Eighty-nine-year-old bundle of sass

This summer we bunked up with this eighty-nine-year-old bundle of sass.  

Her secret to life is laughter, optimism, and Tupperware. 

Grandma Willis was a depression-era child, learning in her infancy that she was to be grateful for the food on her plate and not waste a single thing.  People everywhere were hungry, she often says, so we had to appreciate the food on our table.   She tries with such effort to clean her plate even when it’s invariably too much food for her petite stomach to handle.  She saves her plastic bags and takes them to the recycle bin at the grocery store.  She keeps food long after the expiration date.  And she saves every single piece of Tupperware that comes into her grasp.  After much deliberation, I finally convinced her to throw away the twenty-four plastic butter containers she had stashed in her cupboard.   

As we approached transitions, heartaches from the ever constant trial of infertility, and stressful challenges in school this summer, her example lifted me to new perspectives.  She has been a widow for nearly thirty years, she recently suffered a heart attack, and several falls have left her bones in disrepair and full of excruciating arthritis.

But I never hear this woman complain. 

She approaches life with such perpetual cheerfulness that I sometimes feel like a black cloud compared to her brightness.  She tells the same stories over and over again with equal amounts of enthusiasm.  The little things in life make her happy and I don’t think she goes two hours without having a good hearty laugh.  That time span probably was shorter in her younger days.  Now in her old age she often falls inadvertently into a two hour nap at various locations. 

  

 We went shopping together, made dinner, talked about books, cried together, laughed together and became good friends.  I loved listening to her tell stories about granddaddy.  He died when Blair was just a toddler, so we don’t have anything to piece together his persona other than her memories.   From her stories, I see so much of who my sweet husband is.  He comes from a family that is unfailingly proud of their children.  Some parents magnify what’s wrong with their children.  I’ve noticed that the Willis legacy is magnifying what’s remarkable about their children.  Grandma says that if for some reason one of her children was sent to jail, Granddaddy would brag to everyone that his son was the best darn license plate painter in the whole jail.   

When she’d hold onto my arm and walk through a store with me, I often forgot how old she was.  I could almost visualize her as a young, vibrant girl walking arm in arm with me and I would wish to myself that she was my age - that she was my best friend.  I'm so grateful for the time we had with her this summer.  We want to be happy, positive, and vibrant like her.