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Taking Time to Thank the People who made my Life so Rich

I am not a wealthy person in terms of money, though I consider myself rich and continually blessed. I could name so many people who have been supportive, kind and caring. They stand as the unnamed heroes in my life. Perhaps this will help you to think of a few heroes with a smile on your face and gratitude in your heart.

There was no one like my maternal Grandmother. She never had any money. My Grandpa and Grandma epitomized living paycheck to paycheck. They were poor, when their kids were little the kids worked in the fields beside them. My Mom talked about hoeing cotton and picking asparagus in Arkansas before she was five. By the time she was a teenager she was the second of seven children. My Mother was sixteen going on seventeen when she worked with my Grandmother in the café where she met my Father. She told a story about how my Dad walked in and sat down at the counter. For some reason he got up for a minute and left his seat. While he was gone the other men at the counter pulled a prank and put tabasco or some kind of hot sauce in his coffee. Talk about a rude awakening for my Dad when he took that first sip. Apparently, My Mom and Grandmother both laughed without trying to be mean. That is how my Grandmother and Mom met my Dad. He came back day after day, but never left his coffee cup.

My earliest memories of my Grandmother were as fond as those from just before she left this life. She was kind and gentle with me and all the grandkids. There were eventually a lot of grandchildren, but I think she was sweet and loving toward each of us. You couldn’t help feeling special with grandma. Even as a little girl she would sit down at the table and have a cup of coffee with me. Mine was mainly milk and sugar, but it left such a memory with me. No coffee will ever taste as sweet and smell as good as was the Folgers, in a plain white anchor hocking mug, that she used to make us. No matter what time of day or night we arrived there was coffee and visit. Later when I was grown and went to visit by myself, we would spend hours at the kitchen table just being together or working in the kitchen. She had a sweet smile and kind eyes. I just knew that she loved me and all of us.

My Mom was my Grandmother reborn; she was the one that was always there for my Sister and me. She was my best friend until she left this earth. We truly enjoyed and respected one another. When I was 15, I wanted to go to Washington, DC with the high school Closeup group. Being always practical, my Dad said no, we couldn’t afford it. My Mother, who was a stay at home Mom, got a job at Red Lobster peeling shrimp for 8 hours a day to pay for the trip. I know there were no words that would have taken away the physical pain she felt from her raw hands and aching back. I said thank you, but it wasn’t enough. She was a beautiful mom inside and out. I just knew that she loved my sister and me.

As I grew up and matured there were wonderful teachers, bosses and co-workers that extended kindnesses I never felt I earned, but they did them anyway. I am grateful to them all, for without them my life would have been so much darker. They brought the light and shone it with magnificence on me. I will never know why, I don’t question it, I just am grateful for it and them. I hope somehow my gratitude reached them, but just in case I would like to put it out another time. Thank you to all of you unnamed wonderful people, I still appreciate you and always will. I just knew that they cared for me.




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  • I am so enjoying your stories. What a sweet and wonderful homage to your beloved family. And your are such a wonderful product of all of them.

  • Oh, I simply love those stories of moments, like when your parents met. It was a small insignificant moment and yet it defined their entire futures. Thank you for sharing!

  • This a very heartfelt blog. Many blessed people in your life. And you give your love and graciousness to so many.

    Cindy Winsel

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