Today is grandma's birthday. She's 80 years old, which means she was born in 1929. She was born just a month shy of the start to the U.S. Great Depression. I wish I knew more details of her life. I wish I could picture what it was like for her growing up on a farm in Mississippi. I wish I could understand life through her eyes.
I know her as a truly Southern lady (or when I was a kid I knew her as "lucky charms grandma"--she knew how to win me over). She isn't a socialite, but she's southern through and through. She has weekly hair appointments and goes nowhere without appropriate matching jewelry. She loves grits and vegetables 'southernly' cooked to the point that they have no nutritional value. She visits my grandfather's grave on his birthday and father's day. She makes shortbread cookies every christmas without fail because she knows my dad loves them so much. She may seem soft spoken, but she's got spunk. I think she's an introvert like me. She also avoids conflict (another way we're pretty similar). And, she's my namesake. Clara. It's her first name, which she actually doesn't like and therefore goes mainly by her middle name, Charlene.
As I write this post, something inside me smiles. Grandmothers are such special people and mine is no exception. And I really think she enjoys being a grandmother. She loves to spoil her grandkids and throws most rules to the wind.
Happy Birthday, Grandma!
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