Remembering my Grandma Margaret
I lost my beloved Grandma Margaret in May 2025. Below is a lightly-edited transcript of the remembrance that I shared at her funeral.
There are many perspectives, lenses, and stories through which to remember my grandma. And, as your program points out, I share from the perspective of being her grandson. This perspective is not an omniscient, neutral, bird's eye view. It is also my true and honest perspective.
Last night, we grandchildren agreed that if we were to make a list of our biggest fans, Grandma Margaret would be at the top. She was a true fan. A true hype woman, a true aficionado, devotee, enthusiast. Not a bandwagon fan, but a steady, genuine supporter.
As a fan, she loved to make noise for us. Sometimes she used external instruments, such as air horns, firecrackers, an organ, or a piano. And sometimes she used her voice, singing or yelling or hollering or just a solid, "ALRIIIIIGHTTT."
The New Oxford Dictionary defines a fan as: "a person who has a strong interest in or admiration for a particular person or thing."
True fans are generous to that person or thing they admire. When I was just a little older than the great-grandchildren here today, I interpreted my grandma's generosity through the language of extravagant Christmas gifts and credit-card fueled trips to Walmart. She never hesitated to buy me a new gadget, like a watch with a calculator on it, or a silicone case for my iPod mini. She bought us pretty much anything we wanted ("ya want it? Get it!"), and as a kid, that was a very effective way to communicate "I support you," "I'm your biggest fan."
As I got older, I noticed that she also communicated love and support through storytelling, through narratives. A true fan will reminisce and tell stories from the past and also shape stories about the present moment. This was true of my grandma as well.
When she visited us in Kentucky while I was in high school, she often mentioned, "you are just always so studious, going up to your room to study your AP textbooks." I never found the right time to tell her that I was not reading my AP textbooks 100% of the time.
I think she told these kinds of stories about her grandchildren, partly because she was a true fan, and she believed them, and partly because she also wanted us to believe them. She wanted us to be the best versions of ourselves, to believe that we had one-in-a-million or one-in-a-billion talent. She encouraged us to use our potential by sharing what she saw, even if she was looking at us through glittery rose-colored glasses.
Her perspective was a little bit like glitter. When you look at glitter, it reflects back some of your own light, and also refracts that light to create new colors from different angles, depending on your perspective.
As a true fan, my grandma sometimes reflected back to us as if to say, "you can do better." And that's something only a true fan, a true hype woman, is willing to say. It takes a true supporter to tell someone, "you can do better."
One story that I think illustrates this well, happens to be captured on video. It was May 30, 2015, and my brother was graduating high school and Grandma Margaret was turning 75. We had dinner at the Merrick Inn, in Lexington KY, and then we went back to what we called "the farmette," our house, which was a descendent of "the farm" that many of us know and love.
We had a birthday cake for my grandma: a circular cake with a white base, embellished with some minty green and powder blue icing. And I encourage you to watch the video at some point if you can, any of us would be happy to share, because it starts out like any normal happy birthday video: I had the honor of lighting the candle, then we started singing happy birthday to my grandma for her 75th birthday.
And then, we don't even get through the fourth note before she stops us: "No, no, no, wrong note! Wrong note!" As if to say "you can do better!" As if to say, "I know you, and I know what you are capable of, and I would love to see you use more of your potential."
My grandma was a true fan. She was a true fan of her family: her biological family, her bonus family, and her expansive chosen family here. If you are here, I know that you are in the Margaret Losik fan club, and I also know that Margaret Losik was in your fan club. We will miss her cheering and clapping for us. But, in the words of Alberto Ríos, whenever I hear thunder, I will hear it as her applause.
After we restarted the happy birthday song, my grandma took her eye off the cake to do some conducting. She was wearing kind of a silky butter yellow blouse and looking around at cousins and relatives from many branches of the family tree who were in town.
She cued us to harmonize as the song ended, and after we were done singing, she said, well, she sang: "that was absolutely beautiful."