By Lizzy Christian 
As a child, I would close my eyes as tight as postpartum jeans and teleport myself to an alternate reality. As I lay on my pink flowery bed that held more stuffed animals than you can count, I would imagine just how magnificent life would be to have a grandma.
She would always share her cinnamon gum and let me wear her fancy high heels and decorate my lips with a plethora of wild lipstick colors.
She would show me old, faded photo albums and handmade cards my parents had made, beaming from the joy those tiny pieces of crumbled up and scribbled on paper brought her heart.
She would pick me up after school and take me shopping for the pinkest and glitteriest dresses and hair bows we could find. After all, she did believe I could be a real-life princess.
She would smell of vibrant red rose perfume, a scent that both relaxed me and awakened my senses every time she walked into the room.
She would sit in the front row pew for the Christmas programs at church and remind me to smile every time I got nervous and froze like a person standing outside in the dead of winter with no shoes on.
She would take me for a three-tiered, mouth-watering, mint chocolate chip ice cream cone after a seemingly unimportant milestone like losing my first tooth or signing up for a dance class.
She would excitedly sit next to my mom with the gaudiest and glitteriest signs with my name and jersey number at my basketball and soccer games, aiming to embarrass me and make me feel loved simultaneously.
She would share her top-secret pumpkin pie and famous macaroni and cheese recipes with me because she wanted them passed down to her great-grandchildren.
She would offer me a packet of Kleenex and pour wisdom into me after my first crush broke my heart.
She would be the first one to try to text message me when text messaging became a thing, and I would laugh out loud and say, “My grandma is the cutest.”
She would be busy in the kitchen with my mom preparing homemade birthday cakes and hanging festive “Happy Birthday” banners for every birthday because she knew another year of family being together was such a precious and underrated gift.
She would ask me intense and thought-provoking questions about the man I now call my husband when I started doting on the way he gave my stomach nervous butterflies for the first time.
She would have been at my wedding and been one of the first to kiss my cheek and whisper, “You are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen.” She would have also laughed at me while I tried to focus on not tripping down the aisle to say “I do” because she would have known my klutzy and nervous personality.
She would have shown up to the hospital to meet my first child and give me a pep talk about how much life was about to change in the very best way. She would have walked in with big, gaudy balloons that made it look like she was about to float away while telling me just how quickly the years go and to enjoy every moment.
She would tell me to keep slow dancing with my husband, take in all the baby snuggles, and soak up every bit of the little team my husband and I are raising.
However, life is not always what we dream. It is hardly ever picture-perfect like fairytales. Sometimes people do not have grandmas due to horrific diseases and unfortunate circumstances that took them from this earth too soon. And while I did not get to meet either one of my grandmas, I often find myself wondering how different life would have been if they were here. My mission is to be the kind of grandma I dreamed of having.
I cannot wait to take my granddaughter glittery dress shopping, tell my grandson about how crazy his father was as a little lad, and soak up every opportunity to have sleepovers and make homemade cookie messes with them.
I will be cheering them on at graduations, weddings, and baby showers—but also on the mundane days when life is just hard and tiring and they long for advice, a hug, and a coffee delivery at their door.
I promise to be the grandma who shows up in the cheering section with the over-the-top signs and the loudest voice every chance I get—but I also promise to be the grandma who is praying for her family and cheering for them even in the silence and trials of life.
by Kirstyn Wegner 
by Rachel Kosar 
by Holly Lemons 
