My Indigenous grandmother taught me to bake bread, and how necessary it is to vote. She served in WWII (and outranked her sons and son-in-law). She is still with me and whispers in my ear every day.
Thank you for sharing such a lovely comment -- may we all know peace during these difficult times. May we continue to support and care about each other. Big hugs, Alene.
It was a joy to read words that epitomise what my 88yr old self believes should be the attitude of all elderly women. Contribute, inform and shine until the end so one is remembered. xx
Thank you - your wisdom, your spirit , your sharing . I did not have such a grandmother , nor mother as yours . My experience unfortunately was of negativity and dread. HOWEVER I have chosen to be opposite as a mother and a grandmother. I have had the pleasure of throughout my life of having wise women share their strength, struggles and wisdom - how fortunate am I. .
I am 72, have had numerous health struggles, and losses in the past 3 years but I am making these years my adventures …to embrace all the I do have,..to live as best as I can, as well as be kind, caring and loving ..it’s all the attitude I believe , and I spite of our chaotic world we can still have peace, kindness, embrace all the beauty and wonder around us. Be well, enjoy your adventure of life 😊
Hi Jan - unfortunately my mother , grandmother weren’t fierce - repressed anger ? Funny at 15 I became in over with women’s rights - met Gloria Steinem . All of my dear mentors except one have passed I have the gift of their love & wisdom. I’ll be 73 in Feb. (2/22/53 ) I’ve been told numerous times I am “ too sensitive, feel too deep, too much “ My dear acupuncturist tells me “ do NOT change , we need more like you “. So I am who I am ..yes I am enjoying retirement ..stay well ..as Ringo says peace & love
Dear Chris....I think we must have been separated by birth a year apart!! (I'm 73 in July) My mother and grandmother were fierce, strong, negative, women who generated in those around them a sense of dread, anxiety and fear. They loved their families fiercely, but not in the way a young sensitive girl's heart and soul needed. I too, have had elder women mentors and the last, passed away in a different state w/her daughter and I was unable to say good-bye. I am pleased that the last time I did see her, she was able to see I was carrying on her work, in the quiet Quaker way she had. I am proud of that.
Recent health issues, have brought up loud and clear old fears. It's difficult to sort out those that belong to me and those that are legacy beliefs from these two fierce women. Like you I embrace my family (husband, daughters, sons-in-law and grandsons) and am present to them in loving ways, with lots of hugs and humor. I find great peace in that. I find great peace when a grandson suddenly texts me, just to say "Hi." I know I am loved.
It's odd to know you have less time in front of you than you have behind you....standing on the edge as (Parker J. Palmer says). I think about that just about every day. And then I make a decision about the day....how can it best be used? In the service of others or in the service of my studio? Or at home tending the 'fires'? Its a more restful place than I thought retirement and older age would be. But as you say....there are still adventures to be had!! Thank you for your sharing!
My maternal grandmother, Avery Belle Atkinson Holmes, born in 1892, school teacher until marriage, mother of eight children, four girls and four boys, three of the boys served in the US Army Air Corps during the Second World War. My mother was her youngest child born in 1931, during the Great Depression, in Altamont, Kansas. She was forced to give up school teaching when she became a married woman, but worked everyday of her life and sought many ways to contribute to the family coffers, she raised chickens and milk cows, and sold eggs, milk, cream, cheese and buttermilk. During the Depression, she made cottage cheese and sold it to the local school. When the oldest children began to leave home, she boarded high schoolers who lived too far out in the country to go home each day. She sewed all of her own clothes, including undergarments, until she was near 80. She made clothes for the rest of the family until the girls were old enough to take over. She gardened and canned and pickled, butchered chickens, baked bread every day, cooked 3 meals for ten people everyday, mended knitted, crocheted, tatted, quilted and braided wool rugs. She knew hundreds of tales and poems, and studied the Bible daily. She was not a cuddly, huggy Grammy type, although I do remember her reading The Little Red Hen and The Pokey Little Puppy to me as I sat on her lap as a a 2 or 3 year old. She kept track of current events, and told me she remembered when Lindy flew across the Atlantic Ocean, and she watched Neil Armstrong walk on the Moon. I remember writing an essay when I was in junior high school about who I would want to be stranded with on a desert island, and why. I chose my Grandma Holmes, because I knew she had all the skills necessary to keep me safe and could teach me everything I needed to know. And her poems and tales and Bible stories would light the darkness and keep us entertained for years
Such a great sketch of your grandmother Holmes. The hardiness of the women of this generation moves me, helps me to remember the importance of self-reliance and service to others. And BTW, ( a little aside) my grandmother also read me The Pokey Little Puppy, which I remember as my first book. Golden Books, I think was the publisher. It's amazing what our grandmother's saw in their lifetime. Wonderful sharing. Encouragement to write more about grandmother Holmes. Big hugs.
