My mother’s parents were married on August 8, 1949.
Four years later, in 1953, my mom arrived on the scene.
My grandparents’ greatest gift to me in 1953 was my mom.
I miss my grandparents.
But I feel (and see) their presence all around me every day.
So much of who I am comes from the two of them.
The funniest thing about this picture is that my grandma’s hair is clearly brunette.
She always swore that she was still blonde at their wedding. And my grandpa would laugh at her fib.
Let’s just say that details were not my grandmother’s strong suit.
But she was fiercely protective, resourceful, and determined. I’d like to think that I am those things as well.
My grandfather was sensitive, highly intelligent, and patient. I hope that I’m a few of those things, too.
My grandparents were very different.
My grandfather grew up on a ranch with no running water or electricity. My grandmother grew up in the Heights of Houston and was the daughter of an electrician.
He was church of Christ. She was Methodist.
My grandpa was a rancher who preferred horses and cows to people. My grandma was a teacher who loved people.
He was the oldest (and only boy) of three. She was the youngest (and only girl) of four.
Their greatest gift to me was my mom.
They had their share of conflicts, but they loved each other dearly to the end.
And my grandparents’ greatest gift to me, of course, was my mom.
She was their only child and the perfect combination of her parents.
My mom was determined like her mom and sensitive like her dad.
My grandparents’ greatest gift to me was my mom.
