Our Grandmas Weren’t Whiners

July 9, 2009

This was my grandmother, my dad’s mom. She was a character and a half (in case you can’t tell). This is the same woman who led me to believe I was the Goddess of the Universe… until I found out she was schizophrenic, and also thought aliens were after her. It’s alright though; these things happen to the best and toughest among us, and she was certainly that.

My grandmother had six children, and endured all sorts of personal traumas in her life. Even in the best of times, life wasn’t easy “back in the day” in Liberia, Costa Rica. Things we take for granted now were a major ordeal when she was coming up.

For instance, the fifty minute drive to the beach used to be a day-long journey on horseback, with ox carts carrying provisions for the entire family to spend a few days sleeping under an awning on the sand. But they did it; they did whatever it took to get where they wanted to go.

I once read in her journal that she used to look forward to going to the dentist more than anything in the world. Do you know why? Because her days started around 4:30 am, and ended around midnight, and she spent almost the entire time on her feet, working. Getting to sit in a dentist’s chair for 30 minutes was like spending a day at the spa for her.

She wasn’t the only strong one.

Jeff and I were talking about this not long ago, and he told me his gran’momma was the same way. She lived in rural Alabama, and had a huge garden to tend to. This wasn’t the sort of garden like the ones we keep today, with a couple of tomato plants, some bell peppers, and an herb or two. No, hers was the sort of garden that feeds the whole family for the entire year.

That meant Gran’momma and several “helpers”, including Jeff, had work to do pretty much all the time. They had to prepare the soil, plant the seeds, water, pull weeds, pick fruits and vegetables, remove garden pests (by hand), then prepare the crops for storage. That was quite a process!

Jeff told me all about his days of shelling peas, shucking corn, and snapping string beans into five-gallon buckets. After picking bushels of apples, they washed them by dunking them in buckets of progressively cleaner water, peeled and sliced them, then set them out to cure in the sun. All sorts of things had to be canned and jarred for the winter. And when the kids got done with their chores, Gran’momma headed to the kitchen to prepare those huge Southern meals. It was tough, but she did it.

From what I understand, lots of grandmothers were like this… maybe yours, too. They were hard-working, dedicated, capable, and strong. They endured more challenges than we can possibly imagine, and they bore their burdens (mostly) without complaint.

I don’t know about your gran’momma, but mine was not a whiner. She could take whatever life threw her way. When I grow up, I’d like to be just like her… except for the part about the aliens. (If I have to deal with aliens coming after me, I’ll probably complain.)

What about you? Are you part of this new breed of whiners? Or are you the sort who gets things done without complaint?

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Posted in about me, acceptance, bad habits, choices, family