When I think of Grammy, I think of her garden, the strawberry patch, her wonderful dill pickles, her pie crust, and that special raisin spice cake.
I remember a woman who worked with the men in the fields during haying season, and fed us dinner at noon and supper at night, all in the same day. Grammy loved each of us in her special callused and rugged way, 'cause we were family. She was never a cookie-baking, soft lap grandma the way Nanny had been, but she had her own special brand of loving. She taught me to pick only the ripest, best strawberries in her patch, to hull them with my thumbnail and then smash them with just the right amount of sugar, Other grandmas cooked shortcake for their strawberries ...Grammy simply spooned those delicious berries over a thick slab of her homemade white bread.
And Grammy's dill pickles were breath-takingly tart; my throat constricts and my mouth waters just remembering that first bite. Her pickles have always been my gold medal standard ...tart, tangy and sharp, just like Grammy. I loved 'em.
I called Grammy for her pie crust recipe the first time I made a pie, and thanks to her I can make a perfect crust. Her recipe --a pinch of salt, 1/2 as much lard as flour (and use only lard) and just enough water to make it the right texture (about 1/2 as much water as lard). The secret is to refrigerate everything, including your bowl and utensils, and to work the crust quickly to keep it flaky.
Her raisin spice cake was one of my family gathering favorites --and somewhere I still have her recipe.
And more of my favorite special "Grammy" memories:
I started my entrance into the world in Grammy's bed, and for decades she showed me the spot on her mattress where my mom's water broke.
Those special flapper girl dresses from the Roaring 20's hanging in the big upstairs closet at the farm. They reminded me that Grammy really was young once!
Our many family childhood trips to Bruce to visit family, sometimes help with the haying, and stay at Grammy's.
One extra special trip when the out-of-town cousins and moms (Lillian and my mom) slept in the haymow in the barn. We kids loved it; I suspect our mothers were very aware that their husbands slept in comfortable beds that night! [Note: Lillian later told me that our beagle puppy Pat peed on her feet that night in the haymow!]
Pamper, the brilliant cat that Grammy trained to vacuum herself. (My cats all run in terror when I turn the vacuum on.)
Sandy, the smiling collie who greeted us each time we visited the farm.
And there was Grammy's medical wisdom --For years, I believed a trip to a chiropractor would cure anything that ailed me; Grammy was the first person in my life to explore alternative medicine.
And one childhood memory that was my family's secret for years ...When I was about 8 years old, I drove Grammy & Gramps' tractor from their barn to their garage and almost through the garage wall! At Grammy's request, Dad quietly repaired the tractor, and the three of us agreed to not tell Gramps or Mom, 'cause they'd be really pissed! Years later Grammy and I compared notes about how it happened. She remembered that she only let me drive because I begged her to do it! I remember that she talked me into it ...my little cousin Tommy was driving a tractor, and if he was big enough to do it, so was her oldest granddaughter. In hindsight, I think Grammy may have been a closet feminist.
Grammy was a tough old bird. In my opinion, there was nothing gentle about her, and she never hesitated to tell her special version of the "honest truth." As she told me, family are the only people who love you enough to tell you what no one else will. Ouch!
Grammy taught herself oil-painting when she was in her 40's, and she was an excellent and prolific painter. As we all know, her paintings won many prizes in shows throughout the state. Many of us have a special part of Grammy hanging on our walls. Her self-taught paintings taught me that I will never be too old to learn or to grow. [Note: I discovered later that Grammy started painting at 50.]
Her failing eyesight finally forced her to put down her paint brush and chalks about ten years ago; as family we grieved the loss --Grammy just kept on keeping on.
When I became an adult, Grammy became special to me in a different way. She was always delighted to see me and to hear from me, she accepted me just as I was, and she helped me know that I was loved. In my late teens and throughout my twenties, sometimes it seemed like Grammy was the only person in the world who loved me and believed in me, and, because she believed in me, I learned to believe in myself. For me, Grammy's love has made all the difference.
My adult memories of Grammy include:
Her wonderful white hair; all my life I've heard rumors that she was a redhead like Cousin Cindy, but all I ever knew was her beautiful white hair.
Discussions with Grammy about our family tree ...Many years ago, Grammy told me that in some distant way I was related to the Royal Danish Wing Family. I decided that must mean that I was blue blood, sort of. The horse thief who was hung for his crimes and the uncle that groped Grammy when she was a child just give the family tree a little spice.
Grammy had surgery in her 70's to repair her bad hip, and you know I never heard her complain that the surgery was not successful. And yet she wasn't too reserved to complain about anything else! What a woman!
The last memory I'll leave with you is Grammy climbing her stepladder and crawling around on the roof of her trailer, to repair a leaky roof ...at the age of 80!! When I'm 80, I'm going to climb a roof and salute my Grammy.
Grammy has taught me to live honestly, well and fully, and I love her for it. If I become a curmudgeon when I am old, I'll smile and blame it on Grammy.