They are forced into positions that make them often choose between what they want to what they need to do and utilzing their "special" powers to go beyond. However, there are moments where as fantastically they succeed .. they often fail, fall short.
I like this because it feels more real and more like life. it is a metaphor for the hero's in my life. Complex, human, as great as they are with fault. I am OK with this.. I love them all the more for it.
One such woman is my grandmother. I have always said I am so happy I was born into the grandchild generation for Mary Myers for to be her child .. well had to be daunting with the way she has governed out family and laid out expectations of behavior, norms. Her enabling of some destructive behavior, her rigidness with others.. And for me absolute acceptance and support.
For many years, we were the four grandchildren. Each of us loving her, respecting her, I was partially raised by her, school pick ups, rescues for the latchkey kid that locked herself out, reese cups in the fridge, a nurse to banged up knees and elbows with peroxide and neosporin from the medicine closet, pie dough cinnamon roles on Sundays, the
Seamstress extrodinair.. sewing a prom dress for my sister and all of my sundresses that I loved when I was little, patches to the knees of my jeans that wore out so quickly.
with dolls or other stereotyped toys, a stern warning to get out of the cherry tree.. (again and again) "you'll break your noggin", " Are you to big for your britches to not listen". On my most serious offenses . I would get to read the paddle that had a little deer and bear on it.. "For little deers with Bear Butts" and then the "you are my Little dear .. do you want me to bear your butt".."No grandma" was my reply. A few years ago.. Grandma gave me the paddle with a wink and said I think you have earned this.
At the same time as I had absolute acceptance, I watched her rule of the family. Her judgement, quick sharp words. the trepidation of approach from others. I knew that I was the exception not the norm. I was her "Mert" she my "trouble" together we flurrished. She is my hero. Maybe she needed to be someones hero as much as I needed her to be mine.
She was a cleanliness queen, plastic runways from the front door to the kitchen were left down for family to walk on so the pristene mustard shag carpeting (that lasted from late 70s to 2005) would not be hurt, These only came up for special occasions, card night, class reunions..etc..Sheets over all the furniture except grandpa's chair, shoes off by the door on newspaper over the air intake. Coats hung or place in the dowstairs bedroom.. Walls and banisters/ woodwork washed monthly, dusting and vaccuming daily. The joke was grandma was white glove approved.. a white glove taken over any surface in her house would still be clean. When friends came over she would apologize for the "mess" .. and the standare reply was "Oh Mary the house is lovely". When my babyshower took place at the white house on Cole St. My friends looked at my aged grandmother when she said "well I washed the walls before you arrived" with astonishment that this 85 year old woman was up washing the walls that very morning.. (the plastic and sheets were also removed.. It was a special event.. )She notoriously used me as a mule for smuggling "Rumballs" at Christmas to a teacher in my elementary school, this took place from my time in elementary school, middle school and then to the church I joined with the same teacher in highschool years. For years I as an underage mule took this liquor laced nutty winter treat as in a lovely christmas tin, wrapped in a ziploc to help disguise the "RUM smell" that would if not hid behind plastic make me smell like and 8 year old who had tied one off the night before with some bacardi and walnuts.. to a family friend. with just the "I need you to take this package to Mrs.. " and me happily complying as I took the tin.. Grandma sternly with a voice I knew not to cross.. "those are for her .. not you".. " Yes Grandma" in confirmation
When I called to tell her I was having a child out of wed lock, and I had no intention of Marrying the man. That we had issues and I was not going to tie myself financially as well as by a child at this point. My grandmother was truly worried. It is the first time that she "spoke about tradition" and this isn't what we do. She spoke to my aunt, my mother.. but not me.. So when I heard these things I called... "Grandma I heard that you have concerns" ( She had been at my grandfather's grave tending it, plunging the spade into the ground: "Carl do you see what our granddaughter is doing.. The baby will be a bastard.. Do you see?" ) This idea of a "bastard" in the family and hardship was bringing her great distress. So i confronted it: I simply said. "I hear you are concerned about the baby being labeled a bastard, grandma they don't put that on the birth certificate anymore, and Avery will have her father's last name, she will know where she comes from on both sides, I won't let her be a bastard"... a sigh came from the other end. 
"Gretchen, we just didn't do it this way in my time... I know times have changed. I am glad she will have her fathers name on the birth certificate. " I followed up with a quote from my sister. "Well, grandma as Suzanne said when I told her.in reference to me ".You have never done anything in a conventional sense.. why start now" ... My grandmother said "true" and then "I love you" Grandma;s and my conversation then turned to the pregnancy itself, how it was going, how was the room for the baby progressing, did I need anything so on and so forth. I called my sister to tell her about my attempt to allieviate the fears.... My sister upon telling her the story stated.. "You told her I said that... ahhh.. what did she say".. The stabbing at my grandfather's grave ceased. She wasn't especially happy that I wasn't married but she again accepted me.Two years later.. I called her.. with a familiar phrase "Grandma.. because I love you and respect you I want you to hear this from me before anyone else.. .. " a pause a "yes drawn and lingered with a good... " I said "I am dating a woman." This was my scariest coming out moment.. But this woman who only expected honesty from me.. then proceeded forward with "Am I to love you any less?" I retorted well I hope not .. which is why I am calling you.. She went on with "Well I don't, this isn't what I would have chosen for you.. but I love you and when am I meeting this girl." She then follow up with the line from years earlier "you haven't done anything in a conventional sense, and every family needs one of those thank God you are ours." The healing, empowerment.. love covered the distance.. My fear of being out truly was stripped at that moment..
Here this Conservative, Methodist, Matriarch who loves me and accepts me.. Be wary world because if Mary Myers could see all of me, then your judgement is nothing.. Maybe that has been the truth the entire time for me.. My grandmother's forgiveness, strength, belief and ability to let me live has fostered this faulty, strong enduring loving soul.
The times I would sit at her table and have talks about my parents, my anger, my sadness, confusion.. hurt.. My successes, my passions.. My joys.. over a coke, a snack on brown vinyl and bronzy steel chairs, wood paneling on the walls and love mingling around me. In the midst of all of this was my hero, she helped create part of the chaos and turmoil, she had her flaws but we me.. she was my launching point, my safe harbor.. My Marvel comic star.. No cape necessary.. Apron, polyester slacks, blouses, glasses, lipstick.. her costume.. Her soul radiates from her eyes.. even today as she slips away from us in moments.. When she does lock on .. you see her.. sparkle of rebellion.. and of love..
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