The world became brighter the day that Janet Isenhour was born. I wonder if her parents, my great grandparents, knew just how lucky they were on the day that she came into the world. I imagine that she smiled when she caught her first glimpses of the world, her tiny eyes enraptured by the ravishing colors that she saw for the very first time. I imagine that the nurses wrapped her up and handed her to her mother, quickly moving on to their next tasks and not realizing that they had just held one of the most amazing women to ever walk the Earth in their arms.

I imagine that she grew up with a love for education and an appreciation for art, never failing to see beauty where others could not. I imagine that her dedication to learning pleased her father, as well as her unwavering commitment to God despite difficult circumstances. I imagine that her modesty carried her through life, never allowing others to see just how talented she was. I imagine that my grandfather had a difficult time winning her strong, unwavering heart.

I imagine how beautiful she must have looked on her wedding day, her striking red hair standing out so prominently against the white of her gown as she walked down the isle to my grandfather, who knew better than anyone that his soon to be wife was the greatest woman he could have ever hoped to win over. I imagine how lovingly she cared for her three children, teaching them right from wrong and focusing on their accomplishments rather than their mistakes. I imagine that she never chose favorites, distributing her love to her family equally and intelligently using the resources that she had on a limited budget. I imagine that she must have assisted with hundreds of homework assignments, cooked thousands of meals, and watched her children grow up so quickly before her very eyes.

I imagine that she made my mother feel welcome when my dad brought her home for the first time. Perhaps she was elated that Brian, her middle child, appeared to be becoming more of an adult every day. Maybe it broke her heart. I imagine that she prayed for my mother every night, hoping and wishing that her life end up with as much love as she had in her own. I can imagine the smile that she must have had when my mother announced her pregnancy, the same bright smile that I've grown up seeing so often.

I remember growing up thinking that my Nana was the wisest woman on the planet. I remember her teaching me to cook and play the piano (although I never caught on). I remember her reading me bedtime stories when I would spend the night at her house (always C.S. Lewis) and braiding my hair whenever I requested. I remember her driving me to and from play rehearsals and taking me on camping trip after camping trip.

I remember my Nana telling me about my baby cousin that I never got the opportunity to properly meet. I remember the look of longing in her eyes as she spoke of Baby Jenna. I remember how she beat cancer again and again and again and never allowed anyone to feel sorry for her. I remember how defenseless she felt as she watched her eldest son, Dwayne, slowly pass away. I remember how she turned to God for answers and radiated strength despite the worst of circumstances. I remember how she cried every Sunday in church, but quickly collected herself before the end of the service. I remember how she led her daughter through her second pregnancy, preparing our family for one of the biggest blessings that we could have ever hoped for. I remember sitting in my father's hospital room after his accident in 2015 and silently praying for the preservation of his life, watching as she stood by his side and gave him permission to go. I remember how she picked up our family's fragmented pieces and pieced back together what was already so broken.

My grandmother is the closest thing that planet Earth will ever get to a true Wonder Woman. Never before have I met someone with such an artistic view of the world. Through her eyes, every sunrise is a blessing and becomes even more beautiful when painted on canvas by her hand. She radiates strength with every step and contributes to the world with every spoken word. She is never negative, only constructive. She is the biblical definition of love - for she is more patient and more kind than anyone that has ever crossed my path. She is never short of company and her phone almost never stops ringing, simply because one taste of her advice will leave you starving for more. If you have ever had the pleasure of meeting my grandmother personally, I'm sure that you understand how amazing she is. If you have not, I pray that you get the opportunity to speak to her at least once in your lifetime. I promise that even the smallest of conversations with Wonder Woman is well worth your while.