My Childhood Hero

You know when you're a child and on every survey or essay or something, they want you to write about your hero? You know how most kids write about the president or Abraham Lincoln or Batman or Ghandi or someone that has been really influential in the world? Well, I would always write about my Grandma Van Lieshout. She may not have influenced as many lives as Ghandi, but to me - her influence was much more profound. She was one of the strongest women I know.

On Saturday evening, we received a call from my aunt and uncle letting us know that my Grandma Van Lieshout, my father's mother, had passed away. She was 83 years old and by some sort of miracle she was able to die without any pain. She just suddenly stopped breathing.

And suddenly, as I heard the news - I wasn't really sure what to do. My grandmother shaped my life in so many ways I can't even count them. But I'd like to just take a few moments to give you a little glimpse into the life of a woman who was able to live 83 years in two different countries, speaking two different languages, raising 6 amazing children, influencing 16 grandchildren and almost one great grandchild.

My grandma was born in Holland. She lived there during World War II. Have you ever seen that movie A Bridge Too Far you know, the one where the town gets wartorn and destroyed by the Nazi's. That is the town where my grandma lived. She hid jewish people in here home. She watched destruction all around here. And still, she survived.

When my grandma married my grandpa, they didn't take your typical honeymoon, they packed up everything they owned in two wooden trunks and boarded a ship for America, for a new life in a new country, a new promise and a language they didn't speak.

In America, they started their own farm in Maryland renting land from a farmer and began to raise a family. Then, suddenly urban sprawl made its way out to their area and the farmer sold their farm for development, so they packed up once again and moved to New York to once again start a farm. This time with my grandma's sister and her husband. And they continued to grow their family.

Eventually, all the boys running around the farm from two large families made for a lot of mouths for one farm to feed. So my grandma and grandpa, once again, packed their bags and headed for western New York.

This is where I come in....

Some of my favorite stories about my grandma revolve around food.

I used to go to my grandma's to tell her every single detail of my life on a daily basis. During this time she would give me a windmill cookie. I was allowed one cookie per day. She was all about rationing.

Every Saturday morning, my grandma and I would feed the calves together and then I would go over to her house for breakfast. I used to love her fried eggs which she would cook in a pan after cooking bacon to get all the flavor of the grease. And it was here that I discovered strawberry sandwiches which are basically the best thing known to man.

Also, my grandma used to buy wheat bread. Back then that was a very special treat because my mom never bought wheat. I remember stopping in at her house with an alarming frequency to request a slice of brown bread.

As much as my grandma was about rationing, she was also a marathon cooker. If something was in season or free, you can bet that she was using it three times a day and plenty of it each time. It was very obvious she had lived through the depression, just by looking at her cooking habits. My dad always talks about his hate for rhubarb because at some point in his life it was the only thing they had for every meal, but for me, I always remember the onions. With the muck just 4 miles away, rotting onions are really easy to come by in the summer and fall. And conveniently, they are also free. So, my grandpa would routinely bring home bushel baskets full of onions with rotted spots, and my grandma would, graciously, use them up. I remember she used to always make two sandwiches for my uncle to eat for lunch everyday. Usually, Andy would eat these at the beginning of milking. In the summer and fall, when onions were abound - onion sandwiches were also abound. Milking with Andy, you almost had to cover your eyes because the smell of onions piled on the sandwich was so thick it would waft across the barn overpowering all other smells.

Even though my grandma and I haven't spent nearly as much time together in recent years, she's definitely a big gap in my life and I'm going to miss her - my hero.