My great-great grandmothers on my maternal Grandmother's side were SOMETHING.
Grandma Georgiana had 5 kids in 5 years ya'll. In the early 1900s, she had TWO SETS OF TWINS. This tiny little lady birthed two sets of twins and they all survived.
She stayed up the night through when all 5 of her kids had whooping cough at the same time, gently shaking them one at a time to help clear the mucus from their lungs. She saved all five of her children.
Her husband was a traveling salesman and she was often alone. She cared for 5 small children with no electricity, no running water, nothing. She had to drive her buggy to town to get water to drink.
She then had to keep alive 3 wild boys whose main goal in life may have been to drive her up a wall. Running their ponies through the house, playing chicken, and general chaos must have encompassed her days.
My grandma Chloe raised 11 CHILDREN, in a tiny little house in a tiny little town. She also raised two of her grandchildren. She lost a son at 16 from spinal meningitis, and another shortly after he returned from the war and was killed by hitch hikers.
Grandma Chloe was a midwife and cared for the Native American women on a nearby Reservation. She was patient, caring, and empathetic.
Six of her sons served in the military. Our own little boy is proudly named for one of her sons, Cassell Jennings Lindquist, who was named for the doctor that delivered him.
She had 3 wonderful daughters, one of whom was my grandma Golda. She was quite the woman, and I loved her very much. I have always felt so close to her and often feel her presence in my life.
My own grandmother is one of the biggest influences in my life. She has taught me to have fortitude, be perseverant and long suffering, to be kind but not put up with crap from anyone. She has taught me to be faithful and hopeful, and also grounded and realistic.
My mother has taught me to be selfless and reliable, honest and empathetic. I have learned service and sacrifice by watching her, and know that her love and patience knows no bounds.
When I am going through something hard, I think of the women I have come from and I remember their strength is a part of me. Grandma Georgia traveling in a buggy with 5 wild kids in tow, running a homestead and keeping everyone alive.
Grandma Chloe, with boundless patience and faith, always looking to serve someone and knowing a lot of things you just have to let go.
Grandma Golda, who always prioritized family above all and raised her children with so much love and gentle correction.
Grandma Kaye, who is as tough and as stubborn as they come, and also the most service oriented and compassionate person I know.
My own mother, who drops everything at a moment's notice for anyone who needs her, and silently and with strength and grace, bears her burdens.
I am proud of the line of women who precede me. I am strong because their blood runs through my veins. I am grateful to be part of a line of feral women, the kind of people who do whatever it takes to make it. The kind of women who never gave up and just kept pushing and trying.
Because I know their stories, I know who I am. I have deep roots and I feel their guiding hands in my life.
I come from a long line of feral women. Who do you come from?
XO, The Cowboy's Wife
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