My Grandmother Is My Grandmother

Growing up was not such an easy task for me. There came a time where I needed support far more than anyone person could provide, except for one, she was exceptional she was my rock, she held my world together she is my Grandmother. My Grandmother was not just my Grandmother; she was also my friend, my provider, and my savior because without her I would have more than likely taken a very wrong path in life.

There she stands, all of five feet tall, short brown hair set in pin curls, dressed in modern day slacks and a flower print shirt. She is fierce, never afraid to speak her mind; she is my hero; she saved my life; she is my Grandma. Growing up was not an easy task for me, but my grandma made it so much easier. She would drive her four-door, tan Buick fifty miles one way from Warsaw, Indiana, to South Bend, Indiana, every weekend to retrieve me. She would pack me in the front seat of the car. Upon opening the door, the familiar scent of grandma 's rose perfume mixed with her lemon

My Grandma and I always went on adventures, whether it is a bike ride to the local Methodist Church, or to go watch a softball game, we were never short of activities. One of my favorite things to do with my Grandmother was to take a walk over to Kiwanis Park, which was just across the railroad tracks, about three blocks from Grandmas. We would take a loaf of bread and feed the fluffy ducks, and on the way home, we would stop at the Flagpole Ice Cream Parlor for a cone. Once back at Grandma’s, we would prepare dinner for Grandpa, beef and noodles the best. Grandma 's house was my safe-haven; no one could hurt me there; she made sure of it. After dinner, we would talk, and she would read stories to me, and we would just enjoy each others company. My Grandmother never asked too many questions, she just knew. She knew what I needed when I needed it and how to provide it for me. She was and still is my best