As you all know, today is May 20th 2011. What many of you probably don’t know is that my grandmother would have been 78 today—and since it seems you, my lovely friends, have some interest in this blog, ergo me (thx!), you should know that this is the woman who has had the biggest impact on my life as I know it. My grandmother. Diane Luke Getman, “Diney.”
May 25th will mark the 8 year anniversary of her death, which still pains me in a completely natural way – it’s the kind of pain you learn to accept because like all loses, we eventually must. Sometimes I just miss her so freaking much it makes me upset and sick to my stomach. But most of the time I just miss her because I wish she was still able to experience this world with me and my mom and her children. I wish I could hear her signature “hi honey” when she answered the phone, and I wish I could ask her more questions. I wish I could hold her beautiful hand again. I think about how she’d be so tickled pink that I work at the D&D Building, and how she would love to pick out fabrics here (I think she’s be especially drawn to Lee Jofa). I think about how I’d love for her to visit me in the “big city,” because after all, the magical experiences I had visiting New York with my grandparents and sister so many times as a child are a large part of why I moved here. I wish she could be around to be a mother a while longer for my own mom. There are so many things “I wish.” And that’s ok, all of these things only bring a smile to my face when I think about all of the hypothetical situations, places and sweet moments she would enjoy – to me, besides the ways in which she remains a light in all of our hearts, this is how she is still very much alive.
Diney was born in Troy, New York 78 years ago. She died in Middletown, Connecticut with my Mom, my uncle Chris and my uncle Shawn in the room by her side. She was a mother to 4 boys and 2 girls (though their eldest, RT, died when he was just a baby). She was a wonderful wife to her equally wonderful husband for 47 years. She was the daughter of Robert Ashley Luke and Elizabeth Brennan Luke, and sister to Robert Luke. She graduated from The College of St. Rose in Albany, NY and became a practicing nurse. She had 8 grandchildren (my cousin Brennan was born a year after she passed) and countless acquaintances and friends. While she and my grandfather traveled extensively, they have called Old Lyme, CT home for the past 30 years (but like most grandparents livin’ the good life, they spent winters in Florida for as long as I can remember).
My grandmother had the most vibrant laugh and speaking voice, a beautiful sound that if I focus enough, I can still hear ringing in my ears. A devout Christian, it was like pretty darned important that we were at church every Sunday – as I kid, I only really liked going to church because I could lean on Diney when we’d have to stand for a long time, and also because we use to both hold the missal when we sang. I would look up at this tall, distinguished woman standing next to me, and always felt so proud that she was signing the loudest. She always smelled like Shalimar perfume and like the flowers she kept in her garden. I would love when her red lipstick would stay stamped on my cheek, and nothing felt better than crawling into bed with Diney as a child when Poppy would wake up early. Being the oldest grandchild, and well, being me, (showoff), I would also love to please Diney. Her approval and the pride she took in me was the greatest gift I could ever ask for. She loved Christmas, loved going to our family’s lake house in Brantingham New York, having her toe nails painted pink and her elegant fingers a soft neutral. She loved touring my sister and I around her garden every single summer (oh!!, the lambs’ ears, petunias and bleeding hearts!) but most of all enjoyed all of our family get togethers (of which there were and are many). She called us “sweetie” and “lovie,” and while sleeping over their house, Megs and I weren’t allowed to have breakfast until our beds were made (we also had to wait to eat our post-chuch donoughts until our hands had been washed…..germs, ya know). No one rocked a white Cadillac better than Diane, and no one looked better in (or spent more at) Talbots. She always baked a lemon jello cake for my birthday (my favorite) and I’ll never forget the last time we spoke when she was admitted to hospice and told my sister and I that she “loved us more than we’d ever know.” She was my grandmother, my godmother, my confirmation sponsor and the woman whose footsteps I will always be trying to follow.
And this is just how I knew her. Imagine the cumulative memories, moments and sentiments about Diane Ashley Luke Getman. As her headstone says, “she lit up our lives.”
I think of you every day Diney. Looking back at this morning, when I woke up and hadn’t realized that it was May 20th yet, something told me that I should wear your gold knot earrings today (I try not to wear them too often because I don’t ever want to lose them). It wasn’t until I glanced down at my phone on the subway that I realized today was your birthday. I brought my hand up to my ears, kept them there for a minute and just smiled ♥
(I’m kicking myself that I don’t have A. a scanner, or B. all of my/our AMAZING pictures of Diney -- some ridiculously vintage pics where my grandparents are dressed to the nines, beauty shots of Diney alone, etc. I’m workin’ from facebook here, people. Oh well, you get the jest. She was really that beautiful.
