Grandmas Are.

She’d had quiet conversations with her daughter-in-law in the months prior, knowing that the cancer was terminal and that meant not being around to see these two little girls grow up. Grandma promised a dying young mother, “They’ll be in good hands. I’ll always take care of them and make sure they’re loved.”

Grandmas… are the backbone when the family falls apart.

She curled up in her recliner with a granddaughter on each side, still smelling of smoke and fried food from the waitressing job she’d been at all evening. She scratched little backs and brushed hair and laughed through Shirley Temple movies over a shared tub of frozen yogurt. She hugged those granddaughters tight and held them close to her heart.

Her home became their home, too. Her kitchen was filled with their favorite meals, her freezer always stocked with the best ice cream bars. Her garage was bursting with bikes and hula hoops and totes filled with dolls. Grandma’s old couch, with that colorful granny square afghan, hosted countless makeover parties and crochet lessons.

Grandmas… bring comfort and consistency when the world feels like chaos.

Her familiar voice answered the phone, like it did every night, with her sleepy drawling “…mmmyello?” She knew her granddaughters would call, like they always did, to ramble on about their days and laugh about the same jokes and ask her to share stories from the past. It was part of their bedtime ritual, after 9 PM when the long-distance calls were free, to dial Grandma’s phone number and eagerly wait to hear her voice on the other end of the line.

Her green minivan turned into their driveway after driving two hours from home, ready to help with whatever was needed. Her loud singing rang out over all the others at the birthday party, that distinctive laugh that let everyone know Grandma was in the room. Her signature poofy hair, wire glasses, and bright red lipstick were always visible in the crowd at the dance recitals and choir concerts, usually hiding behind the Kodak camera. Her wallet contained photos to show off of those she loved most dearly – her two granddaughters, her son, and her ‘bonus son,’ NASCAR driver Jeff Gordon.

Grandmas… are both the core and carriers of the childhood memories.

Her deafening whistle rang out across the park, cheering her heart out after their performance in the town’s fall festival. She never hesitated to show her support, to boast about how proud they made her, or to tell them how special and loved they were. She was never afraid to share her thoughts, both good and bad. A slight shake of the head with a disapproving “tsk, tsk” was all it took to correct any wayward actions. She loved them without condition but pushed them to be strong and resilient in a world determined to break them.

She was the first one they called with exciting news to share. Awards at school, new jobs, first dates, choir solos… Grandma was ready to sing praises over all of the accomplishments and important milestones. When the time came for driving permits, she lent her minivan and her reassuring presence from the passenger seat.

Grandmas… are the cheerleaders and encouragers.

She moves more slowly now, and the granddaughters are fully grown. She still picks up the phone but she mostly listens now. She’s a sounding board for relationship drama, work conflicts, stresses from college, and all the random small talk about their days. The quality of the conversation isn’t what matters; there is value in keeping that connection, despite the distance and the busy lives.

She is still the one I want to share the details of my life with, big and small.

Her voice and her laugh will never be erased from my memories. Her sparkling eyes, tall tales, trademark phrases, and powerful presence will be forever engraved on my heart. She loved me so well and never once made me doubt it. She was more than simply Grandma… she was mentor, role model, and dearest friend.

Grandmas… are the promise keepers and the protectors of little hearts.