Comparing My Two Grandmothers

My Two Grandmothers

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth; after that, He created grandmothers. If you want to talk about creating something in His own image, the grandmother is it. Remember as a child how "God-like" she seemed to be? She was all knowing and all seeing. She could be gracious and forgiving, but the wrath of a grandmother is not something soon forgotten. I grew up with two grandmothers who lived fairly close to me, so I was able to spend a lot of time with them as a child. My grandmothers were very different in terms of appearance, personality, and background, but they did have similar Christian values and work habits.

In December of 1948, Imogene Ballentine gave birth to a baby girl who would, twenty three years later, become my mother. Mrs. Ballentine would frequently tell her six grandchildren that twenty-three years was long enough for her to be a mother, but I know she loved having us around. We called her "Nana" instead of the traditional grandma because she insisted the name suited her better. Nana is a petite woman, standing about 5'4", with bright blue eyes and hair to match. From her twenties to the present day she has always kept herself in perfect, manicured fashion. Her nails have always been an exact one-half inch above the tips of her fingers for as long as I can recall, and the roots revealing her true hair color have never shown. The family has tried to update her wardrobe many times through Christmas and birthday gifts, but she still maintains that 1940's look. This rebellion against fashion truly reflects her incredible personality.

Nana has a knack for creating big scenes and is often a little too outspoken. I will never forget one incident in a Denny's restaurant. Nana, her sister, and I had gone in for dessert one night and were waited on by a nice-looking guy. Nana purposely spilled her ice cream so that the waiter would have to bend over to clean it up. Just as he bent over, she reached up and pinched his butt. Her sister roared with laughter, and I hid under the table. I was shocked to see a sixty-five-year-old behaving like a teenager, but I think her young-at-heart attitude helps us relate to each other even better than I relate to my own mother.