Many people wonder why I chose to join Her Campus, an organization designed for college women. The truth may sound peculiar, but I find a unique comfort in the company of women that I struggle to find with men. Growing up in my mother’s hair salon and being surrounded by a predominantly female family has shaped my preference for female camaraderie. Interestingly, I discovered that I respond more positively to authority when it comes from women rather than men. The one person in my life whom I have always held in profound respect is my grandmother.
It wasn’t solely because she was my father’s mother that I formed such a strong bond with her, but rather, it was her strength, resilience, and the warmth in her smile that made me feel truly at home. During my childhood, she would share stories of her time in Poland, recounting the challenging early years of World War II when her home fell under Nazi occupation. Though she carried unspoken scars on her neck, she managed to transform the tragedy that befell her into a wellspring of strength, passing down this resilience to her children, my cousins, and me.
Do not let this warmth fool you, she was very strict, and when she said to do something, you did it. She was the first to let you know if you were eating a little too much since the last time you saw her grabbing your belly saying, “Looks like you’ve been eating good.” Her love of going to Kohl’s and returning items the next day, just because. Her house was always immaculate and she made sure that every cabinet was dusted and washed, and the handles neatly shimmered to her liking or you would have to do it again.
She was always the first to help you out when you were in a pinch. Everyone in the family knew that if you needed anything, she was the one you go to, whether it be a place to stay, advice on anything and everything, and sometimes just a warm hug. Or, if you were lucky enough, she would steal all your quarters when playing Domino’s or Left, Right, Center and pretend it was “just” luck. Her cookies were the epitome of divine and her house was always filled with pierogis or snickers in the downstairs freezer.
When we buried her on Saturday morning, she was surrounded by her six children, over fifteen grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren. Her tombstone had a simple message and a simple prayer, yet that plaque could not contain what she meant to me and my family. If you are lucky enough and you take a Webster’s dictionary, you will find her picture right next to the word “grandma.” She embodied a time and age where silent strength and resilience spoke more than Instagram likes and fame. I will miss my grandma more than anything in this world, and this five-paragraph article cannot capture who she was, but I think it would make her proud. Rest in Peace, Grandma.
From Yours Truly,
Haston<3