100

This week I am going to a birthday party. Not just any old birthday party. A 100th birthday party. Apparently, these are not all that common.

The birthday girl is pretty special. She was born in 1908 so she has seen two world wars, the advent of the computer age and has even had to bury a son.

Her husband fought in the second world war so she was left at home with five kids to raise on her own. After the war she had had two more. One of whom was my dad.

My grandma Eileen turns 100 this week.

She is one of the most remarkably tenacious women I know. I was blessed enough to grow up in the same city so she played an important role in my childhood. I still cannot go to Chinook Centre without thinking of her and our many shopping trips together. It's only now that I realize how much patience that would have taken. She wasa a brave, brave woman.

As I grew older and she grew less able to get out there were many visits at her lodge for lunch. She was a fellow bookworm and we loved to chat about various books we had read.

She was one of the first people I showed my engagement ring to, was there at my wedding, and has met both of my kids. She even crocheted a blanket for Spud, no small thing when terribly crippled with arthritis.

As she has grown older she has grown more into a world of yesterday while the rest of us head into tomorrow. Family members are not often recognized and the pain of living in a body that worked so hard for so long increases.

Yet, while she may not know me, I still know her. A woman of strength, dignity and love.

Happy Birthday Grandma.

I love you.