Oh my goodness, how I needed these words today. Thank you.
I threw out my back the other day (by simply lifting my leg in the shower!), and I feel like I've aged 200 years in two days, walking bent over with a cane, my cat sitting on me to purr away the spasms, my husband applying lidocaine cream with a loving touch.
Acute spasming sounds awful, but I have to say that having sat with the pain for three days and asking myself what I can learn from the experience, so many insights have flooded my mind.
I am grateful that this is an injury that will pass.
I feel exceedingly compassionate toward all the people in physical pain that won't pass soon or maybe ever. And for those in emotional and psychological pain that don't know yet where to turn for relief.
I feel love and loving.
I see the wisdom in slowing down, relaxing. I don't need to know EVERYTHING. I just don't.
I don't need to DO everything. I just don't.
And I don't need to brace myself against life. I can unclench my backside and my jaw and try flowing with Reality and enjoying the wonder of it all.
Susan, I just had to grin while I read your response. I've always seen you as someone who shines their way through life. I'm grateful to know you. Big hugs my friend.
My grandmother Angela was brought across our southern border at age 6 in 1906, the youngest of 6 children. Her mother Juana Villarreal traveled north with her children after her husband died and her country was headed for revolution. Juana died in El Paso at the age of 53. I went searching for her grave, but found only a sandy gravel lot of crumbling illegible markers. Such courage and determination I envy. Blessings 🙏🏼
Laura, what an amazing story about your grandmother -- a woman with conviction and vision. Her name may not have been preserved upon the crumbling stones of markers, but in the elements of rain, wind and sun, her name lingers. Biggest of hugs.
I loved and admired my Missouri grandmother, Mary Susan Franklin, who raised 9 children on a subsistence farm in the Ozark foothills. She showed me how to dress a chicken, raise the best tomatoes, turn feed-sack and worn-out apron scraps into spectacular quilts, practice kindness even when it hurt. She's been gone for decades, but she's still a living part of my life. Thank you for this, Stephanie.
I like the way you put this, Susan -- "She's been gone for decades, but she's still a living part of my life." I have gotten to experience that magic too, and I'm grateful.
I, too, was born in Lamar, Mo and raised in Golden City; both very small and rural. My grandmother Belva Joe Smith-Curry was born in Red Oak, Lawrence County. Pleasant Alexander Smith was my great grandfather who I barely remember. I’m getting ready to go full throttle into my genealogy, as soon as I return from a trip to Scotland. Fun will be had. I will try to follow you to see if our paths could have crossed long ago.
Thank you Stephanie for your writing. I’m going back to read your earlier Substacks, having found you at the beginning of this year. Your eloquent words and the weaving of stories past and present resonate deeply. So much to ponder as I am turning 70 this year. I identify as Crone and an elder but have not yet embraced “old.” I’ve actually been writing about that separately as part of the next piece I plan to post. You’ve given me much to think about as it relates to the meaning of old.
When I think of old, I think of the saying “old and decrepit” that somehow entered my psyche long ago. It seems it’s time to pull that apart and consider “old” alone. I’m currently continuing to heal from fracturing my pelvis and having surgery back in November. I experienced ageism as the surgeon and his team considered whether I “should” undergo surgery or not. Fortunately, all agreed I was an ideal candidate for the surgery, which will allow me to live and move pain free. Their initial stance however is another reason I’ve avoided labeling myself as old.
I am working toward walking without a cane, the latest device I’ve graduated to using. By late May, I expect to be walking independently and exercising, including returning to bicycling and by summer, paddle boarding. I plan to start back to working with weights for strength building and yoga for flexibility. All in the context of a 70-year-old healthy body. That’s the physical aspect.
The spiritual aspect of me, embracing the wisdom I’ve gained and the openness to learning more day by day, connecting to the wisdom and grace of the women who came before me, especially my beloved Italian grandmother, make it easier to consider that I too am now old. But I’m not quite there yet in embracing that word, so thank you for the opportunity to sit with this.💖
Such wisdom and love in this fine piece. This line will stay with me: "She did not question whether she was living an authentic life; she simply lived." Thank you, Stephanie.
