I love this woman.
Whether she lives only 1 more day or 20 more years, I will love her until I take my last breath. She is technically Allen's and John's grandmother but she has been "Grandma Vera" to more people than I can imagine.
The first time I met Grandma Vera I was barely 21 and she was the absolutely hilarious, mouthing at everything, colorful 82 year old grandmother of my boyfriend. I showed up at her farm, where Allen was spending the week, wearing Ralph Lauren jeans and pearls. She had on at least 8 different colors in 6 layers of clothes, all topped off with a ball cap. She drove me around her farm telling me stories of when Allen was a kid and about who was born and died where. She had a story for every single grain of dirt on that farm and I was blown away that anyone still "worked cattle". I think I loved her before I even realized I was falling in love with Allen. She has been, since day 1, my hero.
She has never seen the ocean. She has never flown in an airplane. Well, she went up in a crop duster once and that pretty much ruined her from ever flying again. She never traveled the world. She never worked in a high paying or glamorous job. She was born the daughter of a farmer; married a farmer; is now the mother of a (part-time) farmer. She knows farming. She knows real. She knows life.
She taught me that it's ok not to look perfect all the time, that girls were meant to get dirty, and that there is great pleasure in simple things. She has been a mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, wife, daughter, and friend to many. She touches lives everywhere and no matter what, you will always find her smiling or enjoying simple pleasures like watching her great-grandchildren play or eating a piece of fudge. Her house isn't clean and her fridge will always be littered with 6 open bottles of ketchup, each containing exactly 1/2 ounce of ketchup. She saves every bite of leftover food and you will often find a coffee cup containing 6 green beans and 3 kernels of corn in her fridge. She wants for nothing. She has family. And no matter what happens or where you go or what you do, she's always at "the farm", waiting on togetherness.
Sure, she's become a little "cantankerous" in her old age but seriously, who wouldn't be? She's 94. She hurts a lot. She's seen it all. And she's lived through even more.
When Allen and I were visiting her one weekend, maybe even back before we were married and definitely before we have children, she mentioned that she hated using a plastic dish as a sugar bowl. She wanted an "old timey" glass sugar bowl with a lid. We went to K-Mart and bought her a glass sugar dish that probably cost all of $5. She bragged on that sugar dish for months and still uses it, 12 years later. Simple. Joyful.
I knew from very early on in my life with Allen's family that Grandma Vera's first son, Charles, had died fairly soon after birth. I knew the story and the details but no one talked about Charles and that was that. Period. After Jack died, she called us at home and told me about Charles. She talked about losing a baby and what it does to a person and...well, things that are between me and her and that only mothers of a deceased child can understand. Allen and I went to visit her a few weeks later and we stopped at the cemetery on our way into town. I hate cemeteries. I always have. Still, we felt some compulsion to go find Charles' headstone. When we did, we both noticed immediately that he died on October 27--the same day as Jack.
Grandma Vera also inspired Adam's name. When I was pregnant with Adam she told us a story about how Allen's grandfather, her deceased husband, received the middle name "Adam". His parents lost the child before him and were told that if they named their next born child either Adam or Eve, that the child would be promised a long and healthy life. And so Allen's grandfather's parents named him Carlos Adam Rogers. And, we named our second child Adam.
Now, I get to watch her smiling as Adam and Braeden play near her. I have watched her hold all three of our babies. I have watched her cry with us over Jack. I have watched her take great joy in watching Adam learn to walk and run and to write his own name. I love watching her enjoy Braeden's mischievous personality. I love watching her act like she doesn't enjoy being fussed over and knowing that every woman (even an old farm lady) enjoys luxuries sometimes. I love watching her fall asleep in her chair then swear that she wasn't sleeping. I love that she still wears clothes from 1972. I love that she knows how to fry squash and that she makes the best fried chicken on earth. I love that she helped raise Allen into who he is today and because those virtues might just seep into my own children. I love knowing that every wrinkle and gray hair means that she has lived, really lived.
I used to think that beauty was 6' tall, 120 pounds, long blond hair, wearing designer clothes. Now I know it is 94 years old, wrinkled and gray from the joys and trials of life, content, non-judgemental, and appreciative. Beauty is Grandma Vera.
Jessica - that was an awesome post. Thank you for sharing. Y'all are blessed to have such an amazing woman in your lives.
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