You say Grand, I say ma!
When I think of the word grand, I think of my maternal grandma who helped raise me. The youngest of four daughters born in 1912 to German immigrants that came to America during the turn of the 20th century after first settling in Canada, she was around for the “roaring 20’s” and bathtub gin. Made it through the depression with a modest home after being left to raise her only daughter, my mother, when her husband died of tuberculosis in 1941. She passed away in 1984 of the usual in our family, cancer, after retiring from a long career with one of Detroit’s major newspapers.
I remember the fabulous gifts she received from the editor and his wife, Lee and Tina Hills, at Christmas time as a thank you for her additional services for them by hand addressing their many Christmas cards each year. She was selected because of her exquisite handwriting skills. Something I did not inherit and partially due to the fact of being made to use my right hand as a lefty. She and my Aunt Ruth taught me the art of sewing and organic gardening when I was a very young child. Skills that have not gone to waste all these years. I don’t know what I would have done without my precious grand ma, my rock.
The following are some interesting photographs of my grandma through the years.