"A house needs a grandma in it." Louisa May Alcott

My grandmas are two amazing women. They both grew up in Kentucky during the great depression, had husbands who served in World War II and moved to Ohio to make a better lives for their families.

My Grandma Kathleen was widowed in her forties. Until that point, she had never worked outside the home. She had only learned to drive a few months before my grandpa’s death.

For as long as I can remember, she has made Sunday dinner for the family.

Even though she is in her mid-eighties, she still makes dinner for us each and every Sunday, cuts her own grass, and up until a year ago, cleaned out her own gutters.



My Grandma Jenny spent the years during World War II traveling around the country on trains, following my grandpa to different army bases. During the cold war, she worked on nuclear reactors.

She has been married to my grandpa for 67 years. I once commented that the first year of marriage was supposed to be the hardest, to which she said “try the 67th!”

My grandpa rarely recognizes her, but she still goes to his nursing home every day to feed him lunch and to make sure that he is taken care of. Now, that’s love.