Women Who Inspire: Grandma Marjie
By Julie Tymorek
Julie, Elle’s receptionist, is a student of psychotherapy, and reflects in this blog on her grandmother’s strength and beautiful eccentricities.
My grandma Marjie is a force to be reckoned with. On summer family trips to Colorado, my grandma would speed up mountain sides faster than my little legs could carry me, leaving all of us in the dust. At the top, we’d find her waiting impatiently, snacking on an organic apple (yes, she was into organic way before it was trendy). Giving us barely a chance to rest, she would take a deep breath of fresh mountain air and set off again in search of the next path. Back in Chicago, where she called home her entire life, she would drag us grandkids to exhibits at the Art Institute, avante garde theater, and the hottest new opera. Nevermind that we would have rather been watching MTV back at home or visiting Nike Town on Michigan Ave. My Grandma was a firm believer in exposing, some might say forcing, us to the arts, literature, politics, and the benefits of a brisk walk and organic apple.
As I got older, I remember learning that my Grandma was not like other grandmothers. Other grandmas didn’t ice skate their way through their late 70s? Other grandmas didn’t take fastidious notes on the PBS Newshour while sipping gin martinis? Other grandmas didn’t protest for environmental rights and have the family calculate their environmental footprint as a fun Christmas activity? Other grandmas didn’t house exchange students from all over the world for over 40 years? Other grandmas didn’t get honored by the League of Women Voters and get “crowned” as the neighborhood’s “best recycler” in a parade? It turned out most other grandmothers welcomed their grandkids home with warm cookies. Mine waited at the dinner table with me for hours me to get me to eat my carrots and sent me articles in the mail on scurvy.
When my Grandma was diagnosed with Parkinson’s nine years ago, we were all shocked. How could the healthiest, strongest woman we know be sick? She showed no symptoms: she consistently kicked all of our butts in Scrabble, rode her bike all over town, and regularly scheduled days that had her flitting from her Spanish book club to the Museum of Contemporary Art to a nightcap at the Harris Theater. Unfortunately, as the years went on, the disease progressed. It has been painful to watch her slow deterioration. The involuntary movements have increased, she’s lost an incredible amount of weight and muscle mass, she has bouts of difficulty breathing, and her thoughts are becoming a bit scattered.
But no person, or disease, has ever been able to tell my Grandma to slow down. She has since joined a Parkinson’s dance group at Hubbard Street dance company, taken up improv at Second City, and recently volunteered to be a participant in Parkinson’s research at Northwestern Hospital. She still climbs aboard the Michigan Avenue Express bus daily to visit her museums and attend theater.
My relationship has not always been easy with my Grandma. She is headstrong, determined, moves at a kind of pace few can keep up with, and has no patience for frivolousness, of which I have in spades. Even so, few people inspire me more and have had more of an impact on the woman I am today and hope to be one day. Her dedication to instilling in us a love of literature, arts, nature, health, and educating us about our civic and humanitarian duty has reverberated through the generations in our family. I have so much to be grateful to her for and so much still to learn from her. Namely, how to age with grace and strength and to nurture a lifelong dedication to curiosity and learning.
—
Do you have a story of an inspiring woman that you can share with us? Maybe your own mother or a different woman whose influence has touched your life? We’d love to hear it, and—with your permission—share stories of other inspiring women all month long. Share your story with us here.
Comments are closed.