Today, grandmas have changed quite a bit.  Most of them still work well into their sixties and beyond.  Although most grandmas from the old days, worked hard right up until their dying days as well.  They didn’t have cleaning ladies or people who would bring meals to their door.  They continued cooking, washing windows and scrubbing floors and toilets, even though their aging bodies had long since lost the battle. Last week I honored my maternal grandmother. Today I’ll introduce you to my paternal grandmother.

She was a city girl for most of her life. Grew up in the small town of Antigo, WI, but married a fellow who moved her to Saskatchewan where she birthed four children. My dad was one of them. Her life was apparently uneventful until my dad was a mere child of six. At that point, their father abandoned them. Whenever asked about him, she never uttered a word, but there was some speculation. One thought was that he was deeply in debt from gambling and skipped town to get away from those he owed. Another idea surfaced that he was murdered by his debtor. There is no record of what happened. It remains a secret. Apparently, he was a handsome fellow of Irish/English descent. I wish I knew more about him.

Grandma was left with four children to raise on her own in a country where she felt no real connection. She returned to Antigo to live with her parents and her kiddos. Eventually, she decided to go to the big city of Milwaukee to get a job to support her children. She left the kids with their grandparents and made the train trip to begin her new journey. The children would go their separate ways after high school, but they remained a closely knit family.

The second world war afforded her the opportunity to go to work on an assembly line at a factory. She would send most of her paycheck home to her mom and dad to support the children. Because she was a beautiful woman, she had no problem making male friends. She never remarried but often had a boyfriend or two. I can imagine her working away in that factory. This really was a time when women were able to take over some of the jobs left behind by men who were fighting overseas. She remained close to her children and eventually my dad and his new wife moved to Milwaukee when they got married. I think my dad felt it his duty to make sure that his mother was safe.

I was her first grandchild. Of course, I was spoiled for a year or so, until more grands came into the world. I’d often visit my paternal grandma after working my part time job in a downtown department store.  She lived i on Wisconsin Avenue. It had huge windows that overlooked the busy streets below. I loved getting into the rickety old elevator and praying that I’d make it to the third floor.  The inside of her building reminded me of Tammany Hall in the movie Gangs of New York.  It was indeed scary, but as soon as grandma opened the door to her apartment, the most amazing smells emanated out into the grungy hallway, inviting me in.  Once inside, I was greeted with some wonderfully, fresh baked item and would sit on the handmade Afghan laden couch and we’d visit – just talk for a while – and it was wonderful.  This grandma worked right up to her retirement, and found joy in her remaining years, away from the sounds of the city to place up north.  There was still nothing like her downtown apartment though. She lived into her nineties. Her beautiful, dark brown eyes couldn’t see anymore. She passed away quietly surrounded by one of her daughters and left an indelible mark on those she left behind.

Today some grandmas treat themselves to fun vacations or go to the spa and receive complete pampering. Not to mention Botox injections and other things to make them look younger. We have access to better health care.  We can go to the gym, if we decide to.  Yet, when you get right down to it, we’re still grandmas.  We love our grandchildren and would do just about anything for them.  We will always have our arms open for hugs and even if those arms wobble, they’re full of love.