Grandmom Waters

I know I've posted about my Granny before and I may be repeating myself. Please bear with me.

My Grandmother Waters (Katie) was an amazing woman. Granny immigrated to the United States when she was in her early 20's and met and married my grandfather (also an Irish immigrant) here in Maryland. My grandfather died young leaving my grandmother a young widow and a mother to 3 sons (my dad was the youngest).

My grandmother faced incredible hardships in her life. However, you would never have guessed this if you had met her. My grandmother NEVER complained. My grandmother was happy, proud, and strong. She had butter soft skin and beautiful blue eyes. She had a razor sharp wit and a tongue to match. She wasn't a cookie baking - knitting type of grandmother. She drank beer and sometimes cussed. She smelled of Listerine, Jean Nate, and baby powder. It might sound like a strange combination to you...but to me it's what I think heaven will smell like.

She loved her children and grandchildren and was happiest when her house was bursting at the seams with family. We visited Granny every Friday night and often had Sunday dinners with her, too. Going to Granny's was not one of those..."You're going to your grandmother's and you're going to have a good time..." kind of ordeals. We wanted to go. Truly. Not because she had toys for us to play with or things at her house for us to do. Quite the opposite was true. We would all sit around her dining room table and talk. We would take turns listening to and telling stories. That was enough...it was more than enough.

We learned about the importance of family from my Granny. My grandmother truly loved us. Not with a Hallmark Card sentimental kind of love. With a deep, fierce, no nonsense kind of love. She listened when we talked and never made us feel like anything other than the most important thing in her life. Even as teenagers we would beg to spend the night at her house. Granny never had a driver's license and couldn't take us out on fun excursions. It didn't matter. We would ride the bus with her or walk to the store, the bank, or to church. She would hold your hand with her vice like grip when you crossed the street even when you were 16. We never complained. We were just happy to be with her.

Granny was without a doubt the matriarch of our family and never hesitated to let us know it. As kids we loved to watch my Granny tell our dad what to do or give him a piece of her mind. She would say things to him like, "Now, damn it Donald, I didn't raise you to be such a jackass." We would all start to laugh and before long Dad couldn't help but join in.

I could write for hours about my grandmother. She was such a colorful character. She is still who I most want to be when I grow up. So, why am I writing about her now when she's been gone for almost 25 years? It's just that I've often wished that Granny and Lily could have met...and now sometimes I think maybe they have. When I picture my Granny I can see her walking with her ramrod straight posture and her hands clasped at the small of her back. Recently I've noticed that Lily often walks exactly the same way. Coincidence? Maybe. But...I believe it's something more.

They didn't name me Lily Katherine Yin...for nothing!