Thank you dear Stephanie for mentioning my work! I loved this essay. It makes me a little wistful to imagine what it might have been like to have had an Elder like Julia in my life. As you probably saw in my last recent essay 'Elder is Verb', I have not known any elders in my growing-up or adulting... and so much as with my childlessness-not-by-choice, I am feeling my way into my young elderhood with curiosity, but with few examples... other than the amazing women I meet online like yourself and some wonderful others. Thank you for this beautiful, heartful post xxx
Yes, Julia was a great role model, though I didn't know it at the time. As you point out, elder/eldering is a verb and I'm blessed to have been the granddaughter of a woman who had such a deep relationship with the land and what the land brings to the heart. When I imagine you, Jody, I imagine someone who also knows that the Divine resides in the land. It's the spirit of an enchanted Crone who I believe whispers secrets to you when you travel forest trails or walk by the water's edge. And I see you as an embodiment of her. . . Elder on my beautiful friend.
Thank you so for your beautiful post. I too have lived a life very similar to yours and feel a kinship that has not been supported. I especially like your expression, ‘childlessness-not-by-choice’. I will now use that in my narratives. I am grateful.
Gosh, gosh. The way you flip values on their head and find goodness in the things that actually *are* good makes me want to live more fully and peacefully. Thank you for the vision of aging into a fullness of life that you've painted here. I feel mostly sorrow when I think of the elders I've known in my family; there's been a lot of sorrow and chasing after things that mostly led to pain and loss, a dimming of vision. You show another way.
At heart, I believe that most of us strive to bring forth the essence of goodness that we know resides within us. We share a vision for something kinder and more reflective of who we are. And of course, the balance is that sorrow and loss are the greatest of transformative forces. The pearl only becomes because of the grit. . . Big hugs and thank you for your thoughtful reading of this piece.
I was very young when most of my Grandmothers were "old". I have one left i speak with but she forgets alot now at 93. My mother only made it to her early 60's.
I didn't know that i even should have been asking questions when they were all still here. I just assumed they would be here when i had a question "later".
I am living my pathway and can only hope it is the right one.
Your writing shows me that I am indeed on the right track. I try to remember summer visits from so long ago. How the oldest women lived with their hands in the dirt and their faces upturned in devotion. Cooked from what the garden and fields provided. They also tended... all of us...
It's so nostalgic put that way, but they also had hard lives. I am starting to wonder (just now as I write this), if it was indeed the hard parts that made their will to live so strong. That turned them into the steel I remember, alongside the smiles and winks.
Thank you for bringing them back to the surface for me. ❤️
Isabella, I know that feeling of wishing I had asked more questions... but the folly of youth. I cherish my memories of those women, who as you say understood the holiness of having "hands in the dirt and their faces upturned in devotion." I think it was the tough parts, the hard parts that made their will to live as good humans so strong. Thank you for sharing your thoughtful reflections and insights.
How lovely, Stephanie, and a dear homage to your grandmother. This octogenarian has been traveling the road of 'Old Woman' for a while. Being open to new experiences, discarding the company of negativity, and gratitude is what I have found most helpful.
Love the idea of "traveling the road of old woman . . ." And with regard to being a thriving old woman, I think you say it perfectly here: "Being open to new experiences, discarding the company of negativity, and gratitude is what I have found most helpful." Thank you.
Your Grandmother sounds amazing, and is exactly who I want to be when I grow up! (I'm 55) Thank you for reminding me that in spite of everything that is going on right now, that is still possible. One of my own Grandma's had a very similar spirit.
My Indigenous grandmother taught me to bake bread, and how necessary it is to vote. She served in WWII (and outranked her sons and son-in-law). She is still with me and whispers in my ear every day.
How to bake bread. The necessity of voting. Your grandmother gave you a lot. May you continue to find peace and delight in her sweet whispers.
Thank you for giving me (and a friend) peace this morning. I shared your post with a friend who needed it too.
Thank you for sharing such a lovely comment -- may we all know peace during these difficult times. May we continue to support and care about each other. Big hugs, Alene.
It was a joy to read words that epitomise what my 88yr old self believes should be the attitude of all elderly women. Contribute, inform and shine until the end so one is remembered. xx
And a beneficial attitude it is. Thank you for sharing, Christine and big hugs.
