Early Makjang Monday (because I work tomorrow)


    Family lore has it that my great grandfather immigrated to the US from Germany to escape a murder charge. On the boat over he met my great grandmother, and they proceeded to have twelve children, eleven of which were daughters.

    He was a violent drunk, and a not very successful farmer.

    My grandmother was the second (or third?) eldest, and worked through highschool in order to provide food, clothes, and schooling for the younger children.

    My grandfather dated her older sister in highschool, before meeting her and deciding she was the better sister (my grandmother was known for her intelligence and loyalty, my great aunt for her, ahem, infamous number of “rolls in the hay”).

    My grandmother worked to put my grandfather through university, the first in their small town to go. They had a deal that he would do the same after getting his degree. Too bad he got her pregnant during his last term (my mother thinks it was intentional so that he could be better than her with his higher education).

    They still managed to own a gas station, a nursing home, and various other properties that made them the prosperous couple in that small town. My grandfather also worked as a school teacher, while my grandmother managed all the paperwork.

    My grandfather however had many affairs, with both employees at their businesses and students. It even turned out he had a hidden second family with a previous secretary. My mom tells the story of my grandmother getting suspicious and following her husband to his lover’s house (that he had paid for from a secret account). After my grandparents dramatically split up, my grandfather’s house became known as the den of iniquity in that small town, where one could procure drugs, sex, or alcohol at any time.

    My grandmother died suddenly of a heart attack when she was still young. It was widely known that, despite the public shame of the divorce (which back in the 1970s put all the blame on the wife), and his awful treatment of her (he still came to her when he needed money up until the day she died), she loved him and only him until her last breath.

    The daughter of a murderer, the devoted wife of an abuser. I never met my grandmother, she died too early for that, but she was famous for her humor, her crafting, her love of soap operas, her loyal heart, and the sparkle that never left her eyes. If ever there was a tragic heroine of a makjang, it would be her.


      Super Makjang Monday. She sounds like she was a force to be reckoned with and I’m sad she didn’t live long enough to accumulate all the businesses in town.


      I think I should say “what a strong, powerful woman” rather than “men suck” and so I will. Really, the things women have come through with a smile on their face and a twinkle in their eye is extraordinary.


      Wow. I’m in awe of the strength I see in these stories. It’s a testament to you to come from such a grandmother. I hope you meet her someday in the afterlife.


      Somebody else I know has a sparkle in her eyes, loves crafting, and watches a different sort of soap opera. I think your grandma would like you, but you won’t have the tragic makjang story, and I’m sure this would please her a great deal.

      If I could time travel, I think I would go back and deal with the men who make women’s lives so difficult.


      The women folk always come through don’t they? Amazing!


    I might delete this later, because, however makjang a story this is, it’s still a true story.


    It’s Monday here, btw. You’ re not early for me.