by admin


Grandmothers are wonderful. They are a second mom. My life wouldn’t be the same without the wonderful woman I lovingly called grandma. I don’t know what it was about her that I loved her as much as I did, but I loved her as much as I loved my mother, if not a little bit more.

My grandmother was beautiful to me. I remember as a child, back in the middle 1960s, all of the great times we had because she was my babysitter when my parents worked, so we had many adventures, her, my only sister, and me.

My grandmother had jet-black hair, baby blue eyes and not one wrinkle on her beautiful porcelain skin. She wore red lipstick, which made her more stunning. My grandmother never drove. She got into a bad accident many years before I was born, and was in a body cast for almost forever, according to my mother. Every Thursday, my favorite Aunt Virginia would come over and pick the three of us up. My grandmother, my sister, and myself. What I remember the most, is my Aunt Virginia drove a powder blue 1966 Thunderbird. My grandmother always sat in the front with my Aunt Virginia. The two of them could pass for twins, if they weren’t mother and daughter.

My grandmother would go to my aunt’s house where she would get a home permanent. I still can remember it was a little permanent.

One thing I did learn from my grandmother was learning to cook. I was seven years old and would watch her cook. Every Wednesday she baked homemade bread, rolls, and everything else. The kitchen would smell as if you just stepped into a bakery. When the breads were baking, she and I would play “Go Fish” and she taught me how to play “jacks.”

Thursdays were more fun. Every Thursday afternoon, like clockwork, she would get a knock on the door. It was the Avon woman. Back then the Avon lady wore white gloves, and when she knocked on the door, she said” Avon calling”. While she was ordering her Avon, I would get into her S and H green stamps.

I also loved to help her clean her house, because she had problems getting around, so I stepped up to help her. Now mind you, I am now eight years old and taking on responsibilities of a grown up. I didn’t mind helping her at all. My favorite job to do was clean her bathroom with Comet. Don’t ask me why I loved cleaning her bathroom, I just did.

I am now almost a teenager. My grandmother gave me advice on almost everything. After all, she knows a lot of stuff. She told me don’t ever get into drugs. I never asked her why, I just sat and listened.

My mother never told me my grandmother was ill. Sometimes my grandmother would go on adventures with just my Aunt Virginia, so my sister and I would stay home with my grandfather.

My grandmother never told my mom she was ill. When my mother came over on her days off to help grandma, when she brushed my grandma’s hair, mom would say her hair would fall out in clumps. Then there was that day that my grandfather called my mother at work and asked her to come home. My mother came home and went to my grandma’s bedroom, who shut the door behind so I couldn’t go in with her (my grandma).Then I heard the sounds of a siren. Mom had called for an ambulance. They took my grandma to the hospital. I couldn’t go.

Hours came and went when I was at home with my Uncle Bill and my sister just waiting for my grandmother to come home. My parents and all of my aunts and uncles went to the hospital. The phone rang about midnight, when my uncle answered the phone. His face turned absolutely snow white. I asked him what was wrong. Then, he told me my grandmother passed away. That’s when I told him I didn’t tell her goodbye.

It was hard for me to go to her funeral, but I did. At her funeral, my mother wrapped her arms around me and told me that out of all of the grandchildren, I was her favorite.

It’s been thirty-four years since she went home. I still remember everything about her. I am now forty-seven years old and I am a grandmother myself. I am the grandma of a beautiful four-year-old granddaughter. I hope someday my granddaughter admires me as much as I admired my grandmother. That’s why I think grandmothers are awesome.