Tough as Grandmas

My husband's grandma died today. She was one tough cookie.

Grandma Austin just turned 96 last month. This year would mark 20 years since her husband passed away. After Grandpa's death, she moved off the family farm and into town. Up until this past Thanksgiving, she had been healthy, sharp-minded, living on her own, making cookies and driving. Yes, driving. She was Ms. Independent.

Grandmas are tough that way.

Unfortunately, this winter, doctors discovered cancer. It didn't take long for it to ravage her frail body, infusing it with pain. Jim felt helpless, feeling an emotional pain tied to Grandma's physical discomfort. But he visited her often and we prayed for her more often. Today, Grandma is with her heavenly father and free of pain. We have to be grateful for that.

By coincidence, both of my grandmas outlived their spouses as well and stepped up to the role of independence.

Grandmas are tough that way.

Grandma Hedberg was living in an apartment, making her special cookies and singing Swedish Christmas carols to us when she was 90. Grandma Johnson was waitressing in her 70s and bowling in her 80s. She had to quit when her hips got the best of her, but she could still play cards!

This is a tough group of farm girls who grew up in the Depression era, working the land and taking little time for fun as we know it. As the grandchildren, we know nothing of this type of life, but we certainly admire them and completely respect them for what they became. Tough women. Special grandmas.

If I am lucky enough to live 80 or 90 years in relatively good health, with an active mind and body, surrounded by a loving family of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, I will consider myself quite fortunate. But I doubt I'll ever be as tough as Grandma -- any one of them.