Once A Cowboy came out in February and I received mail about the sexy cowboy on the cover. Yes, he was sexy! But I also received mail wanting to know if my grandmother was like Naddy in the book.
No, absolutely not. She was just the opposite. And since readers have asked, I’ll tell you about her. And if you have a colorful character in your life, please share. They make our life interesting and fun.
My grandmother, my mother’s mother, was a devout Polish Catholic and she lived with us. She prayed in Polish and as kids my brothers and I tried to be very good around her. We didn’t want her talking to God about us in a language we didn’t understand. Every Sunday at seven a.m. we were in church for mass. My grandmother had her special seat, on the end of the row and my brothers and I jockeyed not to sit by her. I somehow always got squeezed in by Grandma.
We loved our grandmother, but she was very strict about church. You had to stay awake. We played hard on Saturdays and getting up at 5:30 a.m. to go to church was difficult for little kids. Every time I would doze off my grandmother would pinch my cheek. Hard. My right cheek was numb most of my growing up years.
She passed away when I was seventeen-years-old and I can remember her funeral vividly. It was late October, cool and drizzling rain. I remember standing in the light rain and wishing she’d pinch my cheek one more time. It was the first time I became aware of death and it’s finality.
Wherever Grandma is she’s praying in Polish and probably shaking her head at my romance novels. I’m not sure what she would think of them. She’d probably pinch my cheek.