Feisty

If my paternal grandmother were still alive, she would turn 103 today.

To call my grandmother feisty would be an understatement. When I think about her I smile and shake my head. Grandma R died in 1990 while I was on a business trip in Germany. I did not go back for the funeral, but shortly thereafter and since have regretted that decision.

Grandma R never met my husband, even though we had been dating for about four years when she died. With my grandmother, you had to be very careful about revealing romantic attachments as she was likely, once she heard of them, to get on the phone to various friends and relations and exaggerate. Had I told her of my boyfriend (now husband) other family members likely would have been told I was married and pregnant (and not necessarily in that order) within minutes. But also because I never brought boyfriends to visit, she did ask me point blank (and without a quiver of fear or judgement in her voice), about a year before she died, whether I was “one of those lesbians.” I’m smiling and shaking my head as I write this.

My grandmother was born in Indian Territory in what is now Oklahoma and raised in small town in Texas. I have a tale of visiting that town with my dad many years ago, but I’ll save it for another time. After leaving home and marrying, she lived all over the west. Her first husband abandoned her and her two children, one of whom died from dysentery (my C is named after this uncle), she worked as maid at a (still) fancy resort, married again, gave birth to a child with severe Down’s Syndrome and later watched her die from complications, lost her second husband, gave birth to still another child (my late aunt), worked in the carnival concession business, made fortunes, lost fortunes, bought a town, sold a town, survived breast cancer, was often a guest at that same (still) fancy resort, played favorites, had questionable business dealings, traveled all over the world, meddled in her children’s lives, married and divorced several more times, made and lost more money, meddled in her grandchildren’s lives, and on and on and on.

Life with her around was never boring.

Happy Birthday, Grandma.