After a while, no one is remembered but doing good is blessed.
Thank you - your wisdom, your spirit , your sharing . I did not have such a grandmother , nor mother as yours . My experience unfortunately was of negativity and dread. HOWEVER I have chosen to be opposite as a mother and a grandmother. I have had the pleasure of throughout my life of having wise women share their strength, struggles and wisdom - how fortunate am I. .
I am 72, have had numerous health struggles, and losses in the past 3 years but I am making these years my adventures …to embrace all the I do have,..to live as best as I can, as well as be kind, caring and loving ..it’s all the attitude I believe , and I spite of our chaotic world we can still have peace, kindness, embrace all the beauty and wonder around us. Be well, enjoy your adventure of life 😊
I agree, Chris, it is all about the attitude. May we both continue to enjoy life's adventure. Big hugs.
Hi Jan - unfortunately my mother , grandmother weren’t fierce - repressed anger ? Funny at 15 I became in over with women’s rights - met Gloria Steinem . All of my dear mentors except one have passed I have the gift of their love & wisdom. I’ll be 73 in Feb. (2/22/53 ) I’ve been told numerous times I am “ too sensitive, feel too deep, too much “ My dear acupuncturist tells me “ do NOT change , we need more like you “. So I am who I am ..yes I am enjoying retirement ..stay well ..as Ringo says peace & love
You met Gloria Steinem 💓
Dear Chris....I think we must have been separated by birth a year apart!! (I'm 73 in July) My mother and grandmother were fierce, strong, negative, women who generated in those around them a sense of dread, anxiety and fear. They loved their families fiercely, but not in the way a young sensitive girl's heart and soul needed. I too, have had elder women mentors and the last, passed away in a different state w/her daughter and I was unable to say good-bye. I am pleased that the last time I did see her, she was able to see I was carrying on her work, in the quiet Quaker way she had. I am proud of that.
Recent health issues, have brought up loud and clear old fears. It's difficult to sort out those that belong to me and those that are legacy beliefs from these two fierce women. Like you I embrace my family (husband, daughters, sons-in-law and grandsons) and am present to them in loving ways, with lots of hugs and humor. I find great peace in that. I find great peace when a grandson suddenly texts me, just to say "Hi." I know I am loved.
It's odd to know you have less time in front of you than you have behind you....standing on the edge as (Parker J. Palmer says). I think about that just about every day. And then I make a decision about the day....how can it best be used? In the service of others or in the service of my studio? Or at home tending the 'fires'? Its a more restful place than I thought retirement and older age would be. But as you say....there are still adventures to be had!! Thank you for your sharing!
My maternal grandmother, Avery Belle Atkinson Holmes, born in 1892, school teacher until marriage, mother of eight children, four girls and four boys, three of the boys served in the US Army Air Corps during the Second World War. My mother was her youngest child born in 1931, during the Great Depression, in Altamont, Kansas. She was forced to give up school teaching when she became a married woman, but worked everyday of her life and sought many ways to contribute to the family coffers, she raised chickens and milk cows, and sold eggs, milk, cream, cheese and buttermilk. During the Depression, she made cottage cheese and sold it to the local school. When the oldest children began to leave home, she boarded high schoolers who lived too far out in the country to go home each day. She sewed all of her own clothes, including undergarments, until she was near 80. She made clothes for the rest of the family until the girls were old enough to take over. She gardened and canned and pickled, butchered chickens, baked bread every day, cooked 3 meals for ten people everyday, mended knitted, crocheted, tatted, quilted and braided wool rugs. She knew hundreds of tales and poems, and studied the Bible daily. She was not a cuddly, huggy Grammy type, although I do remember her reading The Little Red Hen and The Pokey Little Puppy to me as I sat on her lap as a a 2 or 3 year old. She kept track of current events, and told me she remembered when Lindy flew across the Atlantic Ocean, and she watched Neil Armstrong walk on the Moon. I remember writing an essay when I was in junior high school about who I would want to be stranded with on a desert island, and why. I chose my Grandma Holmes, because I knew she had all the skills necessary to keep me safe and could teach me everything I needed to know. And her poems and tales and Bible stories would light the darkness and keep us entertained for years
Such a great sketch of your grandmother Holmes. The hardiness of the women of this generation moves me, helps me to remember the importance of self-reliance and service to others. And BTW, ( a little aside) my grandmother also read me The Pokey Little Puppy, which I remember as my first book. Golden Books, I think was the publisher. It's amazing what our grandmother's saw in their lifetime. Wonderful sharing. Encouragement to write more about grandmother Holmes. Big hugs.
