To start off the weekend the family took Grandma out for dinner to celebrate her 84th birthday. Grandma will tell me of stories of herself as a girl, a teen, or a young mother and wife. I am always in awe of how much she has accomplished, how brave she has been. As a girl, Grandma rode a cow ( yes I said cow!), in her teen years, she would take the train all by herself to visit her cousins in the States. Grandma shared with me that Union Station was one of her favorite places, with the hustle and bustle of people going places, maybe because her father worked for CN, (although I'm not sure what he did, I must ask.)
In love Grandma was also brave. Grandpa was Catholic, and Grandma is Protestant. Regardless of the church's opinion, Grandma and Grandpa kept their chins up and had 60 happy years married.
What I admire most about Grandma, is that she has shown such strength after such devastating loss. In the last 10 years, Grandma has lost her family. Her son, her husband, her daughter.
Think about that for a minute. Think about the faces at your dinner table - all gone.
The faces at my dinner table, my family, are what get me out of bed some days. They give me joy (and grief), but with them, I feel such emotion that it makes me feel alive, human.
Nobody would blame Grandma for being bitter. She is not bitter, sad some days, but not bitter or angry. What is more, she is so thankful for what she does have - and we are so thankful for her.
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