It's not easy, quoth the grandmother.

There was an interesting article in the NY Times a couple of days ago about how Michelle Obama's mother, Marian Robinson, is adjusting to life in Washington D.C.  I believe there are so many families in this country who rely on grandparents to help them make ends meet, both financially and in their daily lives, and that the idea is not really discussed often enough.  I like that Ms. Robinson is becoming more of a national talking point, or that grandparents in general are.

My little fur baby, Oreo, was quite sick last week.  I still don't know what it was, but starting on Monday she had diarrhea and it lasted through the week, actually getting worse throughout the weekend.  I brought her to my parents' house on Sunday while I did laundry and asked if they could watch her for us while we went to see the Wolverine movie.  They did and then offered to watch her for another day or two since my mother is home all day and could keep an eye on her (Oreo was going outside nearly every hour on Sunday so I was very worried about her dehydrating).  She seems to have fully recovered now, thankfully - but it made me realize how glad I am that both the hubby and I have our parents around in the event that we need help.  Granted, right now, that help mainly entails offering up a free meal and laundry machine usage once a week, but even that is nothing to sneeze it; we appreciate it greatly.

My grandmother is a legend in our family (but whose isn't, right?).  Many years ago, after my grandfather died of cancer, my grandmother declared that, "Everyone has cancer in them - it just matters how you live."  Not many years later, scientists theorized the same thing - that we all have the potential for cancer in our DNA but that it's our life circumstances and habits that determine whether or not it's expressed.  Now, for a woman who grew up in the Ukraine and never went to school a day in her life, that's pretty incredible.

 

But nothing tops her most used and well-loved phrases:  "It's not easy" (sometimes also known as "Life's not easy") and "You do what you can."  Often these are used in tandem, for example:

Grandmother: How's school? Me: Good.  I like it a lot.  It's a lot of work and I don't get to see my friends a lot, but it's good. Grandmother: Yeah, it's not easy but you do what you can.

Bingo, bam, slam dunk.  The phrases work in so many situations and we have all found ourselves using them on occasion and giggling when we hear other people use them.

But they're both remarkably true and that's the simple beauty to them, the sort of simplistic, truthful beauty that can't be learned in school.  Yes, life is not easy.  Nothing worth something is.  And, yes, you do what you can.  Of course, that one could almost be overlooked - of COURSE we all do what we can.  But the beauty is deeper.  What constitutes can?  As an educator, I am frequently faced with students who think they're doing all they can but once you show them how just a little bit more effort pays off, they realize they can do so much more.

My grandmother marched through Europe during WWII, moving from country to country with my grandfather, with nearly nothing to their name, picking up five languages along the way, although she knew how to read none.  They moved to Argentina and then later to the U.S. when my mother was a baby.  Perhaps that's why I have a broad view of what one can do - because my grandmother showed me a whole world of can.

When my grandfather died, she was 63 years old and still did not know how to read.  My mother set her up with a literacy teacher and, with help and time, she learned to read for herself.  Now nearly 85, she has been living on her own for twenty years, managing her house, shopping, medications, and daily life.

I feel like what I can do pales in comparison to what her generation was able to do.  My family history drives me to do what I can because that's what you do: you do what you can because it's not easy.

What can you do?