A Story Worth Sharing

They ran away together, only a few months after dating.
The daughter of a farm hand and his wife who loved dancing and dusty road sundaes, lipstick and ivory soap.
She had no idea what her life would hold.
She loved him, that she knew.
Wearing a teal green suit, one that sits in her closet still, she transformed from Miss to Misses over night.
She said yes.
The small ring she chose on her finger.
No white wedding,
No formal dress,
No bouquet to toss,
No reception to celebrate.
The photo ran in the paper, their arms intertwined and their smiles wide.
They purchased the row house on a one way street near a cemetery. He persuaded her that he could make it a home, confident in his abilities.
Life was not always easy.
Walls came down, creating a more open family room in time to welcome a family. Three daughters then three sons, motherhood her job.
Maintaining a home, maintaining a family, maintaining her husband, she continued on.
Life was not always easy.
He continued to build and transform the house; the kitchen, a bedroom, the basement, and a sun room.
Work for him was constant, but money was tight.
His addictions, a curse.
Life was not always easy.
She continued on, six children to mind.
As they grew up, their successes her success:
Graduations, Marriages, Jobs, Grandchildren.
He finally cleaned up his ways, giving her more breathing room.
Their marriage survived the abuse and misuse.
Life was not always easy.
He got sick and she was there, by his side.
Doctors, ambulances, hospitals,
Repeat, Repeat, Repeat.
With his passing, mourning then a rebirth.
A new independent woman.
Strong, a leader, volunteering and venturing out with friends.
Bus trips, morning coffee at McDonalds, morning mass, and volunteering at a consignment shop.
Her life continues,
Welcoming more grandchildren and great grandchildren.
Having lunch with friends.
Daily phone calls with her children.
Selling the house, she bravely downsizes to an apartment,
"The attic" as it is affectionately called.
The photos remain on the wall,
As this new place becomes her home.
The matriarch
My Mom-Mom. 


I'm linking up with Mama Kat. Of her choices this week, Your Grandma’s story immediately struck a chord for me. I hope if she (my grandmom) reads this, she feels I have done her justice. I wrote about her previously in a post entitled Blue Glass & Ivory Soap.