Making Peace with the Grandmother Who Abandoned Us
With lovingkindness, there’s more space in my heart for her
For years, one person has been at the center of my lovingkindness practice: my great-grandmother, Melba.
Melba was a force of nature. She traveled the world, snapping countless photographs while living for months at a time in an R.V. with a toy poodle. For a young boy in a Midwestern sea of suburban strip malls, Melba symbolized something exotic and free.
I felt only the purest love from Melba. I came out to her at 20, nervous about how she’d react, but she accepted me without hesitation. Her love never wavered.
So when I took up lovingkindness some years ago, I began with her.
For those not familiar with it, lovingkindness (or metta, as it is known in the original Pali), is a Tibetan meditative practice where you call to mind different people and send them positive wishes.
The version I practice begins with a “beloved” or “benefactor”— someone like a grandmother who inspires deep love or a mentor who played a formative role in your life. Someone like Melba.
For years now, I have silently chanted these wishes to her: May you be happy. May you be healthy. May you feel safe. May you rest in peace.
