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When I was a kid my Gigi would come and pick me up on Friday afternoon, so I could go to the high school football game with her and my aunt. My aunt was 9 yrs older than I was.
We'd get home from the football game have a snack and off to bed we'd go. I always slept with my aunt. She was so patient with me, I'm sure I must have had more questions than Trivial Pursuit. As we lay in bed, she would try to ware me down by playing this game. She'd use her fingernail and write a letter on my back and I'd guess what it was, as I began to read she would write small words on my back for me to spell and guess and eventually she would write numbers or have me add numbers she wrote on my back. And yes I'd eventually fall asleep, and I'm sure she was glad when I did. She became a grandma for the first time this past Monday and as fate would have it that would have been her mother, my Gigi's 85th birthday had she lived, and it was a little girl. I know she will be a super duper wonderful grandma. |
grinding the fresh beef at my Grandma's
strange woman, my Grandma. |
Spending each and every moment with my grandmother.
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Something I've thought a lot about lately...
Luckily, I was able to spend a great deal of time with my grandparents. Months at a time. Things were easy there, organized, clean - it all just made sense. No chaos. No drinking. No fighting. My brother and I were kind of treasured, like a reason to do all the things that they would do anyway. I don’t know how to put that into words exactly. Time spent, spending time. Enjoying each other.
They were fond of walking. When they got home from work, we would eat dinner and then always go for a walk. (Unless it was snowing.) The things we discovered on those walks were amazing. So many turtles, hawks, snakes, boats, fish and those weird brown things that puff into smoke when you step on them. I wish I had a dollar for every dandelion bulb or bubble that was blown. The whole point was to see everything you could, walk as far as possible and collect all the pretty rocks along the way. They were fond of music and dancing. We learned how to square dance, polka, waltz, jitterbug, the Charleston, swing and Lindy Hop. I know all the words to The Three Little Fishes and the Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy. I can tell if I’m hearing Tommy Dorsey or Glenn Miller. I know that “The Shadow knows.” My grandfather always called me meisje and tried, to teach us all the Dutch he knew. (sigh) We watched the news, MASH, CHIPS, The Muppets, 60 Minutes, Magnum PI and Hee-Haw. Every single year for 12 years they took us to the State Fair, the pumpkin farm, and to pick strawberries. On Saturdays we went for daylong drives to nowhere and learned important things like where they sold the best chili dogs, how the 60s screwed up the world and to always dress like you had somewhere to go. We spent a lot of time in creeks and swimming holes too. Hours were spent turning over rocks looking for baby lobsters. (I was seriously upset the first time I heard someone call them crawfish.) We would sit in the yard because the sun was out. We’d put little bags in jar full of water where it would somehow magically turn into iced tea - every single time. Hours of pouring over old pictures. Sundays were spent watching football, baseball or playing rummy, 21, or spit. So much fun and laughter. I wish so badly that I could turn the damn hourglass over. |
I had a little white basket on my bike and I would ask my mother to give me things to put in it. I just hated when it was empty. I would pedal down my street begging any adult who was outside, for something to put in my basket. This sweet old lady named Mrs. Jenkins would bake special treats just for me. Like cookies or muffins. I actually thought she was Mrs. Santa Claus just pretending to be Mrs. Jenkins so no one would know. We would have a tea party on her front porch. She let me drink real hot tea.When I would head off to play again, she would wrap some cookies up in wax paper for me to eat while I played. It was always a mystery to my mother why I was never hungry for my lunch.
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There was a sweet old woman for me too. I used to sell pictures I had drawn and colored to my neighbors for $.05 - $.50. She always bought my pictures, invited me in, gave me hot tea & cookies.
When I got a little older, she would come and get me for our tea parties. She taught me to crotchet, cook, clean, iron, sew and many other little lessons that my mother had not taught me (my mom & dad worked full time and neither are domestic). Her husband was also a gentle soul, who taught me carpentry and introduced me to what the true meaning of chivalrous is. |
I have a sweet older woman story as well.
There was this woman that lived behind my house and she was just precious. Mom and Dad watched out for her and she had a key to our house. Mom says many times she would come home from work and Effie would be there with a dinner prepared. She was just an angel. I remember once, i think i was around 4ish, i was playing with my doll in the living room. I believe it was called "baby first-step", anyway, the doll had beautiful long blonde hair and i was brushing it. Effie commented on how pretty the doll's hair was. I remember my face burning and felt it turn red. I told her that mom had cut off some of my hair and glued it to the doll. I do believe it was my first little lie because i will never forget how that moment felt. Effie laughed and laughed which made me get redder and redder. The scene ended with her hugging me tight and telling me she loved me and my hair. She truly was a precious lady and i am blessed she was in my life. |
My dad (my hero) taught me many things about how to treat a woman. One of my favorite memories was when I was a kid I noticed that, when walking with my Mom, he always made sure to walk on theoutside nearest the street. I asked him why and he said that was to make sure that a car splashing water from a puddle or jumpimg the curb would hit him and not my Mom. A good lesson in "old school" manners and cherishing women.
