R. I. P. Valeska Niedzwiecki
Last night, at about 3am, my grandmother passed away. She would have been one hundred years old in April.
When I hear the word "matriarch," I invariably think of her. With her no-nonsense attitude and perpetual sense of humor, she kept her corner of the Niedzwiecki clan together, not with a stern word and an iron fist, but with a chuckle and a well-aimed witticism. She was sharp up until the very end, doing what she wanted how she wanted to do it. We should all be so lucky to live a life as full as hers on our own terms.
Rest in peace, Machute. You will be missed terribly.
When I hear the word "matriarch," I invariably think of her. With her no-nonsense attitude and perpetual sense of humor, she kept her corner of the Niedzwiecki clan together, not with a stern word and an iron fist, but with a chuckle and a well-aimed witticism. She was sharp up until the very end, doing what she wanted how she wanted to do it. We should all be so lucky to live a life as full as hers on our own terms.
Rest in peace, Machute. You will be missed terribly.