Grandma Dick was born on this day in 1901, she died in February 1985, at the age of 84 of Parkinson’s disease. She married at the age of 17, lived her entire life in Interlaken, had four children, with a span of 15 years between her third and fourth child.
I remember Grandma best in the kitchen - the wonderful smells, the cookie jar filled, Sunday dinners on the Currier and Ives dishes, blackcap pie when we were at the cottage with berries that had been picked in the patches along the back road. We were always invited to the lake for a picnic or a sleepover at the cottage. I can see her sitting in the metal chairs with her friends visiting after a meal, looking out over the lake from up on the bank. I can see her sitting in her chair in the livingroom of the house on Railroad Ave, sometimes working on an afghan. She would holler out “Joe! Joe!” when she needed something and Grandpa wasn’t paying attention. She had a weekly bridge game, and a weekly hair appointment uptown. I remember she used Camay soap in the upstairs bathroom. Her house had a comfort to it, always warm, always tidy, but under the stairs, she kept a special place for the grandchildren. A chalkboard on the wall, small toys and Lincoln Logs, a map puzzle of the United States (where I learned my U.S. geography and memorized the capitols). She had a coffee table just the right height for kneeling against and setting up little figures.
Grandma worked in the kitchen when I attended elementary school. I would see her behind the tray line, working at the big pots and pans, putting together our meal. Grandpa would drop her off to work, and pick her up later - she never drove a car.
Grandma would come to my concerts, my awards assemblies, my installations in Rainbow Girls (she was in Eastern Star). She was a member of the DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution) and her research provides the lineage for future generations to follow. She and Grandpa took me on my first flight in 1967 to California to visit my cousins. She was always very supportive. She saw me through the mumps when Dad remarried and was off on his honeymoon.
She worked in the village library, and I would take her place when she and Grandpa would go off on vacation. She gave me 50 cents for each day, to stamp the books with a due date, or return them to their place on the shelves. (This gave me time in the library, which was not well-used, to explore the books at my leisure - and some of my most treasured readings came from those hours - especially ‘A Wrinkle in Time’ and ‘The Golden Name Day.’)
I owe much to Grandma by her presence in my life, the influence she had in her quiet way, and the times she would speak harshly to me, though they were few. She was especially unhappy with me one summer day at the cottage when I dropped a favorite dish, and I felt badly that I had disappointed her. On my wedding day, she came upstairs to my bedroom to see if I needed anything, to wish me well in my married life.
Grandma would be 106 today. I miss her at holidays, bright summer days, rainy summer days, and ordinary days as I stand at the kitchen sink and reflect back on all the memories she gave me.
Jan, Grandma Dick, George - 1974