From the publisher

            In recognition of National Grandparents Day September 12, a Martin ranch wife sent us a story about the folklore and wisdom passed down to her by her grandparents.

            As I read her article (see Gift of Pearls) I began to have a vague sense that I’d been cheated.

            As a later-in-life baby (an “afterthought” my 6^th grade teacher said) I never knew either of my grandmothers. My paternal grandmother died two years before I was born; my maternal grandmother died 24 years before I arrived on the scene.

            Would that chubby little Norwegian woman who gave birth to my father have taught me the secrets of making lefse?

            Surely I would have learned about Yugoslavian customs if Grandma Kate had lived to pass along her heritage to her grandchildren. Her short life has always been somewhat of a mystery to me – a puzzle I’ve been trying to piece together for the past year or so.

            Women are usually the keepers of family legends and lore. Losing her mother at the age of 10 left gaps in Mom’s knowledge of that side of her family.

But my mother certainly knew how to give her children and grandchildren something more important than family history. Her unconditional love came to us through lots of hugs and kisses, lullabies as she rocked us to sleep, beaming smiles when we brought home a good report card, the pride she expressed in even our smallest accomplishments.

So come to think about it, I guess I wasn’t cheated at all.

I inherited a rich legacy of love and compassion along with an optimistic outlook on life. Mom taught me that you can “make the best of it” whatever the predicament because “every cloud has a silver lining.”  She advised me to “put yourself in the other guy’s shoes.” Taught me that honesty is a good policy  (“tell the truth and you won’t get a spanking”). That it’s useless to “cry over spilt milk” and “better to laugh than cry” when things go wrong.

            That last bit of maternal wisdom has helped me pull up my socks and get on with life instead of whining about misfortunes. And I’ve avoided some fruitless arguments by recognizing the humor in the situation. It’s impossible to spit out angry words from lips  involuntarily twitching into a smile.

            Hopefully I’ve passed on some of Stella’s down-to-earth philosophy to my grandchildren.

            I’d like to think that 20 years down the road Justin and Rick, Katherine, Sarah and Michael will have loving memories of their grandmother. Perhaps even recall a bit of insight I shared with them.

But most of all, I hope I’ve given them the gift of laughter. Life is just too darn short to be taken seriously.