When Anna Shea’s second marriage fell apart
her life began to spiral slowly downward to its end. She lost her status and
her home and her community of friends, but more than that she lost her sense
that life had much coherence or purpose. She felt betrayed and she felt
bewildered. She grew sick and she grew old and above all she grew tired–worn
out with the effort of putting up a good front.
Through it all, a couple of things kept her
going. One was her grandchildren. She was always just amazed at how they were
turning out. When she held them up in comparison with their playmates and
peers, as she often did, it was absolutely laughable, how much smarter and
better-looking and more commendable they were. She loved them unconditionally,
and if it wasn’t quite true that they could do no wrong, well, it was her
abiding belief that their missteps were only tiny, momentary lapses in judgment
and in no way an indication of any flaw in their characters.
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| Anna Shea with her favorite daughter |
In short, she had an incorrigible – that is
to say, grandmotherly – conviction that Scott and Emily were born to conquer
the world.
Anna also had her daughter, Joan, who was
for her, as she is for all of us, her rock and her anchor. She was also her
bridge, connecting her to her grandchildren and bringing back to her that time
of her life when she had a young child of her own, a precious thing whose care
and keeping was fraught with peril, but so impossibly rewarding. She was
constantly amazed--and incredibly proud--of how her daughter was turning out,
as well, up until her very end.
Anna was forever asking us – sometimes
several times in the same conversation: “Does Scott have a girlfriend?”…“Does
Emily have a boyfriend?” This was simple unseemly human curiosity, you might
say, but you could also see it as a blessing – a benediction on her
grandchildren. Maybe she recalled a time when falling in love was a giddy
adventure, when being in love was a life-affirming experience, and she
fervently wished that for them. Maybe she remembered that time when life was
just opening up before you, in all its splendor, and that was what she wished
to bequeath.
