My tiny, mighty hero Grandma!

Dear Grandma,

These days, there’s a great deal of focus on heroes. In fact, the superhero genre is a multi billion-dollar industry encompassing movies, video games, comic books and toys.

These heroes wear capes and have special powers - kids want to watch them and be them.

At four foot seven (last count) and 94 years of age, you don’t fit the mold of a conventional, caped hero. You are tiny but in my eyes, you’re the mightiest of them all!

Consider this: the word ‘hero’ has Greek origins where the literal meaning is “protector” or “defender” and is defined by the Webster Dictionary as “A person who is admired for great acts or fine qualities”. In this way, you trump Chris Hemsworth’s Thor!

I am lucky that you were a young Grandma, so we’ve been best friends for a long time, given I’m now the same age as you were when I was born.

In so many ways you have saved my life; from loneliness, from heartache and pain. Throughout my childhood my mother referred to me as an “accident” but you always made me feel like I was precious. When I was little, only a few years old and in the house alone, you taught me to memorize your number and we’d talk to each other on the phone. I can’t remember a week when we haven’t spoken – all these years of endless conversations.

Grandma, you were always my source of light and joy. My childhood at home wasn’t happy, you more than anyone knows that. You saw that my parents demanded perfection and parented with such cruelty that it made you cry.

When I was sixteen and my mother angrily thrust her wrists through the glass window pane in front of me, it was you who came to my rescue. You helped me wash the beige carpet clean and loved me until I was alright.

When life became untenable at home and I escaped to boarding school, you lovingly sent me weekly cards containing $5 notes. We continued our phone calls and I wrote you letters from my heart. You were, and always have been, my confidant.

You encouraged me to work hard and continually sent me words of support- I was elated when I topped the state at the completion of school and made you proud.

When I graduated with a double major at college it was because you offered your home as my sanctuary and allowed me to live with you and Grandad. You were my safe harbor and I thrived in a stable environment.

Those years were incredible where we attended yoga classes together (with you wearing a little black leotard!) and I happily accompanied you to bingo. Together we watched Anne of Green Gables and every Judy Garland and Steve Martin film. Most teenagers preferred to be out partying but I loved spending my nights with Grandma, at home.

While my parents continued to fight and divorce it was you who paid for my driving lessons and helped me get my license. And when I moved into my own place you generously bought me my first TV, video recorder and enough tins of food to get me through my first few poverty- stricken years as a new graduate.

When I experienced my first relationship breakup it was you who came with me on vacation and wiped away my tears.

When I saved enough money to fulfill my dream and fly to New York you house-sat for me and fed my cat.

When I was sick in hospital you walked for miles, then caught a train and a bus to visit me.

When I was a sleep deprived mom with a tiny newborn, you again spent hours on trains and busses and arrived on my doorstep equipped with groceries and your home-made spaghetti bolognaise.

Grandma, you’ve always been there for me, comforting me in the difficult times and celebrating my wins.

When I’ve walked through the dark valleys you’ve been my brightest light.

I’ve spent every single birthday and Christmas with you over the course of my life because you have always been my favorite person.

You taught me how to celebrate and put on a party because we all know how you love parties! I’ve learnt how to write loving cards, to always say “thank you” and give generously because of you.

You’ve taught me how to celebrate the milestones but perhaps your greatest gift has been teaching me to notice and celebrate the things others take for granted; the small sacred moments in every- day life.

When I visit you, our ritual is to head into your kitchen and put on the kettle. The first thing we do is sit down, share a pot of tea and have a chat.

You’ve taught me the importance of pausing and the art of great conversation.

You, my beautiful grandma, are the magnificent story teller of my life.

You’ve filled my years with your stories of family and war and survival. You’ve recounted your years as an eleven year old girl knitting socks for soldiers in the second World War and baking them cakes. You didn’t ever receive one birthday present as a child and yet you have a heart that gives endlessly.

As a girl, you grew up in a family of six and resided in a tiny 2 bedroom house. You shared a bedroom with your four siblings and yet “never wanted for anything.”

Grandma, you have taught me the value of having a grateful heart and appreciating what we’ve got.

You have always encouraged me to pursue my goals and to embark on my dream life as a writer. When I secured my first book deal and turned in my manuscript, we celebrated by going to a pop concert together (you were eighty!).

Creatively, you are my inspiration and I’ve watched you tirelessly knit your beautiful colorful creations to give to others. Throughout the years you’ve gifted me and my children your incredible knitted cardigans, gloves, hats, pullovers, blankets and tea cozies.

Grandma we are kindred spirits! We share the transcendent Agape love which is the Godly love. I love you wholly, truly, openly. I trust you with my heart; you know everything about me and you still love me.

Our multiple daily conversations continue to be a highlight and after all these years I still feel excited every time I see you.

As testament to our connection, I have instinctively known to drive to your house in your hour of need. When I’ve opened your door, I’ve found you collapsed and semi- conscious having spent the night on the cold, kitchen floor or sick in your chair, barely able to breathe.

Recently, just as I was about to sit down to my birthday dinner, I felt the hands of God upon me once more, lifting me up and urging me to drive to your house. I found you alone and unable to stand. Again, I called the ambulance and you remain in hospital as I pray for your provision and protection.

At ninety- four, your body is frail but your spirit burns bright. Others may see a diminutive, white-haired lady who can barely walk but I want to tell them that this tiny woman is a warrior!

Grandma, thank you for our epic love story.

You are the hero of my life!