List 43 things I learned from my grandmother

.If you give the milk for free, he’ll never buy the cow.
.I’m going to see a man about a horse.

As I try to improve my posture I was reminded of how my grandmother would insist that one sat with the lower hipbones to the chair, just as Pilates is saying. WOW that woman was wise!

Was her favoorite topic on lectures to children. She´d go on extensively on how to behave, when to intervine, the right moment to ask a question or ask for something, how to openly discuss money (for her it was Sunday morning)

In these tight economic times I have come to remember to repair clothes I used to discard because lack of buttons or torn hem. I don´t think I will be mending socks, but did some adjustments on bell bottoms. Now I have capri pants, Thank you mamita Aida.

14. The art of conversation. Growing up, I wasn’t close to anyone really; we moved a lot and my parents weren’t really into me at the time. So life was kind of lonely and fairly quiet, as far as connections and conversations went. But every weekend I’d go stay at Gramma’s, and we’d have tea and talk, talk, talk. She would tell me about the hell she raised as a teenager, offer advice about making friends and my future. I would tell her about my life and she would always put it in perspective and send me home with a new attitude. Those conversations kept me sane; they gave me an anchor. Somewhere to bounce my youthful ideas around, to dream and actually be encouraged. We talked about homophobia, good books to read, or the rape of my classmate, or the cute news broadcaster. We talked about my grandpa’s Alzheimer’s and what I should do the next time my dad hit my mom. Gramma’s conversations made me crave more for my life. She showed me the dark side of my existence and then taught me how to avoid it in the future. And I have. I truly have. That was the biggest gift she could have given me—that connection, that investment in my mind and thoughts. Now I know that connecting with others is not only good for myself; it can do so much for someone else as well.

13. How to make a necklace. It seems silly, stringing beads and tying on a clasp, but Gramma’s necklaces were always special to me. She patiently taught me how to select the right colors, what bead sizes were best for certain outfits, what kind of string to choose, what sort of clasp would be good for certain people. It’s more complicated than you’d think, especially when you have a wide range of items available. She bought me a little velvet mat to lay all the beads out on, showed me how her magnifying glass/lamp could come in handy….all of it. She really went above and beyond. While my friends were braiding string to make friendship bracelets, I was working with crystals and jade to make fabulous necklaces. The best part? We sold them every summer at the Pride Parade, and gave the proceeds to charity. Learning to make necklaces was less about a lifelong lesson and more about the memories. Her patience meant a lot to me. Her faith in me, once I got really good, meant even more. Some of those necklaces brought in some big bucks, and she was proud to donate the money that I had helped earn. Which made me proud, too.

12. To enjoy the little things. My gramma doesn’t pamper herself, ever, not the way most people do. No manicures, massages, or boxes of decadent sweets for her. She takes comfort in the small things in life that make her really happy, or make her day just a little simpler. She saves money, which makes her feel good, while enjoying something small and lovely. Sometimes she has a little scoop of ice cream…and spends twenty minutes eating it. She lights a peach candle just to enjoy the scent. Or she’ll go through a fast food drive-thru just to get a plain hamburger with pickles only. Those small, seemingly insignificant things create a day of wonder and joy. It’s amazing. I try to do the same thing in my life; I have a square of chocolate, which somehow tastes better than if I had eaten the whole bar. Or I use hand lotion that smells divine, and spend the whole day catching yummy wafts of it. Gramma showed me that life isn’t about the big, grand things—it’s about enjoying the sweeter, smaller packages.

11. Love really can be blind. This lesson isn’t so much a positive one as a negative one—which is okay. Life has both sides to it. My gramma thinks her son “Don” is an angel. He’s almost 40, married with two kids. He used to date my mom and was believed to be my father when I was born (which is why Gramma is really more of my “Gramma of the heart,” by the way)...Anyway, Don is a first class pervert. He cheats on his wife to this day, has never been faithful, and has fathered two secret children. Gramma thinks, “Oh, he’s just randy. A real man’s man.” When in reality, it’s wrong and kind of sick. If Don runs into my mother in town, he gets all slimy and sexual; it’s been almost 23 years since they were together! Yep, one of those guys. I think Gramma’s blind devotion to her child is sweet in a way, but also a good warning for me. Not everyone is as they seem, and some people are just strange. I hope I can be a mother who teaches my kids right from wrong; that it’s not okay to go stomping all over other people because you can’t keep your jeans zipped. So this lesson is more of a real life lesson than the others. Still, it’s been useful for me. It’s why I picked the kind of man I picked.

10. Prepare for everything! Gramma likes to, shall we say, “stock up.” On everything. Her medicine cabinet is actually a medicine closet. The pantry in her house is like a grocery store. Every time I visit she “shops” the pantry and sends me home with boxes of food! Her garage is full of random emergency kits and tools. Her purse always has a band-aid, gauze, and aspirin in it. Drives through the country must be properly packed for, including bottled water and a sandwich of some kind. She takes a backpack when she’ll be gone somewhere all day. If you need something; money for gas, a gallon of milk, or a can of peas, she will have it. She has never failed. I try to emulate this in my own life. Seeing someone so self-assured and calm during crises has taught me that if anyone is going to be the anchor during a storm, it may as well be me. Now my purse carries the same items as hers. I have a nice little medicine kit growing in my linen closet. I know exactly where to go when something happens and we will find you a solution. It will take time, but I’m trying to be more prepared.

9. The joy of creativity. My gramma is a bead nut. And a fabric nut. And a word nut. She will spend hours in the fabric store, poring over all the selections of colors and textures. She makes necklaces for all the grand-daughters’ thirteenth birthdays. She has made a baptism gown for every single grandchild. And she designed her own home layout. She owns two store-bought shirts. The rest she made herself. She writes poetry; really beautiful, haunting stuff to be published once she dies. She loves going to the symphony or to see the Blue Man Group. It’s amazing how creative her world is. I’ve learned to sew, to bead, and to write because of her. My imagination is still colorful and very much alive. I scrapbook and write and quilt, putting all of my emotion into whatever I’m doing. I’m glad she taught me to keep life fun and creative.