I want to spend a little time talking about my grandmothers. This is inspired by Tara Mohr and her request for people to talk about the power of grandmothers.
I truly believe that both of my grandmothers shaped who I am today. As my parents were young when I was born, my grandmothers were young as well. My paternal grandmother, Alice, deeply shaped me when I was young and coming of age. She was the most incredible, beautiful, smart, radical person that I knew. She was putting herself through college when I was in middle/high school, majoring in women's studies. She worked and spent a lot of time on a college campus. She lived in a hip, urban neighborhood. She seemed indomitable.
Here is a photo of us in downtown Seattle when I was in middle school. Easter 1982. Check out her amazing leather jacket!
During the years that I was struggling with my relationship with my mother, my grandmother was my confidant and safe place. There was nothing I couldn't say to her, and nothing that she couldn't help me with. She seemed to know so much about life, people, and how to deal with complex issues. I could stay at her apartment in the city and go to see a concert, she would take me shopping and let me buy things that I loved, even if they weren't always the most appropriate. She was always proud of me and would show her love for me in a million overt ways.
I actually asked to move and live with Alice; I was so struggling with my mother and hated where I lived. At that time my grandmother seemed like the only person in the world who understood me. I don't know that I would have made it through some of those years without her.
For such a strong, independent person, Alice died young after a aggressive and debilitating battle with Parkinson's Disease. Somehow, after the diagnosis she just gave up. It was one of the most awful things that I have ever watched. The person who had been strong for so long just gave up. She died in 2001 and I miss her, and the person she was through most of my life, every day.
My maternal grandmother Tricia was a very different type of person. She was formal, traditional and hard to hug. However, she too impacted my life dramatically. She had fiercely high standards for behavior and grammar and shared my love for reading. After my grandfather died in 1985 I really came to know Tricia better. She moved closer and was involved more in my daily life.
My mother struggled in her relationship with Tricia, but as the granddaughter I had a totally different experience. I loved her, wanted to make her proud and found her quirks endearing rather than annoying. While she was not the most emotionally demonstrative person, I knew she loved me and I was confident in our relationship. I loved to hear her tell stories of her years growing up in Seattle, the escapades she had with my grandfather.
My relationship grew through my adulthood, and she got to know my husband and the grown up I was becoming. In a very different way she was also fiercely independent and radical, it just looked different. In her older age she did what she wanted, said what she wanted, and wore her white bikini whenever she wanted. She didn't seem to care about what other people thought and she continued to be curious about life and the world around her. I treasure all of the time we got to have in my adult life.
Unlike Alice, Tricia fought her weakening body and lived longer than anyone expected while battling congestive heart failure. There were lots of hospital stays and dire warnings. In the end she died at home with her family in 2009.
Here is one of my favorite photos of Tricia, Easter 2008.
If you would like to participate in this grandmother project, check out this post and join in!
Finally, here is a scrapbook page I created a couple years ago to honor these two women.
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