I think about them a lot, my grandmothers. I never expected I would, at this point in my life. One died while I was in high school, the other while I was living abroad after college. My life today looks nothing like it did while they were alive, and as a teenager and young adult, I never thought to ask their advice on marriage or parenting or growing up. Yet their presence has become palpable since I became a mother. One had seven children, one had six. They raised their boisterous broods Catholic, kept beautiful homes, aged gracefully as matriarchs of their clans. My memories of them are thick with hugs, snuggled into sweaters and perfume, all warmth and smiles at the welcome of grandchildren. But the funny thing about grandmothers is that we never knew them when they were simply mothers. The messy part of parenting - the blood-sweat-tears of raising their own families through life's dreams and disappointments - is behind them by the time we enter the picture. The next generation … [Read more...] about the women in my bones