My two grandmothers were very different, but had some things in common. In addition to sharing two granddaughters (my sister and me), they were both widows for decades. Both my grandfathers died before I was born. My mother’s mother (Nana) lost her husband in her fifties and my father’s mother (Grammy) lost her husband in her late thirties. Neither one ever remarried, or even had a boyfriend, as far as I know.

They both helped raise some of their grandchildren. My uncle on my mother’s side lost his wife to breast cancer when his kids were very young. Nana eventually moved into the upstairs of their double-decker and helped raise my three cousins. Grammy moved out west to help one of my aunts with her six children after her first husband left (or was kicked out). When that aunt remarried and was back on her feet, Grammy moved in with another aunt back east and helped raise her three sons, while my aunt and uncle worked day and night in their grocery store.

The only grandkids that they didn’t help raise were me and my sister. They were just regular grandmothers to us, although Nana could be pretty strict. She was a kindergarten teacher, so she was always making us read. She was thin and artistic. She smoked. She painted. She had parakeets (Paddy and Billy) that she would let fly around her art studio and they would nibble at the wallpaper. She had beautiful lilacs in her yard in Worcester and an attic full of fashionable vintage dresses. She had a Brooklyn accent. She was cool.

Grammy was more Old World. She wore her hair in long braids twisted around her head and held in place with combs. She was a great cook. She made ravioli and other pasta and tomato sauce (“gravy”) from scratch and could fry things — like chicken, zucchini and French toast — so fluffily that they would melt in your mouth. She tended to wait on us and spoil us, whereas Nana would have us up and vacuuming, if we were sitting around too long.

Grammy could talk and talk forever, telling us stories about our cousins out west, whom we’d never met. She had a tendency to mix-up names. She’d sometimes cycle through one or two of my cousins’ names, before landing on mine.

Both were Catholic, but Grammy was a Democrat and Nana was more conservative, politically speaking. I think my parents were somewhat concerned about having them in the same room when Nixon resigned on TV (August 8, 1974). They were both at our house that night because it was my father’s 40th birthday.

I loved them both very much and I know they loved me too. They made me feel special. I was lucky to have them in my life for as long as I did.