When I was younger and wrote stories centered around the women in my life, most times, my mom, grandmothers, aunts, or cousins were the focal point. And although as a child, I wouldn’t have pegged them as such, they were and are incredibly strong women.
My maternal grandmother raised six children to adulthood, pretty much as a single parent. It’s true they didn’t have much, especially since she steered away from jobs that took her out of the home and away from her children. Instead, she supported them by accepting tasks that she could complete while at home. As a result, all her children grew into strong, competent, and caring members of society. My paternal grandmother buried four of her seven children, two as infants and two as young adults. Yet I remember the time I spent at her house as a child to be filled with love and laughter. It wasn’t until I was an adult myself that I understood the weight of the emotional burden she bore.
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