My grandmother

Unlike the real Marie Stuart, I didn't grow up with four other Maries' and I certainly wasn't raised in the French court by the King and Queen of France with the dauphin (also my future husband) as my playmate. My upbringing was much more conventional than that, like a lot of children with busy parents, I was raised by my grandparents. It was the best childhood ever, I was doted on and loved like no other child. 


I met my grandmother as an elderly woman, a kind and generous woman who was prone to frayed nerves, nervousness and excessive worry. I saw her as a woman past her prime worrying about everyone and everything that she couldn't control, which I must admit became irritating to me as I got older. I have very little direct knowledge about her when she was young, as she never told me herself, but I know that it was a hard life. She, along with my grandfather were refugees from their homeland and were forced to make a home in a country that is not theirs. They dealt with it as people do but I know it must have been isolating at times to be away from all that you know from childhood. 


Today, I happened to speak about my grandmother with another close family member of mine, someone who knew my grandmother very well and she told me about a side of my grandmother that I couldn't have imagined or have ever seen while she was alive. Granny raised five boisterous children almost on her own for most of their childhoods (grandpa's job was far away from home and was only able to visit once a month or so), she was effectively a single mother when her husband was away. She was responsible for providing clothing, shelter, food and education to her five children-at a time where modern conveniences of have not yet reached her. She did this all without a dishwasher, washer or dryer or even a refrigerator. She had to wake up every morning and go to the market and purchase the food that she was to cook for that day only! And on top of that she worked at the government accounting office as an accountant as she was always brilliant at math. 


When she left her homeland, she left with her mother (my great-grandmother) and she helped her with the childcare, cooking and cleaning, but unfortunately she got sick-cancer of the stomach. So, on top of taking care of her children, she now took care of her sick mother and her mother was ill for one and a half years before she finally passed away. She made multiple trips to the hospital, now cooking for her dying mother as well, as she didn't trust hospital food. While all this was going on, she didn't breathe one word of hardship to her children, they went along happily in their lives as though nothing was wrong. They knew grandma was ill but not how ill. When her mother was dying and she was struggling with the grief and sadness of losing her beloved mother, she never confided in her children or anyone for that matter, she didn't want to burden them emotionally and her husband was away at work for most of this time. She made sure her children got what they needed and that they continued with their daily routine of school, home and studying. She wanted her children to have the best and to achieve that they must not neglect their studies, it was their only ticket out of poverty and a life of mediocrity. Granny was the most magnanimous, she required nothing in return for her dedication and hard work to her family and I am ashamed to say, she got very little in return. When I became cognizant of this, it was too late. 


After hearing her story, I was so touched and so ashamed at the same time. She was such a  strong a courageous woman. Life had given her so many hard knocks and yet, at the twilight of her life, she was still able to give me all her unconditional love. Sometimes when I come home from work and I am tired, the last thing I want to do is cook for my husband (or do anything for that matter), I secretly think how little we've come. After all this time, women are still slaves to their home and worse, we have to work now. At least in the 50's women's only job was in the home and she didn't have to work. Now, that's not possible. Anyone who thinks they can depend on a man to support them is a damn fool. 


Now, with all the modern conveniences of technology, I still complain from frustration and psychological fatigue. Or perhaps it's arrogance, like I am above all these housekeeping matters, but I am not. Before our conversation ended, my relative said, "it's very easy for housewives to be overlooked and be taken for granted." Truer words have never been said, there are millions of women that came before me, who slaved for their families their whole lives, asked for nothing in return, and they don't even get an ounce of recognition from their nearest and dearest, like it's their job to do what they do. 


So for this Easter celebration, I will go into it mindful of the story of my grandmother and countless other nameless and faceless women who sacrificed their all for their families and got no recognition for it. May God bless their souls.