‘The Significance of Curly Hair’ by Kara Zajac

You mentioned your grandmother asked you to write her story when you were ninth grade.
I was the age my daughter is now and was young, cocky, and thought I had all of the answers, just like most teenagers. My grandmother told me that she had been reading a story a boy wrote about his grandfather, proud of his accomplishments in WWII. She looked at me with that hopeful twinkle in her eye and asked, “Would you ever write a story about me?” I hardly noticed the anticipation in her loving smile as I snarked back, “But you’ve never done anything.”

Of all the things I regret, my utter disregard for her feelings is what I wish I could erase. Instantly the twinkle in Gram’s eyes faded, her joyful smile replaced by sadness or maybe even embarrassment that she asked in the first place. The subject was never brought up again.

When I got the call that Gram had fallen I got on the first flight to Boston but wasn’t going to make it in time before she died. Although in a coma my Mom held the phone to my Gram’s ear and I told her that I was writing a book, the story she asked me to write so many years before.

I was able to tell her that her life mattered, her story was worth telling, and that her strength is what made all of us children and grandchildren the successful people we became. I knew Gram heard my words because Mom said her heart rate jumped from 64 to 78 when I was talking about the book. Gram’s biggest fear was being forgotten, by writing her story I will make sure that never happens.

What was the most challenging part of writing your memoir, and what was the most rewarding?
My mother is the youngest of four girls. When coming up with the outline and/or storyboard I tried to format the story around major life events. It was amazing to interview my aunts and mother, realizing that they had all experienced the same event, but had completely different memories and opinions about what happened.

Trying to blend everything into a story that someone would want to read was a bit of a challenge. With memoir writing, it’s very easy to add too much or include information that doesn’t move the story forward. A few of my aunts were upset with my book, feeling like I exposed things that shouldn’t have been talked about. But if no one ever talks about the hard stuff, then no one heals from the past, we continue carrying the weight.

The most rewarding has been seeing the heartfelt connection the story brings. The story helps people remember things they may have forgotten, or helps them move forward where they might have been stuck. Total strangers have come up to me and said, “I really needed to hear this right now.” Or “Your words helped me get over my own grief.”

Being able to bring people together and share love through vulnerable storytelling is quite rewarding. But most important is the feeling I have honored my grandmother in a way that makes her feel loved and appreciated, that her life will affect future generations.

You found a time capsule in one of Gram’s drawers. What did the capsule reveal?
Gram rarely talked about painful things. We all knew she had a nervous breakdown but didn’t really know any of the details. As we were sitting around discussing her life, we realized the big gaps, wishing we could ask more questions because obviously we didn’t know as much as we thought about the specifics of Gram’s life.

My two younger cousins heard us talking and went to their garage, where a lot of Gram’s old things were stored. They brought back a drawer from one of Gram’s old dressers. The drawer itself was the time capsule.

We first uncovered heavy, dark green saucer-shaped tablets. On the prescription label, dated 1957, the year my grandfather died, was Gram’s shaky writing, “Nerve Pills.”

Finding these were uncanny because Gram never took any medicine, not even aspirin. Finding drugs of any sort was quite unsettling because it allowed us to see the enormity of the pain Gram was trying to forget.

The drawer also contained an envelope with Gram’s writing. There was an itemized list of her expenses: milkman, dentist, Nancy’s asthma medicine, dancing lessons… She didn’t have enough money to pay for all of these things, so she would pay each one of them a little bit and had a running balance.

I think her starting figure was around $18, and you could see her struggling to pay her bills, how she would save $.33 for Campho Phenique, which I still have in my medicine cabinet today. In the drawer, we found a bank book that showed deposits made into Gram’s account by my grandfather’s sister, Dorothy. She was the money tree. We also found spermicidal jelly and a diaphragm.

The secret drawer gave the family a very intimate glimpse into the pains and struggles Gram had before my grandfather’s death and after her nervous breakdown. Finding these things answered a lot of questions we never thought to ask her.

How did you come up with the title of your memoir?
Gram always wanted curly hair. In her day curls were all the rage and she thought you could do absolutely anything with them. Gram’s hair was thin, flat, limp, and baby-fine. She would complain about how it stuck so close to her head. She was always in rollers or pin curls, getting permanent waves, anything to make her hair the opposite of what it was. She told me once that one of the reasons she was attracted to my grandfather was because he had curly hair and at least their children would not be burdened with her limp locks.

How important is it for you to share your Gram’s wisdom, wit, recipes and family bond with your daughter?
Having a child of my own helped me deal with Gram’s death. I realized I could pass all of the wisdom and knowledge Gram taught me onto the next generation, keeping Gram’s spirit alive. It also meant that death wasn’t the end of Gram, she lives within all of us and now within our daughter, who is named after her. Senia, after Gram, and Mae, because we’re Southern now.

Kim and I have tried to instill Gram’s love, empathy, and compassion into our daughter. My parents moved 10 minutes down the road and for about 8 years Kim’s parents were 10 minutes in the other direction, so grandparents were very present in Senia Mae’s childhood. I feel like traditions and values are passed down from women, braiding generations together from lifetime to lifetime. It’s important to learn from our past, so we can protect our future.

You meet with grief support groups. Why is this important to you?
Grief is a funny thing. No one really knows how to do it. You can’t really be taught the right way or the wrong way. Gram suffered a nervous breakdown after the overwhelming grief of losing her husband and then never really talked to any of us about the pain it inflicted on her.

I feel like sharing stories and talking about our pains is a way to cope and move forward. It also makes us realize that deep down, we’re not that different from each other. We feel the same joys, the same pains. I think in this world of intense division, it’s important to remember how we are all deeply connected on an emotional level.

www.karazajac.com
www.atmospherepress.com