The Oxford Dictionary defines shero as “a woman admired or idealized for her courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities; a heroine.”
I define a shero much more simply…my Grandma.
She passed away just a few days after my last post, making the darkness seem so much thicker. A few weeks ago I was able to spend five days with my sister and last weekend we had my Grandma’s celebration of life with the family. Remembering her has helped.
My Grandma is in most of my childhood memories, from family Thanksgiving celebrations to Fourth of July barbeques. Summer days pretending I could play her organ to knowing she’d taking me clothes shopping for my birthday just before school started so I’d have new school clothes instead of old clothes or hand me downs.
She was at my wedding and welcomed both my kids into the world.
She wasn’t just my shero for what she did for me though, but for who she was.
She was a high school athlete in the 1940s.
She was a young wife and mother, then later a single mom when she and my grandpa divorced.
She was capable of loving again when she married my other Grandpa.
She was active. She walked and took care of herself. She traveled.
Into her eighties, she hopped into her truck or van every September and drove to Iowa, Arkansas and Southern California before coming home at the end of the month. On the driving days she often just slept in her vehicle!
She was a hard worker. She worked as long as I knew her, even through most of her retirement.
She was strong. From the stories I’ve heard from her and other family members, her life wasn’t always easy, but she got through it all and became a strong, independent woman because of it.
She was also wise.
It’s the future now and I wish I would have spent more time with her when I had it.
She was an amazing woman and I hope I can be just a little bit like her.
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