This is my grandmother, the namesake of the main character in Gladwynn Grant Gets Her Footing.

My grandmother’s middle name was actually Gladwyn or Gladwin, we aren’t exactly sure of the spelling because it is spelled different ways on different documents. I like how Gladwynn looked when I wrote it, though, so that’s what I named my character.

Also, after she got married, Grandma was a Robinson, not a Grant, but I liked the name Gladwynn Grant more. Alliteration and all that.

Why did I base the main character of my cozy mystery series on my grandmother?

One, I love the name. Two, my grandmother had spunk.

My grandmother didn’t often show her emotions outwardly.

She wasn’t super affectionate.

She wasn’t necessarily sentimental.

She wasn’t a jokester and I don’t know that I’d call her vivacious.

These are all things I could use to describe my Gladwynn.

I could use other words to describe Gladwynn that I have also used to describe Grandma: determined, bold, and resilient.

My grandmother was born in 1909. She lived through the Great Depression, two world wars, and many other wars and tragedies. Her only sister, her only sibling, ended up in a mental hospital late in life after being diagnosed with schizophrenia. She lost her husband thirty-four years before she passed away.

She developed macular degeneration in her 80s and almost completely lost her eyesight, but didn’t let that stop her. She found ways to help her see better, and found a machine to enlarge the print for her so she could read the newspaper or write checks. She went out to dinner with family and she loved her family in her own special way.

She was quiet, reserved, and subtle, but also never backed down, never gave up, and never stopped living life to the fullest.

She passed away two weeks before her 94^th birthday from a heart condition that doctors were amazed she’d lived with for so long.

That condition didn’t show up until her 90s, despite years of battling high blood pressure. She was tiny and spry and right up until a few weeks (maybe a few days?) before she passed away she was able to squat down to look at her TV and bounce right back up again like she had the legs and knees of a 20-year-old.

When I took this photo she was out in her backyard, cleaning out a ditch with some kind of gardening tool. She was wearing a pair of gardening gloves and sitting on her bottom, a position she’d gotten into all by herself. I can’t remember her age here. Maybe 88?

All I know is that this is the version of Ula Gladwynn Grant Robinson that I love to remember. Even though she wasn’t always open with her feelings, she did enjoy laughing, she smiled and she, on occasion, even told me she loved me.

I miss her, and my maternal grandmother, terribly, but I will do my best to keep them alive in my memories, my heart, and my stories.