After re-reading my last entry I realized that I didn’t mention anything about my dad’s family.
My dad is one of 8 kids. (I’ll take this opportunity to shout out to all my aunts & uncles – who don’t read this blog but that’s beside the point – David, Anne, Ellen, Peggy, John, Mark and Matthew – and all the kids that go with them – a list way too long to try to remember and I don’t want to leave anyone out so I’m not naming names). Anyway…back to the point. Of those 8, 5 are adopted. I think that’s amazing.
I never really “knew” my grandmother. I have one outrageously amazing Granny and I never felt like I was missing out on not having a relationship with the “other grandmother.” In fact, I didn’t really like her. Don’t get me wrong – I loved her because she was family and she adored me. But as a person, I didn’t really “like” her.
I should have. She opened her home to kids who didn’t have families. She took them in and she loved them all equally. She must have been a great mom because my dad is a GREAT person. In all the stories I’ve heard about her there’s never been one about how she beat one of them or berated one or even yelled at them. I don’t think I ever heard her raise her voice. Maybe she was just too tired…there’s days I can’t cope with one more whine, much less 5 more kids full of whines.
On the day I was born, she was waiting by the phone for the call about my arrival. Instead, she was called by her dear friend. There was a baby who had no home. On the day she was waiting for her 3rd grandchild to be born, she adopted her 8th and last son, Matthew. He’s a day older than I am. Can you imagine having a baby the same age as your 3rd grandbaby?? She did it.
My grandmother passed away a couple of years ago. I will never have the opportunity to know her like I now wish I did. I will never hear her stories. I will never receive her wisdom. And that’s sad.
But I’m so lucky, still. My Granny is one of my best friends. If there’s anyone in this world who understands the feelings I’ve gone through on my journey through trying to get pregnant all the way to where I am now, acknowledging that I will never again feel a baby move inside me – it’s Granny. She went through it all before me. The only time I’ve ever seen her cry is when she talks about not having more kids. She still cries about that. Maybe I will at her age – I don’t know – but I know that if I do, it will be a comfort to me to know that I’m not the only one who’s ever felt that way. I can talk to her about things that I don’t always feel comfortable talking about with my mom (who’s also my best friend). I can talk to her about things others don’t understand because they haven’t been through them. But she has. She’s been through more than I can ever imagine – but the point is, she made it through them. And she made it through to become an awesome person. She’s one of the two most amazing women I know. And I’m so blessed to have her. My life certainly would have suffered without her hand in it. And now she shares herself with my children. They adore her as much as I do. They cry out for her when they’re sad. They want to call her when they’re excited. We all love her and are better for knowing her.
I wonder how the rest of the women in this world get through the days without her. Because I’m not sure I ever could have.
Now I’m crying (and I don’t cry). So I should go before the sappy gets any thicker. Thanks for reading.