Ahh, the Pokey Little Puppy! I can still picture her on the cover of my Golden Book - a little white face with brown spots is what I remember.
Oh my goodness, how I needed these words today. Thank you.
I threw out my back the other day (by simply lifting my leg in the shower!), and I feel like I've aged 200 years in two days, walking bent over with a cane, my cat sitting on me to purr away the spasms, my husband applying lidocaine cream with a loving touch.
Acute spasming sounds awful, but I have to say that having sat with the pain for three days and asking myself what I can learn from the experience, so many insights have flooded my mind.
I am grateful that this is an injury that will pass.
I feel exceedingly compassionate toward all the people in physical pain that won't pass soon or maybe ever. And for those in emotional and psychological pain that don't know yet where to turn for relief.
I feel love and loving.
I see the wisdom in slowing down, relaxing. I don't need to know EVERYTHING. I just don't.
I don't need to DO everything. I just don't.
And I don't need to brace myself against life. I can unclench my backside and my jaw and try flowing with Reality and enjoying the wonder of it all.
What beautiful inner work you do, Monica. Thank you especially for these words: " I don't need to DO everything. I just don't."
These are wise words I will repeat to myself today.
On the cusp of 80, having survived an extremely difficult childhood and decades of feeling less than, I intend to shine and to BE peace forever.
Susan, I just had to grin while I read your response. I've always seen you as someone who shines their way through life. I'm grateful to know you. Big hugs my friend.
Love your grit and dedication to light.
My grandmother Angela was brought across our southern border at age 6 in 1906, the youngest of 6 children. Her mother Juana Villarreal traveled north with her children after her husband died and her country was headed for revolution. Juana died in El Paso at the age of 53. I went searching for her grave, but found only a sandy gravel lot of crumbling illegible markers. Such courage and determination I envy. Blessings 🙏🏼
Laura, what an amazing story about your grandmother -- a woman with conviction and vision. Her name may not have been preserved upon the crumbling stones of markers, but in the elements of rain, wind and sun, her name lingers. Biggest of hugs.
I loved and admired my Missouri grandmother, Mary Susan Franklin, who raised 9 children on a subsistence farm in the Ozark foothills. She showed me how to dress a chicken, raise the best tomatoes, turn feed-sack and worn-out apron scraps into spectacular quilts, practice kindness even when it hurt. She's been gone for decades, but she's still a living part of my life. Thank you for this, Stephanie.
I like the way you put this, Susan -- "She's been gone for decades, but she's still a living part of my life." I have gotten to experience that magic too, and I'm grateful.
I, too, was born in Lamar, Mo and raised in Golden City; both very small and rural. My grandmother Belva Joe Smith-Curry was born in Red Oak, Lawrence County. Pleasant Alexander Smith was my great grandfather who I barely remember. I’m getting ready to go full throttle into my genealogy, as soon as I return from a trip to Scotland. Fun will be had. I will try to follow you to see if our paths could have crossed long ago.
Thank you Stephanie for your writing. I’m going back to read your earlier Substacks, having found you at the beginning of this year. Your eloquent words and the weaving of stories past and present resonate deeply. So much to ponder as I am turning 70 this year. I identify as Crone and an elder but have not yet embraced “old.” I’ve actually been writing about that separately as part of the next piece I plan to post. You’ve given me much to think about as it relates to the meaning of old.
When I think of old, I think of the saying “old and decrepit” that somehow entered my psyche long ago. It seems it’s time to pull that apart and consider “old” alone. I’m currently continuing to heal from fracturing my pelvis and having surgery back in November. I experienced ageism as the surgeon and his team considered whether I “should” undergo surgery or not. Fortunately, all agreed I was an ideal candidate for the surgery, which will allow me to live and move pain free. Their initial stance however is another reason I’ve avoided labeling myself as old.
I am working toward walking without a cane, the latest device I’ve graduated to using. By late May, I expect to be walking independently and exercising, including returning to bicycling and by summer, paddle boarding. I plan to start back to working with weights for strength building and yoga for flexibility. All in the context of a 70-year-old healthy body. That’s the physical aspect.
