be served, cared for, and nutured, when we face all that life throws at us with strength and determination without our hearts and spirits becoming hardened, she is alive within us all.

The philosopher Albert Camus famously said that we must imagine Sisyphus to be happy in his task of pushing the boulder up the mountain even though it inevetiably would roll down the mountain. I think that Nana embodied that kind of life with what I call gracious grit. This is the type of life that I strive to live. Even though I fail every day, just as she did I’m sure. I was fortunate to have witnessed that kind of grit and termination in the life of a loved one. Her example inspires me every day, and I share it today in hopes that it will inspire you. Happy New Year!