What kind of grand-person will I be when I grow up ? I’m not a mathematical formula kind of gal, but I do have a self-designed AI geri-magic-machine that inputs all my personal observations of older women, parses them all out into special categories and processes these data into a Weird Science-like template for being a lovable Golden Girl. For example, I want to put others first always like my friend, Suzanne, write keeper letters like Grandmother and show up when it matters, like my grandmother Bobbie. On the flipside, I won’t hoard things and be demanding like my Aunt Bess or smoke in the garage like some relatives I adore. Learning from and modeling others is a grand practice that yields, repackages and repurposes everyone’s very best.

Still, I wonder what I might have learned from my mother, who died when she was 51. Even more, I wonder what kind of older lady she might have been if things were different.

So I’m going to imagine it. Here goes:

• Bobbie Ann Person would have DEF been a natural ager and embraced her wrinkles and grey hair and sunspots. She would have rather choked herself than spend money on botox or fillers or plastic surgery of any kind because, one, it’s expensive and you can’t buy that stuff at Solo Serve or in the “irregular” section of the store and two, she would never want to dampen the natural shine God gave her.
• She would wear comfy clothes and SAS shoes and be a squishy, huggable grandma who would rub your back with her whole hand during a long embrace.
• She would be an “I-love-you” older person.
• Bobbie Ann Person would be a slacks and muumuus kind of fashionista she was never focused on showing off her body, just on being radiant.
• She would get up early and make breakfast for everyone when she visited, and remember what everyone’s favorite morning yummies were.
• She would listen and help the young people in her life see the other side of the argument, or how someone else may be feeling. She’d be good at encouraging folks to walk in someone else’s shoes without pissing them off or making them feel like she wasn’t being supportive of her people.
• She would plan stuff. We would know months ahead of time when grandma was coming to visit and where we were all getting together next. Family trips and gatherings would be a priority. She would come stay at the house for a week with the littles and the animal mayhem so the young parents in her life could get away for some rest. She’d DEF drive carpool.
• Bobbie Ann Person would be a scripture-sender and she would have mastered key communication technology to facilitate this activity. She would text things like “I’m thinking of you” and “I love you” and “I know this is a big day for you, praying for you” etc etc etc. She’d be the master of text support.
• She would be an expert and low-key gift-giver. Her thoughtfulness would have no limits.
• She would be the grandma who doesn’t sing great, but loves to belt out hymns at church.
• She would be kind words and support only. She would prefer the servant role over all others.
• Bobbie Ann Person would know when it was time to make life changes.

Maybe this is fantasy. Maybe if Mom was still living, she’d be annoying with her scripture-sending and pushy about her trip-planning. Maybe I’d be wrecked with frustration about some of her less desirable traits. Worse, maybe she’d get really sick and need care and support for a very long, grueling time. Maybe Mom would be a crappy grandma, who knows. But imagining the very best version of her, even if it’s more like reality television than actual reality, makes her a beacon on my horizon — shining brightly for me to follow, model and become.