My Dad’s Mom


My paternal grandmother was a city lady.  She was a beautiful woman with black hair and the darkest black eyes I’ve ever seen.  She lived with our family when I was just a child, but than moved to her own apartment in downtown Milwaukee.  It was on the second floor so we had to ride a rickety old elevator to get to it.  Her apartment faced Wisconsin Avenue and had huge windows that overlooked the city.   Whenever there was a parade or special event many of my  friends would join me to watch it at Grandma’s.  I became instantly popular because of it.

Grandma had an extremely tough life.  She fell in love and married a tailor and they raised 4 children together.  I don’t know much about her husband, because he deserted the family when my dad was just a boy of six.  In those days, there were many hidden things concerning stuff like this.  She returned to her home town with her children and started a new life. After a while she became frustrated with small town life and moved her family to the big city.  It must have been a struggle to bare the shame and humiliation, but she carried on. 

Being a single parent in those days carried a bit of a stigma in those days.  Grandma worked hard to give her family what she could, but it wasn’t enough so her children pitched in to help and all of them started jobs at an early age. 

Being the first grandchild, I was given carte blanche on most anything I wanted.  If she could manage , she would give me my heart’s desire.  If she couldn’t, she would save and save for it.   She was a whiz at making things too.  She loved to sew lovely little dresses and tons of doll clothes. 

She made the best pineapple upside down cake.  Mmm-mmm!  I tried making it once, but it never compared to Grandma’s. She was a beautiful lady, always taking time to look..  I remember her wearing pearls and matching earrings.  She had a little dressing table with all sorts of makeup and perfume – Evening in Paris.  It seemed so elegant.

Grandma didn’t talk much.  She never talked about her past.  She loved me unconditionally.  She spoiled me rotten. as my cousins will attest to.  She always told me that my face would stay that way if I scrunched it up.  She gave the best hugs.  She was strong and stoic sometimes.  She never gave up..

Both of my grandmothers took different paths, but each of them left me with a wonderful heritage.  They both loved God and lived amazing lives.  They had a strong work ethic, a deeply rooted faith, grit and determination.  I believe I have inherited a bit of each of them and I pray that I will be able to leave some of the same things to my own grandchildren.

Happy Mother’s Day, Grandmas!

“One generation shall commend your works to another,
    and shall declare your mighty acts.”


As I reach the end of my years, I find I have a lot of good information stored up in this old decrepit mind of mine. If I don't write it all down, it may vanish and no one will have the advantage of my thoughts. This is why this blog exists. I love the Lord, Jesus with all my heart and soul. I know I'm undeserving of all He's done for me, but I also know that His love is beyond my comprehension. I've always wanted to write. I never kept diaries, but tucked my thoughts in my head for future reference. I use them now in creating stories, plays, poetry and my blog. I continue to learn every day. I believe the compilation of our time spent with God will have huge affect on the way we live. I know I'm a sinner and I need a Savior. I have One through Jesus, Christ. My book, "Stages - a memoir," is about the seven stages of life from the perspective of a woman. It addresses all the things girls and women go through in life as they travel it with Jesus, and it is available on
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