Today I want to talk about someone who was a giant in my life. Not a literal giant like John, more emotionally speaking. I realized yesterday I don't talk about her much because we parted ways during a huge transition in both of our lives so she didn't really leave a hole in my life when she left. Then a few years ago, she died. She was a huge influence in my very formative and confusing years of life. Her name was Mary and she was my adopted Grandma.
Mary adopted our family when I was around 7 and my parents bought her house. She legally adopted my 40-something year old father. I'm not really sure why. I think it had something to do with making the house purchase easier and she was really close with our family. As part of the deal, she lived on a trailer on our property. So throughout my growing up years, I would visit her all the time.
Her door was always open. She was never too busy to talk. Although sometimes she would be on the phone when I came over but I would just sit and wait until she was finished. Sometimes we would play card games. Sometimes we would take walks in the forest. As she got older, we usually would just sit and talk for a few hours. She was really easy to talk to and was very non-judgmental. We had a very similar way of viewing the world. Or maybe I just spent so much time with her that I adopted hers.
Sometimes I feel sad that I can't talk to her now. I want to tell her about all the things that have changed and get her views on being a mother. I feel like she would have a lot of interesting stories about raising her toddlers and sending her kids to kindergarten for the first time. She had 7 children of her own. My dad made 8.
I never called her grandma. I always called her Mary. I realize now it's probably because I thought of her as more of a friend than an authority figure. One of my best friends.
Mary adopted our family when I was around 7 and my parents bought her house. She legally adopted my 40-something year old father. I'm not really sure why. I think it had something to do with making the house purchase easier and she was really close with our family. As part of the deal, she lived on a trailer on our property. So throughout my growing up years, I would visit her all the time.
Her door was always open. She was never too busy to talk. Although sometimes she would be on the phone when I came over but I would just sit and wait until she was finished. Sometimes we would play card games. Sometimes we would take walks in the forest. As she got older, we usually would just sit and talk for a few hours. She was really easy to talk to and was very non-judgmental. We had a very similar way of viewing the world. Or maybe I just spent so much time with her that I adopted hers.
Sometimes I feel sad that I can't talk to her now. I want to tell her about all the things that have changed and get her views on being a mother. I feel like she would have a lot of interesting stories about raising her toddlers and sending her kids to kindergarten for the first time. She had 7 children of her own. My dad made 8.
I never called her grandma. I always called her Mary. I realize now it's probably because I thought of her as more of a friend than an authority figure. One of my best friends.
No comments:
Post a Comment