Looking back and thinking forward

So I think, from the clothing, that I was about 16 in this picture. That would have made it roughly 1987 or 1988. That's me on the left, and then my brother Mark on the right, and my grandmother in between us. Grandmother (because that's what we always called her) was my dad's mom. I'm closer to her age now than it really strikes me to think about, but if you look at a current pic of me and then look at her... well, the resemblance is pretty clear, allowing for purple hair and everything.

With my exams finished finally and all the good stuff going on in my life right now, I find myself thinking of her often. I admired her greatly -- she taught me a lot about crafting and being a pretty cool and creative person. She was a painter and a pretty darn good one at that. I have her art on my walls here, and I'd take more of it once I have a good place to hang it. My dad loved his mom, but their relationship was a lot more conflicted -- he wasn't wrong, and she wasn't perfect, and I had the luxury of knowing here when she was older and wiser and a grandmother rather than a young, poor woman with a temper who had three boys in four years of each other and a husband who was always out on the road, selling. And I'll leave it at that. That said... she was awesome to me, and I never saw her lose her temper once at her grandkids, and there were a lot of us, and we were not always in the best behavior.

But anyway. So yeah. I think she'd be proud of me. I think I look more like her than I realized. She contributed so much to making me feel special and loved and worthwhile, even though I was different and a bit odd. I still miss her, and even as I finish up my Ph D and move on into work, I find that one of the things I judge the world by is "Would Grandmother think this is cool?" And if the answer is yes, then on we go. She hasn't steered me wrong yet.


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