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Standing ovations at my dance recitals... and being rewarded afterward with warm Krispy Kreme donuts and cold milk.
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My dad always treating me more like a son, my grandaddy driving me around in a '68 convertible, growing up between 3 states and a great summer home in Canada. i had the best childhood. i cant even begin to list my experiences. AND i try hard to give my son the BEST of both worlds to boot.
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Hmm favorite childhood memory I think the one that always pops into my mind is each and every family reunion I went to when my granny was alive. I can still on my saddest day think of something about her that will make me smile and even shake my head in disbelief but still smile or even laugh. From watching her crochet to enjoying the smell of real corn bread and beans cooking on a Sunday. To even watching this old lady that had 12 children pick up her spit can next to her recliner and spit her chew into it. Gross to think about but that was my granny and she did not care what anyone thought of her as long as her family was taken care of. I am sitting here right now shaking my head at all the memories and honestly missing the one member of my bio-family I am not embarrassed to admit to loving and missing during the holiday season. Nor too embarrassed to admit that was one little woman I feared and inspire to make proud even today.
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my best friend and all the things we did together, sledging, riding on our bogie, mini morobikes at the fair, jumping over the hedge, passing notes along string between our bedroom windows, lying with our feet out of the car window, eating sherbert that crackles and pops, taking turns kissing our shared boyfriend, sitting on the toilet together, fighting, crabbing, swimming - don't know what I would have done without her. From age 2 to 12 she was the love of my life.
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Jim Gaffigan - Holiday Traditions - Beyond the Pale
When I was a child our family would add a little levity to Christmas morning by getting a joke gift for each person, or wrapping some tiny thing in a gigantic box and then sit back to watch the puzzled response when it was opened (especially entertaining following pleads to open a giant package -- we fell for this year after year). It was fun.
In the spirit of that tradition here is a comedy bit about various holidays. Enjoy. |
My favorite childhood memories revolve around my maternal grandmother, Nannie.
I would get to go to my Nannie's apartment every weekend when we lived in NJ and got to spend Saturday nights with her. My brothers never did. I guess they stayed home with my parents. I honestly never thought about them and my spending weekends with Nannie until just now. She would always let me stay up and watch Perry Mason on Saturday nights. Since at home I watched almost zero TV and had to go to bed at 7:30 every night, staying at her house was such a treat! She was the best cook ever! She made awesome duck with the crispiest skin! I have tried in my life to replicate it but have never been able to make it like she did! We would always take the bus to go to the mall to go shopping. She could never afford to buy anything but we always had fun. Everything I did with Nannie was fun! It was like an out-of-prison pass for me each weekend. She always had parakeets and when one died, she would get another. Each one was named Peetie. As a kid, I just thought all birds lived forever. She would walk around the apartment with the bird on her shoulder. It always seemed the most natural thing in the world for her to do that. Even though she was Jewish, she always had a tiny Christmas tree on a tabletop for us kids. She somehow, always, knew to get each of us that one present that we really, really, wanted. She would talk to me for hours (except about the loss of her family from Austria in the Holocaust- she never spoke of it.) and she gave me frequent hugs. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that she loved me. She probably saved my soul. She died at age 99 and I still miss her so. |
My Pa worked at night and was off on Monday and Tuesday instead of the weekend. Years ago we got Washingtons birthday and Lincoln's birthday off from school. I was always at Gigi and Papa's on the long weekends. Squirrel hunting on Friday afternoons and Saturdays and even Sunday mornings before church as long as I wasn't on Game Management land. But Mondays was the best day. On Mondays I went with Pa and my Uncle either rabbit hunting or bird hunting. I was always amazed at how my Pa and my Uncle could snag a bird as they took flight, two shots 2 sometimes 3 birds falling...nothing like the smell of gun powder after the shots ring out of a double barrel shotgun. Both he and my Uncle have passed on now, but the memories I have of them both, I still hold very close to my heart.
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Its appropriate for today...
One Easter when I was about 8, I got my first bike for Easter... It was pink with the old fashioned banana seat...my dad added a bell and sparkly tassles for me... It was definitely the best Easter ever... :) |
This is the first Easter since my gramma passed. When I was little, I always remember spending the morning of Easter Sunday with her. We'd go to church and she'd always slip me candy throughout mass. Then we'd go to her house for brunch, where we'd eat all the traditional Polish food that had been blessed the night before. And without fail, the Easter bunny would have left me a second basket at her house. :) Miss you g-ma!
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It's Easter Sunday so the first thing that comes to mind is spending Easter Sunday at my Grandma's with my Aunt's Uncles and cousins. Them hiding eggs for us most of the day. The Easter Bunny had been there of course. Food OMG food my Daddy's family sure could cook. Thing is it was most all home grown be it meat or veggies, except staples like rice
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