My Memere, Julie Michaud

My Memere passed away on Sunday. (Memere is the French word for Grandma, pronounced meh-MAY). I was very close to her growing up. She had a wonderful, long life dedicated to her big family (9 children and 18 grandchildren!) and her home sewing business. She was the quintessential nurturing grandma. Sadly, I wasn't able to attend her service back in Connecticut this week but here's something I wrote in the Hartford Courant's online obituary:

I grew up with two Grandmas- both very strong women in their own ways. One wore a hard hat to work, the other, Memere, baked and sewed. I enjoyed that they were on two ends of the spectrum.

My sister Ashley and I spent a lot of time at Memere and Pepere's house growing up. For years, our parents dropped us off on Saturday nights so they could go dancing in Hartford with friends. Memere let us drink chocolate milk and eat slices of American cheese. We thought we'd gone to heaven. Memere sat in her rocker sewing, Pepere in his recliner snoring, and the t.v. was a constant companion. In the winter, a fire crackled all night. In the warmer months, we'd come and go to Molly and Marshall's house across the back yard.

Memere let us be curious, energetic kids. She let us rummage through her tin bucket of buttons and play store with her fabric scraps. She was so tolerant and forgiving, although once in a while she'd raise her voice. Her love was drawn from an endless well. As a parent, I hope to have a fraction of the patience she had with all of us. We love you Memere.