Nora came to visit me this week. She's my grandmother and my gaurdian. When I was two years old, she and my alcoholic grandfather got legal custody of my siblings and I. My biological parents were unfit, and the state had reason to believe we were better off with a relative. I tend to agree.
My grandma is an amazing woman, and as I have spent time with her over the last few days, I realize more than ever how blessed I am to have her. She was a phenomenal substitute parent, and continues to be a stabilizing force in my life. It is a rare occasion when I have her all to myself, and I readily admit I love the attention.
She worked on a sewing project for my apartment today. I now have a floral draped headboard over my bed and new curtains throughout the house. Nora is an extremely talented seamstress. But that's not why I love her.
My grandma has done the very best she could, with the hand she was dealt. She was raised during a time when responsibility had a much different meaning. As a teenager, Nora disgraced her family by getting pregnant and marrying a raging alcoholic. Of course, during her youth, it would have been unspeakable to raise a child on your own, so her options were limited. Sadly enough, the infant died at birth, yet she remains married to the same man 47 years later.
In between the dysfunctional years of turmoil, she managed to raise two families. Her oldest son neglected all responsibility and abandoned his four children without any regards for the damage he would cause them. I have yet to understand how times could change so dramatically over a few decades. His actions would have been unthinkable just a few years prior. Needless to say, God had a much bigger plan in mind. I think He knew I needed the values of a generation lost.
A life well lived speaks volumes to the broken. I would not wish Nora's situation on anyone, and I constantly question why she doesn't leave. But somewhere in my soul I already know the answer. She is a light in a very dark world. My world.