dona's 365

I don't really remember my Grandpa Patrick. He died when I was only 3. My dad says he used to hold my bottle at an angle and I'd walk up and drink from it like a calf. He was a farmer all his life. That’s about all I know about him.

When my Grandpa Green wasn’t reading a book or completing a crossword puzzle he’d be playing solitaire. I asked him once, what kept him from cheating. His response was “You’d only be cheating yourself.” He didn’t know it then, but that advice gave me the foundation for who I’ve become.

A self-described ex-flapper, my Grandma Green smoked, drank, skipped, cursed and taught me the Charleston. After Grandpa died she went on with her life, had boyfriends and paved the way for her granddaughters by living with a man. She lived life fully; she died among her family. Happy Birthday Grandma.