When I was a kid my grandma used to tell me that I was an old lady. Older than her. This was probably true as she was vibrant and lively and ALWAYS on the move. She wasn't the grannies at the park sat on the side lines by any stretch! She was crafty in the old sense. Making things out of nothing, cooking everything from scratch, sewing for fun but making useful things like quilts that were super warm and long long long lasting.
I think me and my grandma were very much alike. Sure she was sewing at 60, and I was doing the same at 16 but personality wise we were very similar. I butt heads with her more than my own mother.
She was from Glasgow in Scotland and had really just moved to Canada for a holiday, thinking she wasn't going to live long. Then lived to 80!
But I never got why she'd refuse to do certain things. Like get Canadian citizenship. Instead she'd stand every two or four years to renew her immigration landing card. And she wouldn't get any sort of phone plan on a contract (land line people, she hated cells). She would get an annual bus pass as that's all they would sell the seniors, otherwise I'm sure she would have only gotten monthly.
I didn't understand this.
But now I'm packing to move back to Canada myself from Britain and I realise. She was ready to go. At the drop of a hat she could run back to Scotland or wherever the wind took her. She was living life. She wasn't tied down. Yes, she had four children and a stick in the mud husband but despite that she kept her personal freedom. She kept her roots, it kept her as sane as someone self-named Crazy Grandma could be.
And at 29 I have turned into her. I knit instead of sew, but I'm ready to go.
But I don't mind. She was awesome.
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