Growing up, I spent summers with my Granny. Her house still serves as the childhood “home” in my memory, her neighbors’ grandchildren are with whom I grew up. She is hard to describe in words because my Granny was that kind of woman. The scratch-made spaghetti cooking, stiletto heel and skirt to work wearing, relentless Sunday Mass attending, scripture from memory reciting, kid-to-get-his-own-switch sending, “OhLordhelpmepleaseJesusplease” exclaiming kind of woman, who opened her door, pocket, or kitchen–and sometimes all three–to anyone in need. She was a powerhouse; an eight foot tall phenomenon whose moments as the first African-American sales clerks at a Richmond department store were immortalized in print, who walked in those stiletto heels to the bus stop each morning to work where she did her job and her boss’s too, who managed to make it to my graduations, all of them, even though she didn’t drive, who knew everyone, including the local Catholic Archbishop. My Granny was extraordinary. To me.
Who is the extraordinary person in your life and what do they mean to you? Share your thoughts, Community!