Strong, feisty woman
Monday, August 17, 2009 at 02:29AM Having a grandparent as an adult has something so sweet about it.
The days where you were spoiled with new skis under the Christmas tree are gone, as are the congratulations you received at school concerts and the cheers at weekend swim meets.
The relationship evolves as you begin to converse as equals, about jobs, politics, good books and relationships. As an adult, you become fully aware of how much that grandparent supports you and how much they enjoy hearing about how your life is turning out.
My Nana wasn’t my blood grandmother, but I always felt like she was. She married my grandfather, my mom’s father, when I was about four-years-old. My family grew in size as a result of that marriage. It grew to include uncles and aunts and cousins who wouldn’t be my family today if it weren’t for that marriage.
When my grandfather died in 2001, and the cousins started to spread out, some to work abroad and others to attend university, she became the matriarch and social organizer of the large group, ensuring we saw each other at Christmas and exchanged email addresses.
She read my newspaper stories with a critical eye, quick to voice her opinion, ask questions and encourage me to do better.
I’ve encountered many strong women in my life. My mother, my sister, teachers and friends. My Nana was one of those strong women: feisty, engaged, independent and intelligent.
Any time I came to her, to tell her of my quickly hatched plan to take a new job, go back to school or leave the country, she supported it without hesitation. Sometimes she’d just smile and say, “That’s marvelous.”
She listened well and didn’t take sides. Her presence made me sit up straight and always do my best. She was often blunt in her approach and very rarely showed any vulnerability or emotion, making her very different from me and my own mother.
But you really learn the most from those most different from you.
You didn’t mess with her, and I liked that so much.
Seeing people die is something I truly hate about getting older. I don’t have any grandparents left. I was so lucky to have started out with four and was even luckier to know my Nana until the age of 25. But that doesn’t make it any easier to say goodbye, especially when I’m halfway across the world.
Reader Comments (5)