I’ve been working on embracing my inner-Mona:
Today would have been my Granny’s 91st birthday.
Everyone who met her had at least one “Mona story.” Everyone. Some were more flattering than others. My Granny could be a difficult woman to live with. She was stubborn. She could be harsh and judgmental. Heaven help you if you got in her way because she certainly didn’t see you as much of a road block. When she was alive I would struggle, as I am tonight, to describe her succinctly to people who didn’t know her. I would frequently settle on, “Well, lets just say she’s not your typical, story book, cookie-baking grandma.”
On the other hand, she also lived her life with an uncommon passion and fullness, with complete and total commitment. It is this Granny who I like to remember. If she wanted something in her life, she found a way to make it happen. If she had a hobby or interest, if there was something that made her happy, she would dive into that rabbit hole and follow it all the way down until the day it stopped making her happy.
I have been a bit of a broken record the last few years. I’ve said it too many times: “I know exactly what I need to do to be a good wife/mother/daughter/student/employee, and absolutely no idea what I want, what makes me happy.” My Granny knew and she never hesitated to go after it. I don’t necessarily want to be exactly like my Granny. But finding a little bit of her in myself, it could make all the difference.