 My grandmother was born in a tiny Hungarian village in 1930. My great-grandmother had twins before her, but they didn't survive. Two years later, my great-aunt Rózsi was born. The girls went to school in the neighbouring village. They weren't well educated, but they never lacked common sense, and grew up to be the kindest people I've ever known. After both of them got married, Rózsi moved out, and Grandma stayed in their parents' house. My grandfather used to work in a city far away, and only returned home for the weekends. This meant that Annus, as the family used to call her, had to raise their son (my father) and 2 daughters alone. She also took care of old bedridden relatives, household chores, and the hundreds of hens they kept for eggs. All this was decades of hard work for her, with deteriorating health. She often suffered from loneliness, too, as all 3 children left the village to study in Budapest, and later settled down in or near the city. She supported them nevertheless. In 1980, my grandparents sold their home and moved in with my parents, whose house they had helped build. I grew up with four adults taking care of me and teaching me valuable life lessons. Grandma had three major skills: gardening, baking, and maintaining relationships. Every plant seemed to instantly flourish around her, even the seemingly hopeless cases. I learned from her how to sow seeds and grow edibles and beautiful flowers. When my 4 cousins stayed with us during summer holidays, she tirelessly baked us pancakes. After she sold her vineyard, her last physical connection to the village, she still kept in touch with the community. She remembered every friend's and relative’s birthday, wrote them long letters, and sent dozens of postcards for Easter and Christmas. She was a great listener and observer, she even remembered what guests had for lunch the last time they visited us. She loved her family unconditionally, she never judged us, even if we made life choices that clearly went against her Catholic values. She survived a lot of people she wouldn’t have wanted to: her husband, her sister, her son (my father), one of her sons-in-law and her first great-granddaughter. In the last months of her life, she talked a lot about feeling useless. She couldn’t work in the kitchen nor the garden anymore, due to her health issues. The only joy left for her were visits from loved ones. Our next big family reunion is planned for the date that would be her 90th birthday. Thank you for honouring the lives of beloved grandmothers! ~ Réka Gyöngyhalmi
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