Beautiful lady
Every time our family arrived at Grandad and Grandma’s house in Bellingham—after hellos and hugs, of course—I ran to visit the beautiful porcelain lady on Grandma’s dresser. She was elegant, much more so than the one in the photo. And she glowed in the dark. Yes, really!
She’d been collecting the light since the last time the family had been together at Grandad and Grandma’s house. By now she’d stored up several months of it. I would gently pick her up and study her face and dress, savoring the anticipation. Then I’d slip into the dark closet, snuggle in between Grandma’s dresses, and watch the lady glow. The joy filled my little heart and lingered there for, well…considering how much I’ve smiled as I’ve thought about writing this post, I guess the joy has lingered for about 65 years.
But this was only the first delight.
There were 11 grandkids, ages 10 and younger, during the Bellingham years. Cousin Gina told me that she wasn’t born until our grandparents had moved away. I’ll bet we were noisy as we explored the upstairs bedrooms, bumped down the stairs on our bottoms, and dashed back up to do it again.
Let me take you on a little house tour on Christmas Day, my favorite time to visit.
Several steps lead from the sidewalk up to the front porch, kind of a steep stretch for a little kid. You open the front door and step into a large room that goes all the way across the house. The living room is on the left and the dining room on the right. In the corner of the living room stands the Christmas tree. It glitters with lights, colorful balls, and lots of tinsel. Christmas sheet music lines the piano’s book rack, ready for when we’ll gather to sing carols after we’ve opened gifts.
Ready for the festivities
On the dining room table, Grandma has spread her starched and ironed white tablecloth and set out the “good” china. It looks very inviting.
The turkey, just out of the oven, waits in the kitchen to be carved. Its aroma, mingled with corn, potatoes, and gravy. all still cooking, lure us into the kitchen. If there is an unfamiliar scent in the room, it is probably the dinner rolls. Grandma always heats them up in a brown paper bag. A toasty brown bag has an appeal all its own.
Salads, condiments, sweet potato casserole, and pies cover the prep table in the kitchen.
Should you need something to tide you over until dinner, check the drawer in the prep table. That’s where Grandma keeps her Chiclets and Life Savers. (She won’t mind.)
Grandma’s Secret
I see that Grandma left the napkins for us to fold. Let’s sit at the breakfast nook. While we fold napkins I’ll tell you a story.
Tommy and I had lunch with Grandma and Grandad one day last summer when we were here. We talked about the left and the right. They can be easy to mix up. Anyway, Grandad said, “Well look at that, Ethel!” (That’s Grandma’s name. Grandad’s is Etna.) “Tommy is right-handed and Ginger is left-handed.” I asked what he meant. He said, “You use your left hand to do things, like eat, and color, and use scissors. You have your fork in your left hand; Tommy has his in his right.” We giggled. Then Grandad said, “I’ll tell you a little secret about your grandma. She can use either hand to do those things! Most of us can’t, but your grandma can. It’s what they call being ‘ambidextrous.'”
As the lone lefty in the family, that day I discovered a special tie to this talented grandma of mine.
A hard lesson
OK, napkins are folded. Let’s take them to the table. But —what’s this! A bottle of ink has somehow spilled on the beautiful tablecloth, creating a big pool of black on the white linen!
I look around. The adults are upset. My heart beats hard. Then I see my brother Tommy, standing in the hallway, He’s laughing. When he is questioned he says, “It was a joke! It’s from my Christmas gift, the one with practical jokes. I thought you would think it was funny!” But nobody is laughing. Not even Tommy, not any more. He quietly walks across the room and picks up his props from the table and walks away. The pristine tablecloth bears no black stain.
While the grown-ups finish dinner prep the cousins go downstairs to play. That’s where Grandma’s laundry room and Grandad’s shop are, and where energetic kids go to “get the wiggles out.”
“Dinner’s Ready!”
We finally hear the call from the top of the stairs, “Dinner’s ready!” Eleven pairs of feet rush up the steps and down the hall to the bathroom to wash our hands.
The bathroom is between the living room and Grandad and Grandma’s bedroom. It’s a nice bathroom, but beware the lock. You could be in there for a while, trying to get the door open.
Maybe you should practice which is your left hand and which is your right before you go in. That way, when the grown-ups stand in the hall and tell you which way to turn the bolt and open the door, you will understand what they mean. I bet Grandma never had this problem!
• • •
My grandparents are gone now. So are two of their children and two of their grandkids. And, sadly, the glow-in-the-dark lady is nowhere to be found.
Their house is also gone. But it lives on in my memories, along with all the people who sat around the big dining room table, finally laughing at Tommy’s practical joke and teaching little Ginger the trick to the bathroom lock.
• • •
Do you have any special memories that have kept you smiling for years? Would you like to share one? You can tell your story in the comments at the bottom of this page. Or you can share them on the Salt & Pepper Blog page on Facebook.
Keep smiling,
Ginger
Aww I love this so much. My grandparent’s houses were also impactful to me. I wonder how I can possibly remember the details considering I was so young and they have been gone for years! But I remember every nook and cranny. Here are two of mine- Great Grandma had a white house with pillars on the front porch and a porch swing! She also had a laundry chute on each floor so we used that to pass pretend “Mail” back and forth to each other. I don’t think I see those made anymore.
Gma on my mom’s side worked at the library. She had a special box at home just for us. It had post-it’s before they were invented. I kid you not, they were strips of paper with a sticky strip on the top. We would put these inside book covers and then sign our name to check them out. There were also fun pens and colors. She had the coolest chairs in the living room, they were round, black/white and upholstered. AND they spun completely into a full circle. Around and around we would go until the folks said “enough already.” LOL.
Oh, Julie, now I’m smiling at YOUR memories, and I wasn’t even there!
Ginger
Such a SWEET post. I never had the privilege of having Christmas dinner with either of my grandmothers in California. We lived in Oregon when we were on furlough from doing missions in Africa. But I remember may Grandma Taylor’s pantry. One time when we visited we saw a dressed fowl in there, waiting to be put in the oven. Dashing out, my brother said, “MAMA, we’re having turkey for dinner!” Grandma chuckled. “It’s just a hen,” she murmured to my mother. Mama smiled. She understood that we only knew African chickens, which are a much smaller breed, and tough enough from foraging that even a pressure cooker couldn’t soften them.
Thank you, Sylvia. I’ll bet that “turkey” was the best chicken you ever ate!
And now your grandchildren have many fun memories made at Duane’s and your house.
Ginger
What a special story about Grandma’s and memories. Thanks for sharing that simply because it causes me to reflect on my Grandmother who annually made the world’s best strawberry jam. At 102, she thought the reason she lived in the “old folks home” was so that she could care for the others who she refered to as being the “old people.”
Hi Bob, It sounds like your grandmother was a wonderful—and spunky—gal! You must have many sweet stories to tell about her.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Bob. I always appreciate your responses!
Ginger