Friday, March 18, 2011

A patent leather bright-green purse

When I wrote the last post I was super excited to write about my grandparents for my children.  I was trying to decide who to write about first, formulating stories, and jotting down notes when it was sort of decided for me.  This weekend we had to say goodbye to my Grandma - your Great Grandma H.
You see that picture down there?  That's her.  And that red squirming wrinkly bundle of clear joy?  That's me - your mama, just five days old.

What was she like you ask?  She was an amazing cook, from green beans, to custard pie to ginger chiffon cake she was the bomb-diggity of all things baked and butter-licious.  She taught your mom to love butter...because anyone who's cooked with butter knows how there is so much to love.

And she was a seamstress.  One of my fondest memories is going with her to the department store to pick out fabric for an Easter dress - white with pink flowers of course, with a pink satin ribbon around the waste.  I remember I loved it.  She sewed it just for me. 

She lived in the next state growing up, so the drive always felt like a long one.  But when we got to her house, she was so excited to see us - lavishing us with hugs and kisses as soon as we walked in the door.  She wanted us to feel at home and to tell what we had been up to...but to never forget where we came from and how we should act.  

And last, but not least she had a green patent leather purse in her toy chest.  I still remember the moment I found out that it was actually her old purse I was playing with.  This was not your everyday God-fearing, conservative, hair-covering wearing, daughter of a Mennonite minister to toting around town purse.  It was spicy.  I loved everything about it.  It was my Grandma. 
Grandma was tired and sick for a long time.  I knew that when she left us she would be going to a better place and would be better off.  I didn't expect to feel so sad about it though.  I find myself talking to her when I'm walking around the house....because now I can.  And I know she is a woman with an opinion. :) It feels like the first time in a long time that I know she can hear me.  And you know how much she would've loved you?  I think everyday about how much she would have loved you when she was in her prime.  And do you know what makes me sadder than anything else?  The fact that the first time she saw you two brilliant boys, I didn't get to see the look on her face.