I’ve been listening to Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin. A friend recommended it. Last week, a particular line caught my attention and made my mind wander away from the story. I heard the words, but not really. It was a moment where I wished I was reading the actual text, so I could bookmark the page, underline the line that went something like this…Everything you need to know about her, you can tell by her car.
My mind went to the days right after my Grandmother passed away. We were waiting on a new car, so my husband was borrowing my Grandma’s car that she had been driving right up until the few weeks before she died. I had to move the car for some reason and as soon as I sat in the driver seat, I was overcome with emotion as I looked around at all of the things that made this car undeniably hers. The rosary beads that hung from the rear view mirror. The handmade crocheted afghan that covered the backseat, in various shades of brown. The little green stick that sat in a cup holder, a gadget used for scratching lotto tickets. There were even folded lotto tickets, clearly losers and plenty of the dust leftover from the scratching. The radio was still tuned to some channel in the 800s, a monotone voice delivering the news, the same voice that was always on in her car for as long as I can remember. I knew if I popped the trunk, I’d find a stash of faux flowers she swapped out at the cemetery weekly.
In that moment, I felt her presence, or maybe it was the lack of I was feeling- surrounded by the details that had defined her. Funny how one line of a story can bring you back…
Where There Is Joy 
I remember Ralph Fletcher wrote something like – write about a character in a way that the reader know what change is in his/her pocket. This writing about the items in your grandmother’s car makes me think of that. I feel like I know your grandmother better after reading this. My favorite item is the lottery ticket scratching tool. The faux flowers are great too! This is one of my favorite posts! I think I’ll try writing about my dad’s 18 year old VW van and see where that gets me!
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Oh! That makes me think of her too… she had a little change purse. She always tried to pay with exact change. She would dump out the coins in her hand and slowly hand them to the cashier, one by one. ❤️
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I can picture her doing that….I guess that is really kind of a thing of the past now as everyone pays with a card (or ApplePay if you are younger).
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This is an amazing slice and tribute to your grandma. Objects gathered by a person REALLY do say SO much about a person. I feel like I now know your grandma having sat in her car with you. What a lovely lady! Thanks for sharing her with me today!
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And I’m also thinking how this would be a lovely mentor text to share with kids and then ask them to write about themselves, based on what they find in their backpack! The things we gather around us say so much!
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Love this idea!
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This is so good. I know that’s not what you’re supposed to say in a comment, but I mean it does such a good job of capturing a person (a character) without actually describing. Each little item feels like a piece of her story, and we want to know more. It’s also so good that it came from a line approximately heard from your car. It’s the perfect reason for writing slices, since others may never have written this down.
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Jessica, your post captures the life your grandmother lived – those flowers in the trunk show a caring, loving person traveling along the roadways with heart and a mission. She lived and breathed and cared. And her car proves it. What a fabulous post to share your grandmother’s caring soul with us.
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Well, for someone who didn’t have a slice, you sure pulled it together! As others have said, it’s beautiful tribute to your grandmother and who she was. The line of text to the memory to the writing is perfect example of how intertwined the reading and writing process can be if we just let it. Yay, you!
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I love how the line from the book took you to this moment of noticing and writing. Picking up on those tiny details about your Grandma’s car helped us see inside her. You captured her so well, and in the process, inspired us all to find ways to describe a person based on objects that tell us more about them. Thank you for sharing this!
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Just wonderful and truly an idea to squirrel away for those difficult days in the March Challenge when a post seems impossible. (I also love Gabrielle Zevin and her latest novel, one my book club chose to read.)
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This was an idea I was stashing for March…I needed it sooner than expected! 🤣
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Just as you were close to your grandmother, I was the same way with mine. I read through some of the emails I had saved from her last week – just so I could feel close to her again. Reading her words brought her back to life. I could hear her speaking those words in my mind’s eye. (Is it the mind’s eye if it’s auditory? I don’t know, but I think you know what I mean.)
Isabelle, named after her, has some expressions that look just like my grandmother. While they’re nothing alike, I often feel my grandmother’s presence in my daughter.
I know you miss your grandmother so much. As the years pass by, you’ll see how you’ll feel her presence at the oddest of times.
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Oh! I have emails from my other grandmother. I saved voicemails from my Grandma. Her voice does make her feel close. I know what you mean about seeing them in your kids. My kids all have things they do that remind me of her. I’m grateful for that and the small moments of remembering. ❤️
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Hi Jessica. This is one of those things you don’t seem to think of until you’re in the moment. You captured so much of your grandmother through the objects you describe, the lottery ticket dust, rosary beads, crocheted afghan, and the faux flowers. A compact piece that packs in the detail.
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