Now we call her Grammi

When I was little my Grandma Gerty told me to marry a Mama's boy. She explained that a boy who could love his mother well despite all the mistakes a mom could make in the time it takes to raise a boy was the kind of man who would love you through bad pot roast, dried up bank accounts and stale moments in your marriage.

When I met Jon it didn't take long for me to decide I wanted to marry him, on his end it took a little longer. By the time we decided we were getting married I'd only met Jon's mother once and I was terrified she was going to hate me or that I'd do something awful on accident and she'd never forgive me.

In the (almost) 2 years I have discovered what made my husband have a heart so forgiving, a soul so accepting and a tongue so competitive. He learned it from a woman who could mend broken hearts with a bed at home from college, who could pray her way through family crisis 3 families wide and who always had time to chat.

Turns out I didn't have anything to be scared of. It didn't take long to call her Mom, it took even less time to call her Grammi. Ironically enough she didn't hate me...although I don't talk to her as much as I did in the beginning (I'm a mommy now too) I still love her to death.

So Happy Mother's Day Chris, without you I wouldn't be having my first Mother's Day. You did a dang good job on that boy of yours. Dang good.