Happy International Women’s day!
While I’m sure all of you good feminists are scrolling through a news feed filled with iconic women who have pushed for the progression of women, make sure to recognize the women in your own life who have impacted you. Sure, Gloria is queen and The Notoriois RBG is your spirit animal, but let’s not forget the women who may not be making headlines or are excepts in the history books. Mothers, Grandmother, Aunts, God mothers, cousins, best friends… These are the real life women we tend to forget, but owe so much.
My biggest inspration is my late Grandmother, Ann. A woman far ahead of her years, she was born in the 1930’s to a semi- traditional Irish Cathloic home. She was raised by a single mother who was never quite pleased with having a daughter. She suffered many occasions of verbal and emotional abuse.
At a young age she married and was engulfed in an abusive marriage which she escaped by fleeing. Later, she met my grandfather, whom she married in Las Vegas after only knowing him for a few weeks. They moved from Columbus, Ohio to Los Angeles, California where she would call home. My grandmother was unable to bear children of her own so she adopted my mother as a baby and took on the role of housewife and mother. She kept a clean home where she baked and cooked everyday.
In the eighties, my grandfather, Chuck, died from Lukemia. My mother had just graduated high school. Heartbroken and irrational, my grandmother moved them to North Carolina where she wanted a new start.
My grandmother never remarried, and remained in love with my grandfather until the day she died in 2010. She lived alone in a one story home that she kept orderly where she sipping her nightly gin or scotch, reading mystery romance novels.
My grandmother was the mouthiest, strongest and most witty person I’ve ever known. Her best friend always tells the story of when she was a secretary. After fetching him one too many cups of Joe, She told her boss, hand on hip, cigarette between her figures, to “stick his coffee where the sun don’t shine”. Fiesty.
My grandmother and I were best friends. She watched my every weekday while my parents worked. We’d share a can of soup everyday for lunch and watch Gilmore Girls at 5 pm. She would study with me everyday after school at the kitchen table, and instilled in me that I was smart enough to accomplish what I put my mind too.
She had the elegance of a 50’s movie star and the mouth of a typical Irish Catholic [I can still hear he exclaiming “God Damnit, Cath” or referring to my father as “that son of a bitch” to my mother during an argument].
I was her shinning star, her prize. She loved me as if I was a gift sent specifically to her. Her final 16 years were dedicated loving and caring for me.
As a girl she encouraged me to always have girlfriends, to not take the bullshit from anyone-especially the neighborhood boys, to go after my goals and to remember to be kind to people.
She was a flirt and a little bit of a drunk but she was always pure and wore her heart on her sleeve. She was the kind of person who one would never wonder whether she really liked you or not- she made her feelings quite clear. I loved her for that.
A couple years after she passed, I found a letter that she wrote me on a shopping list- the kind you find hanging on the fridge in the kitchen. Her words were so beautiful and conforting I tattooed them beside my ankle. Now everyday I still walk with my grandmother.
So between your posts about Leaning In, or empowering other women to engage in their womanhood, make sure to reflect on the women who empowered you. We are all important and we are all strong when united and recognized.
[From far left: My grandmother, my great-grandmother, my mother and I. Circa 1995]
Stand For One Standard 