Today I visited my Great Granny’s grave.
Great Granny lived in Victoria, Texas. When I was 8, we moved to New Mexico, so I didn’t see much of her as I was growing up. I have many memories of her from my childhood, but virtually none from my adolescent years. My only memories from those years are of exchanging letters, and in my youthful short-sightedness, I kept none of them.
Great Granny was the first person to tell me little things about my dad’s biological mother. From Great Granny, I learned Evelyn’s middle name and found out that she died exactly eleven days after my dad’s birth. She didn’t say much about Evelyn, and now I wish I had asked more. I know Great Granny would’ve told me more about her daughter who died at the young age of 21. Great Granny would’ve wanted me to know about my roots.
I remember as a young girl spending hours in her living room walking ’round and ’round on her floor, tracing the pattern in the woven rug. Don’t know why it fascinated me so much, but in my 6-year-old mind, it was great fun! When I visited for the day as a teenager, I remember walking into her kitchen and feeling immediately at home. It SMELLED like Great Granny, and what a welcoming scent it was.
I visited again as a teenager. My sister and I were staying with my grandfather for a few days, so we all drove into Victoria to visit her. When asked where she’d like to meet for a family dinner, it was Grandy’s. To this day, I chuckle. Grandy’s was her standard Sunday lunch location, and since we were visiting on Sunday for lunch, it was the obvious choice!
As a young adult, I stopped by with my sister on a road trip through Texas. Great Granny was still there. I couldn’t wait to walk into the kitchen to be greeted by the sights and smells of my childhood. Sure enough, as I walked in the door, I was immediately enveloped in all of those memories. There on the counter was a pitcher of sweetened iced tea and a plate of oatmeal creme pies–because no one visits Great Granny and leaves without eating! A tradition that continues today in the Fuhrman family! 
Today I visited Victoria for the funeral of my Aunt Juanita (Great Granny’s daughter-in-law). Although we were there for Juanita, I wanted to take this chance to visit the other Fuhrman plots. Since I first learned about Evelyn when I was 13, I wanted to visit her gravesite and pay my respects.
So after Juanita’s funeral service, my mom and husband stayed with me so I could lay flowers at the gravesites. As I looked around at the visible markers, I saw that Evelyn was the first Fuhrman buried here. What does a mother go through, purchasing cemetery plots for her family and having to bury her 21-year-old daughter first? It was emotional for me, seeing Evelyn’s gravestone. I’ve always felt a connection or pull to her. Her sudden death so soon after my dad’s birth always seemed like such a terrible way for the universe to cheat my family, my father, of her presence.
Having placed the flowers on Evelyn’s grave, I stepped behind the funeral service tent. In that moment when I saw the stone with “Selma Fuhrman” on it, I was overcome with emotion. When she died in 1998, a mere 5 months after I last visited her, I don’t recall crying very much. I cried with my dad when we got the call, but aside from that, I don’t remember truly grieving, or remembering. As I stepped behind the tent, all of the memories I’ve recounted here (and more) came rushing back and the floodgates opened.
Today I finally grieved for Great Granny’s death. But I’m glad I did, because in doing so, I rediscovered many wonderful memories of her.
Today I said goodbye to my Great Granny.
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