Two days ago my Granny Crowe would have turned 101 years old if she were still alive. Although Granny left us before we were ready, she left her family an unshakeable legacy of love.
When I was a girl, on Saturdays my family would drive to Granny and Pa’s where my sisters and I would play with our cousins. We would run around outside and do who knows what, but we had fun because we were at Granny and Pa’s.
My most precious memory of going to Granny and Pa’s was how special I felt in the middle of that grand group of cousins. Granny had a gift for making people feel like they were precious and exquisitely loved. Among the murder of Crowes, I was an insignificant pipsqueak. I was born with crooked feet, a speech impediment, and brown eyes. I was the second of four girls and there was nothing significant about me except for one thing: most of the Crowes had the most beautiful blue eyes.
But not me. My eyes were brown. Over the years they have lightened up to a more nondescript color, but when I was a girl they were most definitely brown. Granny made sure that having those brown eyes made that crooked footed, tongue-tied little girl feel special. I believe Granny made each of us feel that loved and special, even though there was a great bunch of us.
Nothing made me know I was loved quite like being drawn to Granny’s breast in a hug so deep I could almost feel her heart beating. Granny’s love flowed into me through her sweet embrace and touched me to my soul. I knew I was loved deeply.
Granny and Pa’s legacy lives on. Recently, one of my Crowe cousins hosted a family Christmas party. I was excited to see pictures of the event via Facebook. I marveled at the number of people attending the party and the smiles on their faces as they enjoyed being together as a family during the holidays, just like we loved going to Granny and Pa’s on Saturdays. Those pictures reminded me of how Granny left an unshakeable legacy of love in the heart of more than one little, brown-eyed girl.