In honor of Grandparents’ Day, Java Journal asked readers to tell us about how their grandparents touched their lives. A big thanks to those who shared their stories. We were extremely touched by this story from Michele Wessley. We hope you enjoy it, too.




When I was growing up, my grandmother took care of me most of the time. My parents were divorced and I lived with my grandparents. That might sound sad to you, but it was by far the best thing that could ever have happened to me. I went to live with them when I was seven years old. I still saw my parents, but most of my time was spent with my grandmother. They lived on a farm in Southern Missouri and raised cattle and chickens and grew vegetables. They also had a dog named Benny and several cats.

My grandmother was the type of person who made everyone feel good. No matter what I did, she always loved and accepted me. I always felt important, no matter what. There were times when I misbehaved, but she was still kind about how she disciplined me. She was so nice, but firm, that I never wanted to repeat my bad behavior. She made me WANT to behave better. She loved me and I never doubted it.

Even though she worked all the time canning vegetables, taking care of the animals, doing laundry (she hung the clothes on a line to dry, even in the winter) and so many other things around the farm, she patiently gave time to me. I helped her with many of the chores, and we did them together.

She taught me how to can fruits and vegetables for the winter, milk cows, grow vegetables in her garden, bake pies and bread and clean fish. She even got my friends involved in canning and baking. My friends always had fun at my house because of my grandmother. And she drove me and my friends everywhere we wanted to go when the chores were finished.

My grandfather died when I was a teenager. He was a very nice but quiet man, so I wasn’t as close to him as I was with my grandmother, but we loved each other. I knew that my grandmother missed him, but her love never changed for me. Even though he was gone, her sweet and loving attitude never changed. Teenagers can sometimes be quite challenging, and I was no exception, but my grandmother hung in there with me and loved me no matter what I did.

Those teenage years passed, and we managed to stay close. When I left home for college, my grandmother stayed on the farm, never wanting to leave. It was her home, her memories, her friends, her animals, her life. She was always healthy and joyful, so thankfully she was able to stay on the farm with the help of friends and neighbors.

After college, I got married, moved to St. Louis and had a baby boy. I visited my grandmother as often as I could. I loved her so much. My grandmother died nine years ago. But a part of her lives on in me. You see, she made me who I am today. I am who I am because of my grandmother. She gave me love, acceptance, hope, peace, security. She gave me confidence. She gave me joy. She is the only person I can ever say who has truly given me unconditional love. She was my friend.

Grandparents’ Day is very special to me. Without the love of my grandmother, I can’t imagine how my life would have turned out. When I celebrate Grandparents’ Day, I take some time to be alone with my thoughts about my grandmother, and I talk with her as if she’s with me. As crazy as it sounds, I think she sets that day aside for me, too.

    Michele M. Wessley
    St. Louis