Tribute to My Grandmother

In honor of Mother's Day, I am going to post this tribute I wrote many years ago about my grandmother, my mother's mother, a woman who died when my mother was 11, but who's spirit lives on inside her and me -- and if I am really lucky, my children too.

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Ellinwood Kansas was the heart of the heartland. You could stand on my grandmother’s porch and see miles of wheat fields rolling over gently sloping hills. Ellinwood is as small as it gets; no one locks their doors, they leave their keys in their cars and you will see children playing outside long after dark. When I visited Ellinwood in the summers of my childhood, I was in awe of their Harvest Festival and amazed by the number of people who stopped me in the street to ask me if I was a “Herter”. Generations of my family grew up in that small town, and still live there today, but it was the one woman from Ellinwood that I never met who's memory inspires my advocacy even today.