Happy Mother’s Day! Cheers to all the moms, moms-to-be, grandmothers, those who someday will be a mom, pet moms, and those who play the role of mom. 

I often think about my dad’s mother. She spoke broken English so growing up I admit I was a bit frightened of her. We would spend an afternoon with her a few times a year when we visited both sets of grandparents. Both lived near Detroit, Michigan. How I wish I could have a conversation with her now! There are a million things I would ask her about her life and our family. 

My Grandma Romana (Roma) Kozlowska was born in 1903, 65 years before I was born. My grandfather, Michael, met her in Poland when he fought in WW1. They were married and eventually came back to the US where he lived previous to volunteering to fight in the Polish army.  My late Uncle George was actually born on the ship, the SS New Rochelle, on their way across the Atlantic. The ship’s manifest indicates “a baby boy” next to her name and that is where she became a mom for the first time at 17 years old. She had 3 more babies, my Uncle Duke, Aunt Irene, and my dad, Ronald.

I have vivid memories of visiting Grandma Roma and her second husband, Grandpa Frank. My grandpa, Michael, died in 1959, 9 years before my birth. I remember they lived on a street named Coventry in a small white house. I can still picture her kitchen. Near the back window overlooking the small vegetable garden, she had an enamel kitchen table with 4 red vinyl chairs. I recall her making homemade chicken noodle soup for lunch and she always dropped a whole onion in the pot. To this day when I make chicken soup for my family, I always think of her as my whole onion is added to the recipe.

As the adults talked my siblings and I spent time being entertained by their dog, Toby, sitting in my Grandpa Michael’s old barber chair in the basement and smelling the “company” soap in their pink tiled bathroom, Unfortunately as a little girl, I found the visits to their house dull. Geez, if only I could go back in time as an adult and submerge myself in her presence. I’m sure those short visits would turn into weeks of listening and exploration into her past. 

If you’re lucky enough to spend the day with your mom or grandma this Sunday do so with admiration and compassion. To those who only have memories to hold onto, celebrate with sweet thoughts of time spent together. 

This post is dedicated to my Grandma Roma. She was a courageous, sweet, and caring grandma and lived to be 93 years old. When we meet again we sure have a lot to talk about! 

Today I’m also thinking about my husband’s late Aunt Brenda on her birthday May 8, as well as, Mother’s Day. We miss you! Gone too soon.