Grandma’s Girl

My Grandma Wilde was one of the meekest, sweetest women I have ever known. She was a farmer’s wife full of faith and femininity.

And having a tomboy for a granddaughter undoubtedly kept her up at night.

In her defence, I wasn’t a normal kid. I shunned cosmetics and boys and spent hours training myself by running up the gully behind my house in two feet of snow. For fun.

Grandma always warily eyed my mop of hair and unmade face. One day I decided to indulge her and let her do a makeover. I remember sitting in her bathroom, looking at all the beautiful lines on her face as she intently painted mine. And feeling so incredibly loved.

Then I looked at the clown staring back at me in the mirror with my blackened eyebrows, blue eye shadow and fuchsia rouge.

Regardless, it still remains one of my most tender memories of my dear, sweet grandma.

I was reminded of her the other day during a conversation with Hadley.

“Mommy, what do you need lips for?”

“That is a very good question, Hadley. One reason is for kissing.”

“Oh. And for putting on lipstick, right?”

This kid’s for you, Grandma.

What are your favorite memories of your grandparents?

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