Granny

Just a short writing about probably the most influential person in my life. It is not in any way complete and very rough.

My Granny

My granny was my best friend.  She was the one constant in my life, and even if she didn’t like the choices I made (i.e. getting pregnant at 18, getting my tongue pierced) she helped me deal with the aftermath anyway (She didn’t disown me and she crushed up ice for me. You choose for which each belongs.)  She was 69 when I was born, so it always seemed weird to me how open-minded and understanding she was even though she was still a grandmother. Having lived through the depression and multiple wars, she dealt with rationing and many political and social changes; however, that didn’t seem to prevent her from empathizing with me. A stupid girl with more opportunities and an easier childhood than she had.

She let me make my mistakes, which I definitely heard about, but she didn’t shut me off. I remember distinctly how she sighed a big sigh when I told her I was pregnant, but she also told me she would help me. I was lucky in that aspect. That doesn’t always happen. But my granny opened her house to me. She made sure I still got to my college classes.  She made sure I didn’t give up. I couldn’t have asked for a stronger woman in my life. If I can be half as strong as she for half as long, I will have lived a successful life.

At 91 she navigated the crowds at Barton Coliseum to see me graduate with my bachelors degree. At 93 she did the same for my masters at the Jack Stephens Center. When others would not. Not my brothers. Not my extended family. She did that for me, but I also think I did that for her. I know she was afraid I wouldn’t have done all the things I grew up saying I would do, all the things she listened to me say over and over. Sure, I didn’t become a lawyer, but I did get my education; I did not let the minor hiccup of having a child at 18 stop me from accomplishing something.

It’s funny how, looking back, we see things so differently. I wish I had just a few days back with her. I would love to be with her while she tells me how to spend my money appropriately and not be wasteful. Turn off the lights and turn up the air conditioner because “money doesn’t grow on trees.”  I never knew how important she would be to me now that she is gone. What I considered important then doesn’t even begin to touch the surface of how important to my life I now believe her to be.

Reviews

[Carol Cashes]

Not rough, real and honest. Grandmothers tend to be more flexible than parents, and are much beloved for it. I loved it. I'm sorry you miss her, but 93! You were lucky to have her so long. Again, I liked it. Thanks for a good short read.

[EHope]

I actually had her until she was 98. Still miss her though. Thanks for the review, Carol.