Today my great grandmother turns 100 years old.
My father’s mother’s mother was born on April 3, 1909. She worked in New York City during the Depression and shared a tiny apartment with five other girls. She married her father’s much younger cousin and never had to change her name. My great grandfather was a soap salesman and they spent the first 9 months of their marriage driving around Iowa in a panel truck. She was convinced the car fumes made her nauseous but soon discovered that she had something called “morning sickness”.
When she went into labor (with the help of Castor oil, the inducement of the day), she had no idea she was carrying twins. She felt huge during her pregnancy, but then, who doesn’t? Two healthy girls were born – my grandmother and my great aunt. She spent two weeks in the hospital because the doctors were afraid a blood clot might make its way to her heart.
She’s the matriarch of our family and is the proud mother of two, proud grandmother of seven, and proud great-grandmother of 18. Until just a few years ago she routinely played 18 holes of golf – one for each of us.
She always has the perfect shade of lipstick and could be a host of “What Not to Wear.” She’s a stylish lady with impeccable taste. I’ve inherited my height, shoe size, and wedding china (that is older than even she is) from her.
I’m blessed to be her great-granddaughter and have learned much from her life.
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You were expecting a post on speeches, right? Wasn’t that more interesting? Part II on Monday.
