October 30, 2012


Grandma was amazing. A middle class mother of two small children and pregnant with another when she was widowed at age 32, she did her utmost to create an idyllic life until she found herself the sudden mother of another single mother (my mom) just as life should have gotten easier for her. As you can imagine, it was a lot of tough going. She died when I was nineteen, and I did not have enough vision to see how much she had done for everybody over all those years.

So, although it is a small thing, I'd like to dedicate this post, so close to Halloween, and to her birthday, to her. She was a master of creating something wonderful out of almost nothing. A Great Depression kid, she could make a feast  out of an almost empty refrigerator, make clothes out of scraps, knit and hand stitch like the wind, and she used her own skill and imagination to create on a budget my mom's (blush pink) wedding dress, when my mom finally got around to getting married. And, to the point, she made all of our costumes.

That is, until I told her I didn't want her to do it anymore because it embarrassed me. Ouch. Yes, another  example of how each generation learns to appreciate the ones who come before too late.

Well, I'd like to thank you now, Grandma. I myself am a Mom, and I get it in a way I never did before. I get what you did, how hard it was, how you held your tongue, swallowed your hurt, and let us all go our own way. I hope we make you proud now. We do our best.

Take care everyone, especially those hit hard by frankenstorm Sandy. It is in these times, and other less acute, but nonetheless difficult ones as well, when ingenuity, creative imagination and craftiness mean everything.

May all your hard work and creativity be appreciated!


Everything but the socks and shoes, she made, including the wig. Doc the dachshund does not look too pleased for some reason. 

This is the last year she sewed a costume for me. I was angry because I had wanted to be a southern belle with full hoop skirt. She thought I would end up being uncomfortable and unable to sit or treat or treat effectively. I thought I looked like Laura Ingalls Wilder. In a bad way.

Here's my sister and me rocking some leotards. Grandma manged to sneak in some ears a tail and a hat that year, God bless her. 

Here's Grandma with Grandpa Ivan before he died. He was a Navy pilot and his plane malfunctioned in the skies of Pensacola, FL. She held it together, never compromised, never remarried, and I am in awe of her for that alone. Love you, Grandma.

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