"She" (posted 4/24/07)

She was a motherless child at 5 years old, her mother having died during childbirth. Imagine watching your mother's funeral service in your living room at five years old. And taking care of your nine brothers and sisters while your father works all day. She loved the color purple, including Lilac flowers. Money was always tight, but her clothes were always crisp and she carried with it a sophisticated aire. Brown tousled hair and a cheerful smile gave her a radiant glow of kindness and warmth.

She had her first date with Don on the night of her high school graduation and they married on the evening of February 1, 1941 in Melrose, Massachusetts. While she had a lifetime of experiences and memories, I can only recall that part of her life that included my own…..

Her wrinkly skinned face felt soft as a pillow. It smelled of talcum powder and Oil of Olay lotion. She routinely had her hair done at the local beauty shop in Derry. You always knew where she was coming from when her hair was covered with a plastic hat to shield her new 'do from the outside elements.

She had a distinct "Ta-Ha-Ha" laugh that reverberated a comforting tone to those who dearly loved her. "Oh Don!" could be heard any time she was appalled or remotely embarrassed by something her husband might have said to ruffle her feathers. Of the "old school days," she never learned to drive a car. She could always be found accompanying him on excursions to the local post office or Shaw's grocery store. No one could match her cooking, even if they tried. The smell of her gravy, perfected over the years by each successive holiday, enveloped the whole house. Mouths watering, family members rushing to the kitchen just for a quick fix….to swallow spoonfuls of gravy like a bowl full of homemade soup.

Her loyal and loving gestures extended to making me bacon and eggs the morning after a weekend sleepover. And making cookie cutter ham and cheese sandwiches of different shapes on soft, squishy white bread for lunch when I was in kindergarten.

She worried about everyone else's well-being, usually at the expense of her own. She ached to love and be loved by family. She cried when she was happy, as well as when she was sad. Exuding so much compassion, it was easy to see why sometimes family members could be so jealous of the love she gave so freely.

Around the time of her birthday in April 1988, she dropped dead of a heart attack in the doctor's office the day she was there to find out why she had been feeling so ill. Family would later speculate she died of a "broken heart."

Though gone physically, she lives on within the context of my memories 19 years later. The most loving woman I have ever known….

my grandmother.