My Grandma is awesome.
I’ve always loved the woman, but the older I get, the more I realize how great she really is. She’s not perfect, but we all know that nobody is. When I was a little girl, I remember looking at the pictures in my great-grandmother’s house of her kids, and then running to my mother and announcing that “Grandma is the prettiest of all her sisters.” My mother agreed. My grandmother never would. She sells herself short. She always does, and looks is just the beginning. She has a great sense of humor. She doesn’t know it. She’s a very intelligent and wise woman. She doesn’t know it. I hear stories about other people’s grandmothers, including my mother’s, and I know how blessed I’ve been that God gave me the two Grandmas that He did. A few weekends ago, my Mom and I took my baby girl and visited my Grandma’s sister. It was fine. She is always pleasant to me. But, I think back on her life, and I hear her stories, and I always leave there grateful that I am my Grandma’s granddaughter and not someone else’s. My Grandma may not be perfect, but she loves her family. There’s never been a doubt that she loved me, or my brothers, or my parents or aunts and uncles, or my cousins. There’s no doubt that she loves my daughter either, or any of her other great-grandkids for that matter. And she loves them and knows them all individually. Now that I have a daughter, I realize how different she is from my own great-grandmother. She’ll do anything for any of her kids, grandkids or great-grandkids. She never thinks about what we can do for her, but rather what she can do to help us. My other Grandma was like that too. It’s only now that I’m older that I realize how rare that is. I’ve written about my Grandma before, but she’s fresh on my mind, her birthday is coming up, and I’m so thankful to have her in my life.