06/11/2012
My Grammy's Buttons
It's been three weeks since my Grammy passed away, and I've been struggling with how to best celebrate her life. It's never easy to say goodbye to a loved one, but knowing my Grammy, she'd want me to put my energy into remembering all of the special times we shared. So, that's what I've been doing (or, at least, trying to do) - and that's what I'm going to do in this post. I'll be returning to my usual blogging activities later this week, but for now, I'm going to tell you a little bit about my amazing Grammy.
As any seamstress will tell you, building a button collection - the kind that always has the exact button that you need to finish a project - takes years. A proper stash of buttons cannot simply be bought at the local fabric store ... it must be collected during many days of mending, repairing, deconstructing, and rummaging. A good button box contains interesting buttons, but a great button box holds a lifetime of stories. I am lucky enough to be the proud owner of a particularly special tin of buttons, one that accompanied my Grammy through more than 50 years of marriage, three children (all boys), three grandchildren, and a lifetime of creativity.
Having this box of buttons, along with a box of fabric, a stash of embroidery thread, a collection of notions, and a sewing machine, has allowed me to feel really connected to her during the past few weeks. Of course, having things that belonged to her means a lot, but it's what those objects stand for that really means the most. She was an immensely talented and artistic woman, and it's due in part to her love for creating that I feel such passion for making things with my own two hands. And I love knowing that. I adore the notion that my family tree is filled with stitched and embellished leaves, and I'm really proud that I'm able to carry on the traditions of the amazingly skilled women that came before me (like my Grammy).
Anyone who has been within earshot of me recently has heard at least one story (if not a dozen) about my Grammy, ranging from laugh-out-loud funny tales or just plain sweet ones. Well, now it's time for me to share a couple more of my favorite stories, memories, and musings about her. Here are just a few of the reasons that my Grammy was so awesome:
- She was impossible to beat at any card or board game. Her on-the-last-hand-come-from-behind wins gained her quite the reputation in our family.
- When she would sip champagne, her arms would float up from her sides until they stuck straight out, at which point she would slightly flap them and say, "my arms, they feel so light!" It was the most adorable thing imaginable.
- She baked a fresh pie for my Grampy ever single week for many, many years. In fact, my very first memory is being in the kitchen with her as she baked him a cherry pie. Once she pulled it out of the oven and set it on the sill to cool, the three of us went for a walk and I got to take a ride on a firetruck. Not bad for a first memory, eh?
- She could make ANYTHING. She sewed beautifully, she painted, and she even made this amazing, miniature furniture completely by hand. She had a knack for taking her vision and perfectly translating it into her art.
- She had the most unbelievable whistle. She could do bird calls that made the birds themselves jealous - seriously, she was that good.
- She was on a traveling Wii bowling league. And she was one of their best players, too.
- She was hysterically funny, and in a way that was all her own. Her timing was impecable - she always hit you with a zinger when you were least expecting it.
- She was an animal lover through and through, especially cats. When my parents adopted an abused cat from the shelter, it was my Grammy who worked with her and transformed her from a traumatized creature who was afraid of her own shadow into a snuggly, cuddly teddy bear of a cat. She loved my rats too ... she always said they were "so cunnin'" in her adorable New England accent.
- She never, ever, ever gave up. Ever. No matter the illness, no matter the prognosis, she was always determined to make it through. Nothing could keep her down.
Love you lots, Grammy.