Thank God For Grandma

I get the impression that many people, if pressed, would rather sleep outside in a cardboard box than live with their parents again. I'm not most people, however, and I absolutely love that my mother is a part of our household.

Simply put, she is a fantastic woman. She grew up in a tiny town south of Atlanta, Georgia in a traditionally Southern patriarchal family. Her father would not allow her to wear Bermuda shorts or go see Elvis Presley movies because they were "lewd". Think on that, you younger ladies, when you complain that your parents are too strict about the tattoos and piercings!

When she was eighteen she met my father, a boy from Kansas. He was in telecommunications and spent most of his time on the road, traveling from town to town setting up telephone exchanges. He basically lived in his car, from what I gather. I can imagine what my grandpa had to say about my mother dating him. When his assignment was up, Dad asked her to marry him and she had to make a difficult choice; saying yes was scary. It meant leaving the comfort of her large extended family and friends. But saying no was .... unimaginable. My mother is a brave person and I am happy to say they eloped and immediately left for New York City.

During the next fifteen years my parents lived all over the US and spent five years in Puerto Rico. She dined at the Rainbow Room and saw the Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall in New York. She learned to read and speak Spanish and got a job working for the San Juan Star. She learned how to cook cacciatore from real Italians in Pennsylvania, and how to get maple syrup from a tree in Vermont. She ate Rocky Mountain Oysters at a ranch in Texas, beignets in the French Quarter in New Orleans, and mahi mahi at Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco. She went down the Grand Canyon on a donkey and once physically dragged her little girl kicking and screaming across the Mile High Swinging Bridge at Grandfather Mountain just to prove to the sniveling child that it was safe.

In my forty-two years of knowing her, I have never once heard her say anything rascist, homophobic or generally nasty about anyone. She worked for the State of NC for 30 years, staying in the same department, because it meant she could be home at 4.00pm every day. She would come home from a hard day's work, help me with homework, drive me to whatever hobby I was into at the time, come back, clean the house and cook dinner for me and dad.

When she finally had the chance to retire and live peacefully alone, she instead chose to sell her house and buy one with me and my family instead.

Wow. What a top notch role-model, and what big shoes to fill!

Now she voluntarily lives in madness and chaos. She looks after The Boy when I'm at work, braids The Princess' hair on demand, cleans and cooks if necessary, and is one of my best friends. I can't imagine where I would be without her. Probably living in a cardboard box.

She is truly the rock which our family rests on and I thank God every day that she is with us.