This past Monday was the anniversary of my grandmother's passing. I've been meaning to put together a post about her but I just haven't been able to find the time. Well now here it is.
My grandmother was Marjorie Sparks Crandall. Aside from my nanny and mother, grandma had to be one of the most amazing women I know. I say know because she is still present to me everyday. There are days when the birds chirp a certain way and the light shines through the shutters just right and I know it's her. Those days take me back to her, sitting in her rocking chair reading a novel. They take me back to her endless attempts at teaching me how to play Gin Rummy and settling on Go Fish. Those days take me back to coffee cake and waffles, popcorn and cookies, manners and quiet love. She used to sit in the window as we swan, wearing an adoring smile. A smile that is still clear as day when I close my eyes.
My grandmother taught me how to be a lady, taught me manners and respect. She never said I love you but her eyes and her devotion to you couldn't hide her true feelings. I'm sad that she is no longer here. What I would give to sit and talk to her now. Everything she's been through and all that she knows. The appreciation for your parents and grandparents sadly comes with age. For sometime in the beginning you are smitten with then. They give you what you want and send you off with kisses and hugs. Then towards the middle, you are off doing your own thing, becoming who you are and all the while they sit back in their chairs with a smile on their face, knowing that you will be back around. Then you realize what wisdom they hold for you and in my case that age sadly came to late. I miss her terribly.
I miss her now even more because it seems that I have somewhat fallen into the career that she would have had a lot to say about. She loved to design clothes and her mock up drawings were pristine. I came across a portfolio book of sorts that belonged to her and when I saw the logo, I was in awe. It was amazing! She had a heart for art. How did I not know more about this talent that she held. Yet another piece of her that I waited to late to talk to.
My interest in jazz music came from her. My fascination with 40's clothing and hats came from her. I was twenty-one years old and still asked her if I could have a cookie off the top of the refrigerator. What I would give to get one beautiful photo of her sitting in that chair again. What I would give to chat over some coffee or even her famous martini, one generation to another, and share my life. What I would give to hear her or laugh—a classic, genuine, unique laugh that I can faintly hear as the years pass. She used to call everyone dear. You don't hear it that often anymore. They way she said it sounded so vintage and perfect. It was like she was saying your name. I could go on an on but you would never stop reading, so I will end with a few pictures from her earlier years.
Maybe I am bias, but I truly believe she was a one of a kind woman. I am so thankful for the things I learned from her and the time I had with her. I hope that I am making her proud and that she knows how much I love her.
My grandfather (who by the way is 91 and still trucking) took these. I get the photo thing from him I guess. After all he did give me my first camera.
My grandmother was Marjorie Sparks Crandall. Aside from my nanny and mother, grandma had to be one of the most amazing women I know. I say know because she is still present to me everyday. There are days when the birds chirp a certain way and the light shines through the shutters just right and I know it's her. Those days take me back to her, sitting in her rocking chair reading a novel. They take me back to her endless attempts at teaching me how to play Gin Rummy and settling on Go Fish. Those days take me back to coffee cake and waffles, popcorn and cookies, manners and quiet love. She used to sit in the window as we swan, wearing an adoring smile. A smile that is still clear as day when I close my eyes.
My grandmother taught me how to be a lady, taught me manners and respect. She never said I love you but her eyes and her devotion to you couldn't hide her true feelings. I'm sad that she is no longer here. What I would give to sit and talk to her now. Everything she's been through and all that she knows. The appreciation for your parents and grandparents sadly comes with age. For sometime in the beginning you are smitten with then. They give you what you want and send you off with kisses and hugs. Then towards the middle, you are off doing your own thing, becoming who you are and all the while they sit back in their chairs with a smile on their face, knowing that you will be back around. Then you realize what wisdom they hold for you and in my case that age sadly came to late. I miss her terribly.
I miss her now even more because it seems that I have somewhat fallen into the career that she would have had a lot to say about. She loved to design clothes and her mock up drawings were pristine. I came across a portfolio book of sorts that belonged to her and when I saw the logo, I was in awe. It was amazing! She had a heart for art. How did I not know more about this talent that she held. Yet another piece of her that I waited to late to talk to.
My interest in jazz music came from her. My fascination with 40's clothing and hats came from her. I was twenty-one years old and still asked her if I could have a cookie off the top of the refrigerator. What I would give to get one beautiful photo of her sitting in that chair again. What I would give to chat over some coffee or even her famous martini, one generation to another, and share my life. What I would give to hear her or laugh—a classic, genuine, unique laugh that I can faintly hear as the years pass. She used to call everyone dear. You don't hear it that often anymore. They way she said it sounded so vintage and perfect. It was like she was saying your name. I could go on an on but you would never stop reading, so I will end with a few pictures from her earlier years.
Maybe I am bias, but I truly believe she was a one of a kind woman. I am so thankful for the things I learned from her and the time I had with her. I hope that I am making her proud and that she knows how much I love her.
My grandfather (who by the way is 91 and still trucking) took these. I get the photo thing from him I guess. After all he did give me my first camera.
This is my dad at about 4 years old with Grandma (Fall 1948 or spring 1949). How stinking cute.
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