In a look at her heritage, woman finds her story

Being in the fourth generation of women in my family, I decided to do some investigative reporting into my history, especially my female heritage with Women's History Month upon us.

A 5-foot-2-inch, warm-hearted woman, my great grandmother, Grandma II, stands in her kitchen, kneading the dough she uses to make her Polish specialty, pierogies, as she shares her past.

Grandma II battled the depression era and poverty. As a child, she did not receive much of an education and was put to work at the age of 14 -- on assembly lines of cigar, shoe and flag factories.

Married at the age of 15, she and her husband, Stanley, raised four children -- Raymond, Stanley, Emily and Danny. Three deaths forced Grandma II to experience much sorrow and heartache -- losing Raymond when he was 3 months old to a blood disorder, Danny to leukemia when he was 14 and my grandfather to tuberculosis. Her long-term goal of owning her home began to look dismal until Stanley passed away, and she moved to Toms River with my grandmother in the 1980s.

With family ties that bind her heart and soul, Grandma II takes complete pride in my sister and me. When she shares her bedtime stories and Polish songs with us, a smile that could light the world comes over her face. And although time may be slowing down this normally fast-paced woman, it can not stop the love, warmth and energy that flows within her.

Wearing an apron while ironing my sister's jeans, my grandmother, Emily, is literally a sight for sore eyes. She juggles: living her own life, assisting Grandma II with arthritis and heart complications and helping maintain my house.

Though she was unable to receive a college education, she believes that if the funding were available, she would have become a teacher. After completing high school, she worked as a secretary and office manager and married her husband, Emil, at 18.

At first, Emil was a picture-perfect husband, but as time evolved, he became a man not ready for marriage or responsibilities. Emily decided to face reality and disregard Emil from her life. Having to single-handedly raise her daughter, Emily did the best job she possibly could. Though she could not provide the material luxuries of life, she offered my mother opportunities that she never had.

An adhesive bond bound Uncle Stanley and Emily and following his death, a chunk of her heart was missing. Determined to overcome his death, she ventured to Toms River with Grandma II to share a home, where she resides today. Retired from professional work but not from the duties that occupy her time today, I still can not understand how she accomplishes it all and manages to stand on both feet when the day is finally done.

At the desk of Toms River Preschool Handicap sits the epitome of womanhood -- my mother, Diane. A product of a single woman household, my mother accepted life and was content with every aspect of it -- never showing any sign of disappointment and making a smile a routine part of her wardrobe. Mom attended Fairleigh Dickinson University, making her the first woman in the family to graduate college. She aspired to continue her education while working as a registered nurse.

After college, she married my father, Art. For years, she worked in a hospital setting until I was conceived and then returned to receive her school nursing certification. She accomplished anything she set her mind to -- a trait I admire and hope I have inherited.

Two events are stained in my memory that have added to my respect for my mother -- her reaction when her children are hurt or ill and her divorce. During a time in my life when I was bedridden in the hospital, she slept night after night for almost two years in a recliner beside my bed, grasping my hand and saying her prayers for my recovery.

The incident that has mostly affected her is divorcing Art. Art declined in his duties as husband and father over the years and caused much turmoil in everyone's lives -- becoming self-consumed and oblivious to the needs of others. After years of dealing with his absent qualities and hoping for a miracle, she had no other option but to divorce him.

My mother now manages to pay all of our household bills; pay for all the necessities in life for herself, my sister and I and help put me through college. In addition, she works as a school nurse for Walnut Street Elementary School and preschool, heads our household and is raising me and my adolescent sister, Michelle. I can not possibly begin to sing enough praises to do this woman justice.

A treasured family heirloom can be passed on from generation to generation. Or, you can visit a place that may be a bit more familiar to you, home, and get to know the women you thought you had the utmost admiration before exploring your heritage. What you may discover could open your mind to a story that has been downplayed in the past -- her story.