My grandmothers

Both of my grandmothers were born in the month of November. This year is the first of my life that I won’t be sending either of them a birthday card. But even though they are both gone now, my grandmothers have influenced me in ways that I notice nearly every day.

                         

Not a lot was expected of either of them. They were of a generation and social class that destined them for the hard work of keeping house and raising children. While I know many women who have chosen that path now, the key difference is the fact that they’ve chosen to be stay at home moms. Well, that and they have dishwashers and washing machines. My grandmothers raised 11 children between them with neither.

I often wonder what they made of their errant granddaughter who traveled the world when they rarely even left the county of the their birth. Who fought for the best education she could get when they hadn’t finished middle school. Who has always been determined to do things her own way.

I hope they were proud. And, if I could, I’d tell them what I saw when I looked at them.  I saw women of immense strength and fortitude. Neither of them had easy lives. As children of the Depression, they knew want. But they also knew resourcefulness. They also knew how to get up and keep going when all else seems hopeless.

They knew how to laugh. Sometimes, life overwhelmed them like it does all of us, but both women had a delightful (and often subversive) sense of humor that I’ve inherited. Inherited and expanded upon, truth be told.

I learned loyalty from them. Families are never perfect and mine is as messed up as anybody’s. But my Grandma Dow especially was very good at loving the person, even as she disapproved of their actions.