Grandma

Although four years have passed since Grandma fell, I was not prepared for the grief I am experiencing, most of which began on the return flight to New York. The quiet of the flight allowed me to finally begin to think and remember. I am not going to lie, Grandma was a tough woman. She was very strong in her beliefs, I would always try to avoid conversations about religion and politics. She was one of the few people who didn't like JFK, but she LOVED Ronald Reagan. She was very smart when it came to money, I think she knew every state and federal tax law. She was a great cook and wonderful baker. We all loved her chicken and noodles, which New Yorkers do not understand, noodles on top of mashed potatoes, a starch on a starch does not make sense. Grandmas' jelly and nut bread were always in hand after a visit. As children, she would bake our favorite cake for our birthday, then the entire family would have dinner at her house. Gathering her family was very important to her and she would be very upset if one did not attend.

Grandma taught me many things; the art of entertaining, the proper way to put on pantyhose (I was surprised to find out how many of my friends didn't know the correct way), the importance of family, how to set a table, to enter a room after your elders (I learned that the hard way somewhere in Tennessee), the importance of manners and thank you notes, and how to sew.

Grandma was an incredible seamstress and made many of our clothes and coats. My favorite coat was a camel coat that matched my Grandfathers. All of her creations were made in a small sewing room on the second floor tucked away in the rear of the house. I loved that room, it was packed full of sewing accessories. A large chest with three drawers held her scrap material and all of her patterns. She would fold them up and return them to the package when she finished her project which is not an easy task. There were countless spools of thread in every color, hundreds of buttons and miles of ribbon and rick rack. The sewing room was one of the few places I didn't get in trouble. My first real sewing project was a gift I made for my mother, Grandma and I kept it a secret until Christmas. The gift was made from a scrap piece of green and white check, seersucker gingham fabric. I stitched about ten squares each with different colored thread and Grandma stitched my name and the year, 1975. She had the fabric framed and I gave it to mom for Christmas. I was so proud of that gift, I worked really hard threading the needle each time I changed a color. I have sewn many different projects since then and I always think of Grandma when I am sewing.