What if I had a Greek Grandma?

I had two grandmothers that could not have been more polar opposites. Grandma Duffy (her last name was MacDuffee) thought I could do no wrong. I would spend weeks there during the summer and she would let me play in her makeup, dress up in her clothes and shoes, and never once said I couldn't touch something. She let me eat all the Captain Crunch cereal I wanted, and stay up way too late watching old black and white Dracula movies. She even had one of those exercise contraptions that had the big band you put around your waist and turned on to shimmy and shake you until you firmed up, you know what I mean? I'm sure it wasn't safe, but she just couldn't tell me "no". There was always a visit to Burger King at every trip just to get one of those cardboard crowns. She was always well manicured, her hair was beautiful and her skin was the smoothest I have ever seen even in her last days. Everyone needs someone who is your biggest fan, and she was that for me when I was growing up. I was glad when God mercifully took her from her suffering from emphysema, she deserved to be at peace. She taught me so much, but cooking and baking were not things she taught me.
I also had Mom Mom (pronounced Mum Mum to us), my dad's mother. She was a stoic German woman who came to America to escape Germany and I am sure she experienced horrors I can't even imagine. I used to love going to her house too. I think we always had an unspoken understanding. Even as a small child I knew that under all that "German" there was a heart of gold that loved me more than anything. I always had this desire to do something for her when I was around her because it seemed like she may have never had anyone to take care of her. My favorite memory of her is when she laughed. It always made me happy. It was a deep, from the belly laugh. She was an amazing cook and baker. She was as frugal as you would expect, and we still laugh about her turning the grapefruit inside out and making us eat the rind, so that we didn't waste anything. I'm pretty sure she used to put wine in my ginger ale too, just so I would take a good nap after Sunday dinner. God mercifully took her too. She never taught me how to cook or bake either.
We were at the Strip in Pittsburgh this weekend and I bought some baklava from an adorable Greek woman and it got me thinking about what it would have been like to have a Greek grandma. Now that is a grandma that would teach me to cook and bake like no one's business. I imagine that they start when you are young with including the young girls in making all the phyllo dough, delicious fillings for all the pastries, and just the experience of a close knit heritage like that. Heck you even get to throw plates and break them at some point, right? I bet there are some Greek women my age that would have loved it if they had had my grandmas. I have special memories. I thank them both for that.