Grandma’s are moms with lots of frosting.
One of my very favourite people in the world is my beautiful grandma, Bernadette. She’s 82 years young, every sweet cliché you can think of, and a rockin’ cool chick to boot. She is a miraculous ball of contradiction who’s always held a very special place in my heart.
I mentioned my grandma a little while back in a tributary Daily Shot for her birthday (here) and though I’d originally planned to do a fuller post about her in the week following, Fate had other plans. My darling Grandma took a hard fall and broke her hip. Everyone collectively held their breath and murmured prayers as well wishes spilled over, in tidal waves, at the hospital. She had her major surgery and made her way, tentatively, toward recovery.
And recover she did! Two weeks after falling, Ms. Bernadette, was discharged and sent home to recuperate fully, get in some hardcore physio and return to her usual glowing, glorious self.
Sadly, the day after she returned home, her eldest son, my Uncle Jim, very suddenly passed away. I posted here about it, briefly (Perhaps They Are Not Stars and There is always hope…) while my family came to grips with what can only be described as a tragic, senseless parting.
As everyone struggled to cope, we all quietly worried how my grandmother – still weakened from her accident – would handle such devastating news. We anxiously waited to see if she would give up on her own recovery, if grief would swallow her whole and break her heart.
It did not.
She came at her son’s death with tremendous sadness, of course, but also with a grace and dignity, beauty and calm that I have never witnessed in such sorrowful circumstances.
My Grandma is a trooper, a true warrior (and tender) heart, part of the reason I love her so fiercely. She’s a big inspiration to me (one of the reasons I wanted to share her with you, dear Reader!) We are kindred spirits, she and I, something I’m proud of. A true testament to those of us who adore and appreciate those people and things that may be worn and “vintage”, but are valued and beautiful beyond measure.
To illustrate my point, I wanted to share a few old pictures of my grandmother that I recently had the pleasure of finding.
I’m ecstatic to report that my Grandmother is getting around (with walker) very nicely at present and back to full strength hugs and spirited shouts of “Saints preserve us!”. How lucky we all are to have her!
Marjory Barslow-Greenbie said, “Beautiful young people are accidents of nature. But beautiful old people are works of art.” Indeed they are!
I love you, Grandma!
P.S. If you love vintage shots like I do, check out the links to past Z & G stuff, below!
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