What do you remember about your grandma?  Was it her toothless smile or her sagging body?  Was it the many lines in her face and the way the skin on her arms jiggled and flapped?  Was it the cookies she baked or the time she took to listen to you?  Was it the slowness of her pace as she tried to keep up with you?  Was it her endless energy or positive outlook?

My grandmas were two completely different women, but each holds a special place in my heart.  I have fond memories of both of them.  One was a farm woman, with strength in those floppy arms that I can’t begin to imitate.  She wasn’t just physically strong, but her ability to get through times of adversity was more than admirable.  She lost five of her eight children during her own lifetime.  She also cared for her stroke ridden husband for several years.  She died at the age of 76.  Her body just couldn’t live any longer.

My other grandma was a city woman.  She liked getting dressed up.  She taught me how to do crafts with her somewhat arthritic hands.  Her eyes were dark brown and she hardly ever showed her true emotion, but I knew she loved me just the same.  This grandma raised her four children on her own after her husband abandoned them.  She lived well into her nineties.

When I became a grandmother it was like getting a second chance at parenting.  When we actually go through the process of raising our own children, we make huge mistakes along the way.  We don’t always fit the mold.  We might leave permanent scars that will live with our kids for the rest of their lives.  We can’t go back and undo those things, but through our grandchildren, God gives us a way to repair some of the hurt we may have inflicted as parent.  He allows us the time we didn’t have because we were just trying to get everything else done.

Our grandchildren are a gift from God.  They look up to us.  They are interested in what we have to say (at least until they turn into an adolescent.)  They love to hear about our past.  They enjoy being with you most of the time.  We are the role models that they will eventually mimic.

We may not all be gorgeous on the outside.  Our hair is turning gray and our bodies have lost most of their elasticity.  We don’t think as fast as we used to or hear every word, but we sure can give them something to laugh about.  So to all you grannies out there, Happy Gorgeous Grandma Day to all of you.  You are a blessing to your grandchildren as much as they are to you.





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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  1. hatrack4 says:

    Is not Gorgeous Grannie Day every day?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Paul Ponnion says:

    I didn’t know there is such a day!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I remember both of my grandmothers and two of my great-grandmothers. One great-grandmother had a very large hunch back, a big nose, and big ears. When I was around five or six, she told me that I looked just like she did when she was a little girl. I was horrified! I wondered if that meant I was going to have a large hunch back and a big nose and big ears, when I grew up!

    My favorite great-grandmother was nicknamed Dollie. She was the best grandmother of all. She always had fresh homemade cookies for me, along with a tall glass of milk. We went to church with her once, and I still remember how joyfully she sang. She may have been old, but she was beautiful.

    I have three adult grandchildren and one great-grandson. He is seven. Because of distance and money issues, I did not get to meet him until he was six. I was told that after he went back to California, he told my son: “Grandpa, I met your mom! Her name is Mammy!”. 😀 ❤

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  4. I was blessed with having both of my grandmothers living in my childhood city back in Montana. My paternal grandmother was older, grew up in Nebraska in a did house, and taught at a country school. She met my grandfather when he was on a troop train heading for Europe near the end of World War I. My maternal grandmother grew up in Ohio, and she married her childhood sweetheart. A job for my grandfather brought them to Montana during the Great Depression.

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