(ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN MARCh 2016 EDITION)
By Brianne Lindline – Campus Press Co-Editor and Columnist
March is Women’s History month and as one can imagine there are countless women who have made an impact on the world. Civil Rights Activists, political leaders, athletes, scientists, teachers, celebrities, the lists of powerful women go on and on. Yet sometimes the real heroes are the ones right under your nose. The first person who always pops into my head when someone asks who my role model or a hero of mine is, I always think my grandmother…my beloved Mom Mom. She has not found a cure for cancer, she has not won a Nobel Peace Prize, or climbed to the top of Mt. Everest, but she has cured many of my ailments growing up, she has kept the peace between my mindless bickering with siblings, and she has climbed to great lengths to make sure I had a great childhood.
Grandmothers Always Have a Cure Any time I ever have a small injury or ache, I always run to my Mom Mom’s comfort. She always seems to know a home remedy for every little thing. However, I can say I am guilty for not believing her or just dismissing her advice and wasting money on some type of medicine. Oftentimes, I really am just wasting my money because the main ingredient in the medicine is what she recommended me to use all along. One of the things she always tries to push me to use is rubbing alcohol. No matter what it is, she’s just like, “Put some alcohol on it”. I always object with skepticism thinking my small injuries must need some divine, pricey elixir. Yet proven wrong, time and time again, rubbing alcohol or any simple home remedy she comes up with always leaves me healed.
No Fighting, now, Children! When I was younger, my older brother would tease me and taunt me until I would cry or throw a tantrum. My Mom Mom would always have my back and be to my rescue or at least be able to mediate our fights. My brother and I are super close and always have been, but he really knows how to provoke me. Nowadays, we still argue and although we’ve grown up we both revert back to our childhood ways once in a while. If my Mom Mom hears one of us just make the tiniest remark, she jumps up to keep the peace. I can admit that sometimes we just play around and pretend to fight because it’s humorous. Sorry, Mom Mom. I know you’re reading this; the cats out of the bag.
From Struggles to Snuggles My grandparents really helped my father out to help raise my brother and I. To this day, I wonder how different my life would be if I didn’t have their support. My Mom Mom made sure that we were bathed and fed, and always watched over us. Not only were we fed, but grandmothers are just expert chefs ─ hands down. She really loved us and nurtured us, making sure that we had the warmth we were missing from the absence of our mother. I am grateful and extraordinarily lucky that I did have such caring grandparents, because not everyone is that fortunate. My brother and I joke around all the time, saying my Mom Mom needs to be granted into Sainthood. I could not ask for a better hero to honor in Women’s History Month. My hero has shown me love, support, and wisdom. That’s all I really need. Thank you Saint Mom Mom!