The Strongest Woman I Ever Knew - SFP-Cebu #WomanPower contest

The Strongest Woman I Ever Knew

This post is in response to the What It Means To Be A Woman - SFP-Cebu #WomanPower Writing Contest.

The Contest
Write the most compelling story about woman power, woman success and prowess. It could be about your mom, your sister, your girlfriend or girl friend, or any female significant other whom you think fits the bill.

Our Goal For This Contest
The goal of the #WomanPower contest is to help a dear friend -- a woman -- who has single-handedly conquered the odds to help and nurture street kids in her city through her brainchild project called The Lugaw Project.

Women have a way of carrying the world on their backs. They are usually the emotional support system in the family unit and therefore take on everyone else's pains and woes as their own. We hug the stress away, absorb the tears and transform pain into motivation for those we love.

This story is about my favorite woman, the strongest woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing; my grandmother.

Her story is not especially exciting or unique - she was not a world renounced anything, she wasn't the first woman to do x,y, or z - in fact she was a typical American stay at home mother, a God fearing woman and a loyal wife. She married her very first 'love' and when he passed away in 1992 she never remarried or even dated. She had four children, taught dance and genuinely loved her life.

She had her share of trials and tribulations but she was a woman of faith - and that kept her heart open and loving. I still admire her utter "knowing" when it came to her belief in God. (I have never been particularly religious - I was never initiated into any church, never went to a mass or read the bible or any other books until college when it was required reading for some reason.. however I can still appreciate those who do conform.)

A Strong Woman Steps Up When Others Step Down

My parents were true hippies in every sense of the word. Free love, drugs and rock&roll all the way. I can't complain - I learned a lot from their mistakes. But when I was 5, my mom took off. My dad, now a single dad to three girls, moved back in with his parents and from there on my grandmother - Mamere as we all called her - took the reigns.

Over all the years when I never saw my mother - maybe got an IOU inside a Christmas card or a random phone call of promises to stop by soon - never once did Mamere have a bad word to say about my mother. In fact, I never heard her say a bad thing about anyone! And believe me she wasn't passive aggressive either - she was just plain KIND. She believed in forgiveness above all things.

My dad didn't want her taking us to church or "preaching" her beliefs on us and she didn't. She never once tried to force her beliefs on me or my sisters. She never swore - wouldn't even say damn. She told us we were beautiful and would sing Miss America to us - she brought us into her heart and loved us like we were her own daughters.

She taught me what a real mother should do and what it means to be a good woman.

Around 14 my mother started showing back up - my dad HATED it. He fumed and screamed - but Mamere welcomed her and encouraged us to get to know her again. She held no animosity towards the woman who walked out and left her to care for us.
My mother became more like a friend to me (or the fun big sister) - she took us out partying with her and never told me I was too young for anything. At the time I thought she was the coolest, the 'best' kind of mom because I could swear, drink, smoke, do drugs.. nothing was off limits. When I was fighting with my dad or smothered by Mamere's rules I would call my mom and escape with her and my older sister.

My grandmother saw me slipping down a bad road and she did what any good mother would - tried to steer me back in the right direction. She'd tell me "that shirt is too low, "those pants are too tight", "you don't need makeup you're beautiful". When I snuck out at night she was the one sitting in the darkened living room watching me climb back through the window at 5AM.

But she never gave up on me. When I dropped out of high school she told me I'd be okay - I was a smart girl. She drove me back and forth to my first job at 16 and refused to take a dime for rent from me - even when my dad insisted I learn how to pay my way through life since I wanted to quit school.

I got pregnant by accident at 18 by a guy I had barely been dating for 6 months I was scared to death to tell her. When I finally broke down and my dad lost his mind - screaming at me that I'd ruined my life and wasn't welcome under "his" roof - it was my grandmother who stood up and told my father off. She helped me get off drugs and took care of me when I was too sick to get out of bed. She brought me to every doctor's appointment and when my mother wanted to step in and claim the famed title of "Grammy" and be there for the birth, Mamere graciously stepped aside with not a single rude word. She let my mother have her time and looking back on it now I cannot imagine the strength that took.

And when, SHOCKER, things didn't work out with my first son's father and he took off, Mamere welcomed me and the baby with open arms back into her home. She helped me raise my boy just like she help my dad to raise us.

Strength is Shown in Actions Not in Words

On top of taking care of my sisters and I - my grandmother was a pillar in the community. She lead dancing classes well into her 70's, she held bible studies and prayer groups. Her schedule was bustling and her social life was more bumping than mine ever was. She'd drive all her little-old-lady friends around to all their appointments and give to anyone in need. She made monthly donations to the Salvation Army and bought McDonalds meals for the homeless.

She got Dementia near the end.. The hardest thing for her was the forgetting - it was the only time I saw her upset or frustrated. She prided herself on her memory - she knew song for everything, she could remember phone numbers and recipes. For at least 2 years she tried to hide her weakness - she had been strong for so long she couldn't bare to admit she needed help.

I will never have more respect or love for any other woman - she was truly the Strongest Woman in the World to me.

In closing I want to share this poem I wrote in her honor:

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