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She's 95

Grandma Gin is a force to be reckoned with. She's fierce, rather dark, very curious, an advocate for better food in her retirement home and is generally one of the most informed individuals I know.  She is always abreast of political happenings, seldom tolerant of nonsense in general, and often a person around whom others gather to do good work.

She and her cronies have made hundreds of quilts for veterans, have generated thousands of dollars for good causes selling their homecrafted holiday ornaments, and continue to meet every evening after dinner at a cozy little 'Peyton Place' they've appropriated in a quiet corner of their building.

Sometimes they work puzzles. Sometimes they just gossip. Mostly they gather to simply be in the same place with those of like mind.

I want to be tough like her, but I feel I may not have quite the titanium core she possesses. She grew up during the Depression on a farm in Colorado. Her father was a raging (and mean) alcoholic, so she and her 8 sibs circled and protected one another as a matter of course. She managed to flee that life by relying on her brain and a work ethic forged from from iron, and she went to nursing school.

Funny story, when I was a little girl (and was spending time with my grandparents while my Mom was finishing up her degree at the university), she gave me megadoses of Vitamin C when I appeared to be coming down with chickenpox, which happened to be making the rounds at school.

I never got it. Cool, huh? Well, kinda, except when my kids came down with the dreaded stuff when I was 31, I hadn't built an immunity...so I got it then. Fortunately, antivirals kept me from exploding in a terrible rash, but the virus took a toll on a body that was already run down from training for a half-marathon in the summer heat.... Ugh.

Anyway, Grandma Gin has survived. The Depression. WWII. Korea. Vietnam. Iraq I and Iraq II. 9/11. Afghanistan. Market fluctuations, three daughters who would have challenged the patience of Job, me (ahem), another granddaughter who makes me look like Ghandi, my grandfather, who was one of a kind, and a whole host of older brothers who protected her fiercely from others but tormented her as only siblings can for most of her childhood.

Happy Birthday, Grandma Gin!  You are an inspiration to us all, and we wish you nothing but delicious cake and endless celebrations!

Hugs and love,

Stevie
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