Forgive my lapse in writing, as the last few months have been difficult. My grandmother Margaret, who I was very close to, passed away on February 2, after succumbing to an illness that had wore her down for the last 9 years. She died a couple of weeks before my 29th birthday, which was the same weekend of her memorial service. This birthday was horrible for various reasons - I think the main one being that I missed her something terrible. My grandfather passed away unexpectedly the previous August and I was still dealing with that when she passed.
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| My grandmother and I |
I’m still missing her a lot, especially since I am beginning to feel like I didn't really know her. Sure, I know a lot about her, but my grandmother was very private, and I don’t really know how she thought or felt about a lot of things. I am trying to remember all of the conversations that we had and the important things that we talked about but I am struggling to remember. I do remember, however, that she always had something insightful and wise to say, no matter what the topic of conversation was.
I remember that she was always writing in those spiral bound notebooks. There were dozens of these notebooks, neatly stacked on her end of the dining table and in her office. I know she kept journals but I've never read them. I am hoping that my mom decides to let me read them, as I’d love to know the innermost workings of her mind.
She was an elegant writer, who always sent beautiful greeting cards penned in her graceful handwriting. I had received dozens of greeting cards from her over the years - for birthdays, graduations, Jewish holidays, and most recently, my engagement and wedding. I wish I could say that I saved every one of them but I didn't. It too is something that I wish I could change.
When I think about her, two images come to my mind the most. One is of her at her seat at the end of the dining table, where she would do everything from write, read the newspaper, pay bills, or just gaze out the window. It was the first place she sat in the morning with her cup of coffee. My grandfather, of course, would join her on his end of the dining table, coffee in hand. They did many things in tandem like this.
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| My grandparents with Brendan before a high school dance |
The other image that comes to mind of my grandmother is of her in the kitchen. When she wasn't seated at the dining table with my grandfather, she was in the kitchen, creating something fabulous. Even if she was creating something simple, it would still be fantastic. I lived with my grandparents on and off for a years - the first time when I was 16 years and finishing up high school. The next round was when I was in my senior year of college and had just returned from living in New York. Many of my memories of living with them revolved around the kitchen table, where we shared dinner 99% of the time that I lived there. These were some of many favorite moments, especially in the second stay, when I was an adult and could have interesting conversations them about what I was learning in my classes, recent events, or old stories.
I wish I would have taken the time to learn cooking and recipes from my grandmother. At the time, I didn't have much of an interest in cooking or baking, but I do wish I would have just stopped for a few moments to learn something from her. I do remember calling her from New York to get her famous spaghetti sauce recipe, which is hands down some of the best sauce I've ever eaten. Perhaps one of my aunts or mother remembers the recipe. Some of my favorite things that my grandmother prepared were spaghetti, macaroni and cheese, icebox cake, meatloaf, and the various holiday cookies and treats that she always prepared. She also made a great homemade pizza that I always looked forward to. Whatever she cooked, it was simple but delicious, probably because it was made with love and grace. One of my biggest regrets is that I didn't learn more from her while she was still here and healthy.
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| My grandmother and I in September 2001, when she was still healthy |
What I did learn from her, however, was quite a lot and will stay with me for the rest of my life. I know I have acquired my love of the written word - both reading and writing - from her (and my grandfather). I believe I also inherited my grandmother’s elegant penmanship, which I love to use on the various greeting cards that I now send out. I learned the importance of sitting at the dining or kitchen table at the end of the day and just catching up with each other. She taught me the importance of recipes and cookbooks, but of also just “winging it” when it comes to creating something new. We both share a love of Julia Child. One of my most treasured possessions is the set of “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” that Grandma gave me for Christmas/Hanukkah one year.
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| Just a few of the many books by and about Julia Child |
I miss my grandmother (and grandfather) so very much. The dynamic in my family has definitely shifted, as I feel we no longer have a “home base” for all our family get-togethers, holiday parties, and last minute reunions. Sure, my grandparents’ house still stands, but without them there to fill it with the energy and love that they did, it’s not the same. This coming holiday season will be quite an adjustment, as it will be the first one without any of my grandparents. My life feels different without them, like I am missing something. And the world is missing two of the most wonderful people that anyone could have ever known.
