My Grandmother, My Hero

Most of my earliest memories involve my paternal grandmother. I remember pulling a chair away from the kitchen table to sit across the counter from her so that I could watch her make the pan of biscuits or the cake that I knew would taste so good. I always attribute my love of cooking to these times with her.

My paternal grandparents owned a farm in eastern North Carolina with their two sons, my dad and his younger brother. My grandmother still lives on this property though a lot of it has been sold back to the state because of the riverfront nature of the property and the efforts the state is taking to preserve the wetlands in eastern NC.

We lived next door to her in a house that my parents built and moved into right before I was born. I was the first grandchild of two in that family and my grandmother kept me when my mom had to go to work or otherwise leave the house so I spent a lot of time with her.

My parents still own this house and rent it out because they don't feel like it would be fair to her to sell that property while she is still living. My parents have often joked with Matthew and I that they would give this house to us if it were in a better location (we moved away when I was 8 for job opportunities for my dad and to get away from the Marines).

Today, my grandmother is 74 years old. She's still very capable of taking care of herself. She's intelligent and cooks for her self. A couple of years ago, she even wrote a small book about her childhood as a sawmiller's daughter that she gave to us at Christmas that year.

The problem is that she lives very very alone out in the country. My dad is a truck driver and can't get to her quickly if something were to happen and my uncle has a job where he also has to travel somewhat extensively and he would have the same problems getting to her quickly. She's also very lonely. She sits and watches the renters that live so close to her and has detailed reports to give to my dad about them when he calls which sometimes drives him crazy.

A month or two ago, as my mom and I were driving back from a family reunion, she again joked about giving us the house. I told her that grandmama would watch us just like she watched her neighbors now and my parents wouldn't hear the end of it. My mom turned to me and told me that no, she wouldn't, because it was me. And, somehow, that hit home. She was right. My grandmother would never admit that I could do anything wrong (*preen*).

I went home and talked to Matthew about it. We've discussed it many times since then and I just can't get the idea out of my head. I feel like I'm being told, not by my parents and not by Matthew, that it is my duty to take care of her and to be there to help her should she need it. I've mentioned this casually to my mom and she told me a bit about what kind of land came with the house (we need a bit for farm animals and gardens and things so that we can be self-sufficient). I haven't really seriously talked to my parents about it yet and I certainly haven't told my grandmother yet because we aren't sure how long it will take before it can happen. But, I think this is what will happen.

It's not what we planned at first but it seems like the right move. Now to get all the details worked out...