The spiritual aspect of me, embracing the wisdom I’ve gained and the openness to learning more day by day, connecting to the wisdom and grace of the women who came before me, especially my beloved Italian grandmother, make it easier to consider that I too am now old. But I’m not quite there yet in embracing that word, so thank you for the opportunity to sit with this.💖
Happy seventy! A great decade indeed. Look how far we’ve come, dear Crone sister. Write on. Share your stories. The world will be better for it.
Such wisdom and love in this fine piece. This line will stay with me: "She did not question whether she was living an authentic life; she simply lived." Thank you, Stephanie.
The magic of that generation -- they were doers and contributors. That's the part that lights me up. Big hugs.
Thank you dear Stephanie for mentioning my work! I loved this essay. It makes me a little wistful to imagine what it might have been like to have had an Elder like Julia in my life. As you probably saw in my last recent essay 'Elder is Verb', I have not known any elders in my growing-up or adulting... and so much as with my childlessness-not-by-choice, I am feeling my way into my young elderhood with curiosity, but with few examples... other than the amazing women I meet online like yourself and some wonderful others. Thank you for this beautiful, heartful post xxx
Yes, Julia was a great role model, though I didn't know it at the time. As you point out, elder/eldering is a verb and I'm blessed to have been the granddaughter of a woman who had such a deep relationship with the land and what the land brings to the heart. When I imagine you, Jody, I imagine someone who also knows that the Divine resides in the land. It's the spirit of an enchanted Crone who I believe whispers secrets to you when you travel forest trails or walk by the water's edge. And I see you as an embodiment of her. . . Elder on my beautiful friend.
Thank you so for your beautiful post. I too have lived a life very similar to yours and feel a kinship that has not been supported. I especially like your expression, ‘childlessness-not-by-choice’. I will now use that in my narratives. I am grateful.
Gosh, gosh. The way you flip values on their head and find goodness in the things that actually *are* good makes me want to live more fully and peacefully. Thank you for the vision of aging into a fullness of life that you've painted here. I feel mostly sorrow when I think of the elders I've known in my family; there's been a lot of sorrow and chasing after things that mostly led to pain and loss, a dimming of vision. You show another way.
At heart, I believe that most of us strive to bring forth the essence of goodness that we know resides within us. We share a vision for something kinder and more reflective of who we are. And of course, the balance is that sorrow and loss are the greatest of transformative forces. The pearl only becomes because of the grit. . . Big hugs and thank you for your thoughtful reading of this piece.
I was very young when most of my Grandmothers were "old". I have one left i speak with but she forgets alot now at 93. My mother only made it to her early 60's.
I didn't know that i even should have been asking questions when they were all still here. I just assumed they would be here when i had a question "later".
I am living my pathway and can only hope it is the right one.
Your writing shows me that I am indeed on the right track. I try to remember summer visits from so long ago. How the oldest women lived with their hands in the dirt and their faces upturned in devotion. Cooked from what the garden and fields provided. They also tended... all of us...
It's so nostalgic put that way, but they also had hard lives. I am starting to wonder (just now as I write this), if it was indeed the hard parts that made their will to live so strong. That turned them into the steel I remember, alongside the smiles and winks.
Thank you for bringing them back to the surface for me. ❤️
Isabella, I know that feeling of wishing I had asked more questions... but the folly of youth. I cherish my memories of those women, who as you say understood the holiness of having "hands in the dirt and their faces upturned in devotion." I think it was the tough parts, the hard parts that made their will to live as good humans so strong. Thank you for sharing your thoughtful reflections and insights.
How lovely, Stephanie, and a dear homage to your grandmother. This octogenarian has been traveling the road of 'Old Woman' for a while. Being open to new experiences, discarding the company of negativity, and gratitude is what I have found most helpful.
Love the idea of "traveling the road of old woman . . ." And with regard to being a thriving old woman, I think you say it perfectly here: "Being open to new experiences, discarding the company of negativity, and gratitude is what I have found most helpful." Thank you.
This is a wonderful reminder to be grateful and not to let the world steal your joy. Thank you
Yes! Thank you for your kind thoughts, Willena.
Your Grandmother sounds amazing, and is exactly who I want to be when I grow up! (I'm 55) Thank you for reminding me that in spite of everything that is going on right now, that is still possible. One of my own Grandma's had a very similar spirit.
Don't you just love the spirit of the old Grandmothers? May we continue to share the light they've bestowed.
Don’t ever call one of my grandmothers old - or even grandma. She was always young and vibrant and powerful.