Each new baby I had and brought to met my grandmother, for some reason I was surprised all over again to rediscover she was a bit of a baby hog. And there are oh so many pictures of her holding and smiling down on her grandchildren. Her obituary said she had 117 grandchildren, including the greats. 66 grandchildren and 51 great grandchildren.
She told me how she loved us. That every day she prayed for her children, her grandchildren, and her great grandchildren. That she was thankful and grateful. I honestly can't remember her saying anything bad about anyone. She changed the direction of conversations if they steered towards gossip. She was optimistic even in hard times.
She handmade rosaries from wooden beads she got from taking apart seat covers. The earliest versions held together with baling twine. They are made to last, and I have 7 around my house.
When I was little I was proud to have a pirate Grandmother. I'm not sure how old I was to realize that eye patch does not equate pirate. I loved hearing her stories. I never left her house feeling worse than when I came, always better and more at peace.
She discribed herself as being spoiled and managing to get her way a lot. She could have also been described as being capable of being stubborn. She did what she set her mind to do. She grew beautiful plants, flowers, and gardens. Her library was filled with stories of the Saints. She giggled and stayed up late laughing and talking with her sister like they were still kids themselves.
She was devout and had a strong deep faith. Her homes were always so fun to explore. There was generally a puzzle you sit down in front of and help work on. She had a photogenic memory, and could share so many things. And I loved her very much.
