Part 1
My grandmother is probably the most loving person in my life. She had a heart full of love for all the world and even those that had hurt her, would always find shelter, should they need her help. I could not understand how she could be THAT forgiving, but perhaps that was her gift. Maybe she had done her self-criticism and found out the true meaning of life, when the rest of us were struggling to find who we really are. She would go to the church every Sunday and pray for those in need. A distinguishing trait in my grandma’s personality is her sweet-talking. She has something special when she speaks that talks inside other people’s hearts. I believe this is why she so easily and swiftly becomes endearing among people she has just met. She is kind and affectionate and every time you go to her house, she would fill a basket with handfuls of goodies that make children run wild and adults feel “in debt”, in the good sense.
I remember one day, when she met an angry villager that had quarreled with his neighbor. My grandmother found a way to make him see that life is too small and does not worth it to spend his days ruled by anger. Instead, she gave him a cupcake she had just made and was on her way to bring to us. That was so like her! Giving and loving.
My grandmother, I guess, has the typical physical appearance of all grandmothers in my country. A petite round figure with her cute silver glasses on, a white shawl around her shoulders, a hat protecting her porcelain face from the bright sun, leaning in her walking stick to release the pain from her lately injured right knee and a baggy dress that allowed her to move easier. That was my grandma’s style, ever since I can remember myself being around her! Comfortable clothes to wear, not caring much about what fashion dictates.
Part 2
Last time I visited my grandma’s house was during last Easter holidays, when she called and asked me to spend some time with her in her beautiful house next to the lake, where me, her and my granddad used to go fishing with the small boat that had my name on it. The moment I stepped my foot that that lovely yard, I could see from a distance my grandmother’s greatest love, her flowers, in perfect shape, full of vivid colors and swarming about the place with their mesmerizing aromas
. She was there, on the doorstep. The figure of a once very beautiful young woman that time has matured like the best red wine was staring at me rocketing loads of love and sending vibes of a grandma eagerly anticipating her favorite and oldest grandchild to “lighten her days”, like she would always consider of me staying with her every now and then. She was smiling cordially and waiting to hold me in her arms. She had what many people would call “majesty”. Her facial features were distinguishing, expressive delicate lips, high cheek bones, big round blue eyes and golden hair than have now turned to silver, without taking away anything from the beauty she once had. She was a rather chubby figure now, with her baggy dresses, but her shawl would give a note of romanticism on her outfits that fits like a glove with her character. She and my grandfather loved dancing. I remember many times watching them waltz and dragging me along!
“My honey flower!” she shouted the moment she saw me take the turn. “Honey flower”. That was what she used to call me ever since I was a baby. In fact, all her words would come out like honey from her mouth. She opened her arms and closed me inside her big, warm hug. I love that feeling of peacefulness every time she hugs me!
When we entered the house, everything was neat and tidy, like always. All her possessions were in their place and the house smelled the “summer breeze” liquid she usually uses when she mops the floors. Her second great passion, her hand-made embroidery, would decorate her furniture. She had knitted a new piece of embroidery for me too. That was her way to make a dowry for me to have when I get married one day. “The best housewife is the one with the brightest whites”, she would always say. Her hand-knitted embroidery were fantastic with the brightness white one could imagine existing. That is why, many mothers that had young girls would ask my grandmother hand-knit some dowry for their daughters to decorate their houses with.
Of course, her kitchen was on fire! She was baking my favorite cookies and a chocolate cake, while she had the chicken with lemon potatoes and oregano in the oven for some time already. Not to mention the freshly homemade peach marmalade that I totally adored, from the peaches right outside her front yard.
Yes, THAT is my grandmothera woman with open arms to hug the whole world, a big heart to fit everyone in it and a genuine flair for giving to people she cherished the most or the ones in need. That is the woman that has taught me that life is precious for the moments she gives us. And, thanks to her, I have managed to cherish life for every sunrise
