Great Characters

Lately I have been focused on character development.  Various articles I have read about writing point out how critical great characters are.  Readers are drawn to (and will come back for) interesting characters.

When I think about this in terms of my fictional characters, I am reminded of one very real one, my great-grandmother.  We called her Grandmother Martha.  Anyone who knew her would quickly agree that she was an amazing and fascinating woman.

Grandmother Martha was a little bit of a woman in physical stature, but in every other way she stood tall.  She was ready with a smile and a word of good cheer.  She lived to be one hundred years old, and her mind was sharp until the very end.  She was constantly reading, and towards the end of her life we would search for large print materials for her.  I remember one time (she was probably in her nineties by then) when she related a joke she had either heard from her son, my grandfather, or read in the Reader's Digest, I don't recall which.  Later my grandfather told us the same joke.  She had related it word for word as he had, remembering it perfectly.  I can't do that and I'm half the age she was then!

Grandmother Martha, when I knew her, lived alone in a little apartment close to the center of town.  She would walk to town for what she needed.  I didn't think about where she got her groceries at the time, I can't even recall where the nearest grocery store was, but I do remember that she would walk to the post office to mail birthday cards.  She never forgot a birthday.

She was always encouraging and supportive.  I remember making homemade bread for the first time.  We shared a loaf with her, and she called to tell me it was the best bread she had ever had.  I was floating for days.

When you know more of her life you would be surprised that she was not bitter, but that is not a word she understood.  She married my great-grandfather and inherited a lot of work in the process since they ran a hotel for quite some time.  She was housekeeper for the hotel and cook for the accompanying restaurant.  One of my most treasured possessions is a "crumber" from the hotel.  It is basically a fancy dustpan with no handle.  It is painted with fancy designs and has a lacquer finish.  A long handled brush accompanies it, used to brush crumbs off the tables into the "crumber."  It reminds me of my loving grandmother.

She had four children, but one died too young because of a drunk driver.  Apparently she took it hard, but like with everything else she never let it dim her radiant spirit.

There is more I could tell you, after all, you can fit a lot into one hundred years, but this is just a blog not a book.  So, the last thought I will leave with you is about how much she loved.  I always felt loved in her presence and with her birthday cards and eating her snickerdoodle cookies.  It was so easy to love her because she loved so immensely.  Being the youngest in my family, when we would visit her the conversation would often be over my head, but I didn't care, I just loved to be in her presence.  And I will tell you I continue to feel that love from beyond the grave.  A couple of my children have had a great affinity for her, and they never met her in the flesh.  But they know she loves them; that is the power and immense circle of her love.