I miss my grandmother. We called her Boscia. At one point it was supposed to be spelled and pronounced like the Polish word for grandmother, but little kids can't get anything right, so Boscia it became. When she met my grandfather they were working at an automobile factory. My grandfather was a pretty cocky youngster, so he bought two tickets to the firemen's ball, and asked Boscia to attend. However, since my grandfather's father was the owner of the plant, there were several men with the same last name. Boscia thought he was one of the married one's, as she was just a line worker and didn't know all of them well or how many there were. So she told him to go ask his wife. Well, a few minutes of awkward explaining and another employee bringing over the married relative of my grandfather, Boscia was in no place to disincline his request, so she said yes. This was right at the time when the Korean conflict was getting underway. My grandfather knew he would be drafted, so he asked my Boscia to marry him when they hadn't even been dating for six months. They were almost married 60 years before she passed away. My mom was their youngest child. She was eight years behind the rest. When Boscia told my grandfather she had something important to tell him so he had to sit down, the first thing he thought about was that she wrecked the car. He is a carnut. Instead, it was that they were having another baby. I was an oops too, which it why I spent the first six years of my life living with my Boscia. My grandfather was around too, but he had had enough with children and did a lot of odd jobs after retiring from the auto industry. He got into the real estate business with a close buddy and together they restored 32 houses before calling it quits. But those six years I spent with Boscia were amazing. She was a wonderful woman and the perfect mother. My biological mother worked all the time so she could afford to eventually buy a house of her own. In the morning I would wake up with Boscia and we would work together to make breakfast and pack a lunch for my grandfather. She already have her hair in curlers. When my grandfather went into their room to dress for the day she'd slip back in and take them out and style her hair for him and do her make up. She never let him see her without it. Then I'd watch cartoons and when the dishes were done I'd help dry them and put them away. After that there were plenty of other chores, but she made them fun. She would sing all the time too. Old songs and kid songs. I miss her voice so much. My favorite chores were either laundry or vacuuming. When we switched the clothes to the dry in the cold months, she'd toss the wet clothes to me and I'd have my arms out stick straight at my sides. I pretended they were moose antlers and I was catching laundry on them. When they were too heavy, I'd turn and the cold laundry would slip right off my arms and into the dryer. Vacuuming was fun for two reasons. My grandfather bought her one of the short long flat vacuums on wheels, with a long hose with many attachments. I liked riding on top of it. But the best part was the cord. It was coiled inside the machine itself you you pulled and pulled until you had the length out you wanted. Then, when it was unplugged, you depressed a button and the cord zoomed back inside. You had to be careful otherwise the metal prongs might hit you as it was too fast to be perfectly safe. Of course Boscia always had time to play too. She let me use her and the girls old slips and dresses to play princess and paupers. She taught me a wide array of words by letting me work out crossword puzzles with her. She even taught me card games like Rummy. Even when my mom bought her own place, I spend a lot of my time at my grandparents house. I will always consider that house home. Boscia taught me baking and cooking. She took me shopping for my first bra. She never let me down. I miss my Boscia, but nothing that is good can last forever. She passed away the first day I started college. I keep going for her. She was one of the purest souls I know. The rest of my family is pretty religious, so, on the anniversary of her death, my crafty cousin gave each of us women a bracelet. On it was an image of Boscia and the letters WWBD, meaning What Would Boscia Do? She always made the right decisions that usually benefited everyone around her. She was truly altruistic, and I hope to be, in many ways, just like her.