My First Mom.

I think it’s about time I tell you about my mom. I know that earlier this year I posted a wonderful mothers day post about my wonderful mother, but she is not the woman I am talking about. The woman that I am talking about is the woman that everyone else in my family called grandma, but the woman that raised me as her own.

I grew up with both parents. I also had two siblings. That would have been lucky by anyones standards and it was by mine too, but I wasn’t just lucky – I was blessed. I also lived with my grandma. She was a hop, skip and a jump away at all times. And the best part about that is she always was. For the first 13 years of my life my grandma raised me. Obviously my parents had final say and influence, but in my mind and when people ask me I always say that my grandma was my first mom. I do not tell people this to take credit away from my real mom, but I do it so that my angel up in the sky gets all the credit that she truly deserves.

My grandma taught me how to cook, and she taught me how to bake. Most of the time I didn’t actually pay attention, and if I have to be honest my favourite part was eating the raw cookie dough that she always slipped me (even if it was right before dinner), but I spent 13 years shadowing her every movement and I am so happy that some of her skills rubbed off on me.

My grandma is probably one of the main reasons that I have a creative voice today. As soon as I was old enough to talk she always kept a notepad near by. I was constantly making her write down all the ideas in my head – and she always did. She never once told me that she was too busy, or that what I was saying wasn’t important – instead she dropped whatever she was doing and wrote down whatever my bossy little voice said. She encouraged me to be creative and she did this by never ever shutting me down.

My grandma showed me how to stand up for myself. Majority of my childhood I spent holding onto her hand, but there were a few occasions when I ventured out to bug my siblings. Most of these playdates ended up with me running back behind my grandmas leg, my brother chasing me, and my grandma ready with a fly swatter ready to defend my honour (PS. I am sorry Dar, most of the time I was being a brat and probably deserved the beating that you were going to give me – but I don’t think you ever got a chance).

My grandma showed me how to be tough. She suffered through illnesses that still bring tears to my eyes. She was in so much pain every single day near the end and yet she continued to push through and live her life. There’s a saying in my family that is, “we come from tough stock” and my grandma showed me just how true that was. She never let her illness or her suffering define her life, she never let it win, she constantly showed me how to be tougher then things you can’t control.

My grandma showed me how to be selfless. She put her family before herself every single time. She used to knit bookworms and teddy bears for sick children. She was always donating and volunteering at church events and my schools. She cooked dinner for my entire family every night, and did all of our laundry. Honestly, when I look back, I don’t remember a single thing my grandma did for herself, but I know how much she did for everyone else.

I don’t have the words to tell you guys how wonderful this woman was. But I can tell you that she guided and shaped me into the woman I am today. She has been gone for almost 6 years and I still miss her just as much to this very day.

If I have to be honest with all of you faithful readers this post has been sitting in my drafts for months. I can’t bring myself to post it because it never feels complete. For some reason, no matter how hard I try, I can’t capture the words to tell the world about her.

She was my best friend. She is still the person that I turn to when the rest of the world becomes to much. Earlier I wrote a post about whether or not I believe in God – but I have to believe in something if I believe my grandma is still watching over me – which she is.

There are moments in your life that you will never forget. There are also people who have this effect. My grandma had this effect on every life that she touched.

Most days if I have to be honest, I feel like I was brutally robbed of the most important women I have ever had in my life.


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