My mom's mother, my grandma -- babcia in Polish -- is the most supportive person in my life. She gives and gives and gives, and asks for nothing in return. She travels between Poland, Michigan, and Virginia (where my aunt lives) -- and whenever she stays with anyone, she constantly cooks and cleans and converses.
At about my age, she left all that she knew in Poland with her new husband, daughter and another baby on the way. She knows what it's like to make a tough move. Before I left Michigan for California, we had a talk that made me cry. She was one of very few people who did not question why I was going. She was happy for me and proud of me and had nothing but words of encouragement.
Here we are in August 2007:
Two nights ago, she suffered a heart attack. It was small, and she is generally very healthy, so the doctors say she will be fine. It's still scary, though; she's having open-heart surgery (a quadruple bypass) tomorrow. And somehow, my other grandma -- on my Italian side, my dad's mother -- is also in the hospital this week. She hurt her back, but is thankfully recovering well. I've been slacking lately in the religious area, but right now I'm praying so hard that it's one constant thought.
I know this isn't a fun post, but I wanted to write about it somewhere. Thank you, dear readers, for allowing me to feel comfortable enough to do so!
PS: I'm hosting a blog event! Who's your valentine?