"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body. But rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, wine in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming “WOO HOO what a ride!"
They say the best stories come from real life. The other
night I had an idea. Thinking back on my 24 years, I remembered people who had
made a marked difference in my life. Who helped to mold me into the person that
I am today. After all without this person I would not exist. Allow me to share
with you my memories of my Great-Grandma Mary B. Blahnik.
I always felt very privileged to share the same birthday as
my Great-Grandma (April 28). GG, had a way of making you feel special, which
was saying a lot, at her passing, the number of her grandchildren and
great-grandchildren was well over fifty. So yes, I come from a very large
family.
GG, lived in the rural countryside, near Spring Valley
Minnesota. She owned a very large and very old farm. Going there was like
taking a giant step back in time. The house in which she lived was big and
white, surrounded by large red barns and deep woods. About a mile or so from
her house was a limestone quarry, where we would walk and collect agates. When
summer rolled around we would go to the A&W Root beer stand. If you brought
your own jugs, they would fill them up from the tap. This was quite a treat.
In the spring, GG's yard was smothered in Blue Bells (which
my brother Jordan would always try to "transplant" somewhere else in
GG's yard, as if she didn't have enough Blue Bells). Being the middle child, I
had to continually be coming up with ways to entertain myself, and at GG's
there was a plethora of things to do and get into. The woods that surrounded
GG's house were thick with ferns. I remember taking them and weaving them and
making "forts" which would always cave in on me.
GG was as old as the hills, ever since I knew her. A very independent
woman, even as she lost her eye sight. She always insisted on driving herself
when she could, which understandably made my Grandma (whom raised me) nervous.
There was one such incident that I remember. Grandma had
mentioned that GG was going to come and visit, and looked worried because GG
had decided to drive herself. We kept watch out for her. Sure enough sometime
later, here came GG's big 1960's red and white beater creeping down the road,
with GG peeking over the steering wheel. My Grandma was relieved and I at
eight, was very impressed and in awe of GG making it all that way.
I remember another time when GG had come to visit. She was
helping my Grandma get dinner ready. In a corner of the kitchen she was peeling
potatoes. My Grandma always listened to polkas when she was in the kitchen. I
had gone in there dancing and prancing and shaking my butt to polkas, near GG's
chair. All of a sudden she reach out and pinched my butt! I jumped and looked
back and she was grinning.
Well, this did not stand with me. So I waited until she got
up and was washing her hands at the sink and then I pinched her butt. I'm
pretty sure she did not swat me, simply because I had the nerve, and the cheek
to return the pinch.
GG passed away on July 17, 2005. There was not a dry eye in
the church. She went out in a blaze of glory, living every day full, and
treating each day as if it were her last, surrounded by friends and loved ones.
At her funeral they played "The River" by Garth Brooks. That song
embodies my GG in every way.
About Two years ago my Great-Uncle Fred Blahnik, took all
the stories that GG had written down about her life and put them together in a
book called: "The Hardest Life I Could Ever Love." I know I am biased
when I say this: It is a very good book and a read that I recommend.
My love of writing is something that GG passed down to me. I
owe so much to her. She had an everlasting effect on my life. Wherever she is,
I hope that she can see me, and feel proud of the woman I have become.
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