I Made It!

My grandmother died at the age of 99. To her last days, she loved to tell the story, many times over, of a day when I was about four. I had been pestering my parents to go visit Grandma and had been repeatedly refused. Instead, we called Grandma and I told her my plight. In fact, contrary to my parents’ clear statements otherwise, I told Grandma that I was, indeed, coming to visit.

Apparently, somewhere along the line my parents relented and the visit took place. Upon our arrival, my grandmother opened the door to me tromping up the front steps announcing “I made it!” This was the tableau that was so memorable to my grandmother over a span of 45 years .

What was it that made my grandmother admire that so much? It wasn’t something intrinsically admirable about my behavior. (My other grandmother would have been aghast at my arrogant pig-headedness. My parents often viewed it as contentiousness.) For those who knew her, it was easy to see that it was because she had the very same traits, which she proudly viewed as independence and drive. And, now, I look back and admire those traits in her.

I, to the last of my days, will love to tell the story, many times over, of the times my grandmother found delight in the actions of a four-year old tromping up her steps. What is it that makes me admire this so much?