A Story

Konora Narbut was my grandmother.

I did not know my grandmother very well. Whenever we visited her in Philadelphia, she sat in the same corner on the same couch by the same amber colored lamp. She watched life pass her by; she sat on her elbows with a sad and wrinkled countenance; I never saw her in anything other than a nightgown, and she did not leave the confines of her suburban home with the tree in the yard, the hill on the side, and the tar stones on the driveway.

Tonight on the phone, my aunt told me a story about how she met a 78 year old man who knew my grandmother. These were his words, spoken to me by my aunt: "She was the most whimsical and joyful woman I ever met. She was so much fun, and she dressed wonderfully, so artistically. She was Miss Philadelphia."

Immediately, I thought that this woman was not the grandmother that I knew. This woman created fascinating story lines and commanded the attention of handsome, wealthy, and intelligent men. This woman was beautiful and vivacious. But the woman I knew, my grandmother, spent the remainder of her life sitting on the cushion of a shabby couch, barely moving, hardly walking, never living.

Perplexed, I asked my mother what went wrong in Konora's life. It makes me nervous, you see. I see a lot of myself in my grandmother. But I do not want to spend my life looking out a window watching other people live their lives.

Simply, my mom answered my question: "She married the wrong man. He didn't allow her be free."

I thought about that for a bit.

Konora was restrained and held back; she was the mare that was free but had a bag thrown over her head so that she was taken captive in that small Philadelphian home.

Now, this is not anything against my grandfather. I have the utmost respect for my grandfather. He had wonderful character. He was the strongest man I ever knew. He was a fighter and a survivor. But he was structured to a tee. Konora didn't have room to thrive. She was inhibited. She didn't want to get married, but she did; it was what society expected.

So, I say all of this to say that I'm afraid that I've dated all the wrong guys. They're great guys, mostly. However, I think that you can be with a great guy who's still the wrong guy. People are right for each other, or they are wrong for each other. It's simple fact.

Lately though, I've been thinking that, like Konora, I'm free when I'm single. I'm inhibited when I'm smitten. I hope one day it's different, but from my experience, this has been the case. Like Konora, I'd like to have that room of my own. I'd like to have my own window and my own couch, but I would hope I'd have the capability of getting up off that couch when it's time to leave. It's kind of scary, looking at family history. Studies claim we each have a pattern of reverting back to the same familial patterns. However, we can too break free and create our own patterns. We can choose to revert, or choose to be free. But overall, It's just hard to look back at Konora's story. So much vivacity lost on a single decision. I just hope that, one day, when it comes time, I'll have the wisdom to make the right one.