For the record, my Grandmother, or as I call her “Granny”, was an old-fashioned farm girl. She was born in an age when folks like her, scraped and struggled to make a good life for their families and themselves. She didn’t come from a family of privilege. That’s not bad, it simply wasn’t her. She knew how to make a little money stretch for a long time. She never worked outside the itinerant farm worker house she lived in for most of her life. She cooked and cleaned and made sure my Grandfather and all their children (and many others) were nurtured to the best of her ability. She actually did her laundry in an old iron pot outside, made her own soap, made everything the family consumed (food and clothing) from scratch, and did this for decades. Between her brood and the children from my Grandfather’s first wife (She died shortly after the birth of their last child) she “raised” more than 13 children. For those that don’t know, we are “raised” here in the south. Adversity and constant chaos filled her life, but she overcame them all and never let it make her angry or bitter. She was kind and sincere, she had a sweet but strong voice, she was a Woman of Faith, and she definitely personified the ideal of perseverance. Thats a little about her.

This week, I’ve been thinking about her. My work centers on people just like her. I am privileged to be in a place to care for and support our forgotten generation. They definitely make my life a little better. I learn from them and try to embody a little of what I learn as a walk my own life path. With that all said, here is one peculiar thing that crossed my mind this week. I AM my Grandmother, in some sense. I try to live an honest and genuine life, filled with an outpouring of what and who I am, with the hope that I might be able to help my fellow human as they walk their own life path. Whether you agree or not with my description of me, I’m sure you have some of the same thoughts and ideals (on some level). Also, I see myself doing some of the same things my Grandmother did. That’s the peculiar thing I’ve been reflecting on… I hoard nice boxes and plastic containers. I can’t seem to discard any clothing or other fabric for fear I may be able to use it later. My Grandmother sewed quilts throughout her life. I have a few to remember her by. I can’t seem to toss out day-old food. In my home, we use it up. We don’t waste and we try to respect the thing for what it is. Food and clothing costs money (It seems to be more and more costly these days), and we never know if we can afford those things later on…. AND….. I find that I have a strong desire to nurture others. That was what my Granny did. Perhaps that’s a response to my own needs, perhaps not. Does anyone have any thoughts on this?

So, as I continue on my journey, I choose to embrace all things Granny. At least, the things I have intimate knowledge of. Granny was a good old farm girl. She never desired to be a role model, but here I am, looking to her and my memory of her for guidance. Shes’ been gone for more than 44 years, but I still have vibrant memories of her. I’m sure she would be pleased that her life work and the person she was lives, just a little, in me.

I hope you have a Granny figure you can lean into for answers to life questions. Grannies are inherently good people, from my own experience. Listen to them, I promise you they won’t lead you astray. I hope you have a good day. If she’s around, please tell your Granny that you love and appreciate her. She deserves it.