A Special Survivor

My grandmother was a special survivor through out her life. Her life began in 1899 in the Buffalo, NY area. Her mother became very ill and had to put my grandmother and her sister in an orphan’s home. Eventually, the two girls were adopted together by a family who owned a farm in Odessa, NY. The farm life probably set the pace for my grandmother’s work ethic, but so did the economic times. My grandmother was married in 1918, gave birth to her only child, my father, and shortly thereafter was a single parent. The survival story continues with my grandmother moving back to the farm in Odessa for several years and then relocating to Elmira, NY to find work in the retail industry to support herself and my father. Over the years, my grandmother worked from 8 am to 9 pm many days, walking to work and back again wearing shoes that were lined with cardboard to cover up the holes in her shoes. No matter what the weather, my grandmother walked to and from work, Monday through Saturday. Many dinners shared by my grandmother and my father consisted of one potato, bread and vegetable, with that one potato being given to my father. Times were tough, but my grandmother was a special survivor and eventually my father met my mother, they were married, I was born and my grandmother lived with us for the rest of her life. She continued to work in retail, she walked back and forth from work each day and almost everyday I would watch for her to come home and run to meet her as she was walking down our home street. It was so special when I saw her walking towards home. I still remember those wonderful times walking up to walk with my grandmother. As time went by, my grandmother became ill; a brain tumor, surgery and back home to be with the family. My grandmother continued to be a special survivor, but the illness was one she just could not survive. She began to have seizures and was taken by ambulance to the hospital. She did not return home after that and I was sad. Throughout my grandmother’s life she struggled, but each struggle made her stronger. She taught my father to work hard and be a survivor too. My father and mother had five children. My father worked as a police officer and also worked three other jobs all the time. I learned many wonderful things from my grandmother-how to curl my hair on rags and/or kid rollers, what happiness is, and the importance of working hard every day to ensure a better life one day. Now, I am 70, still working, in fact over the years I have worked one full-time job and four part-time jobs all the time. It seems like my grandmother and father both taught me to be a survivor too.