My Grandma Lawrence passed away last week, and I gathered with my siblings, parents and some extended family for the funeral service on Saturday. Grandma was almost 91, and had a peaceful death surrounded by all of her children. We spent the few days we were together celebrating her life, and remembering some of the things we loved about her.
Since my blog is more or less a journal for my family, I thought I'd list a few of my memories of Grandma Lawrence, and encourage anyone who knew her to leave a comment and do the same. My children are too young to have any memories of Grandma Lawrence, so they unfortunately will not know what it's like to sit at the kids table on Thanksgiving, eat Fuzzy Navel ice cream, or watch
Batteries Not Included on the fold out sofa in the back bedroom, while the grown ups play a ruthless game of Aggravation or Hearts.
I loved the apricots from grandma's tree in the backyard, and apparently, one of the neighborhood kids enjoyed Grandmas backyard as well, because a couple of these were recent additions to her property.
Awesome.
Grandma loved to remind kids that they were kids and that they were not allowed to touch things that belonged to grown ups, or play where they might break something. The only thing more awesome than these signs is what we found taped to the back of one of them.
Aaahahahha!
That's one brave kid.
I love that it's dated only a couple weeks before she passed. My Grandma lived a long, full life, and was totally opinionated and completely independent her entire life.
I was also lucky to inherit
a few treasures from Grandma's home.
We took our time walking around Grandma's house, thinking about her while we looked at her beautiful things. HolleeAnn pointed out how big the antique three-quarter bed used to seem when we were little. Scott got a drink from is favorite cups, Mark and Amy took their kids to play on the playground behind the house where we used to spend hours when we came to visit.
I found
Grandma's vintage house apron hanging right where she left it in the laundry room, and put it on.
It still smells like her.
When my aunt saw me she insisted that I take it home with me and I am so happy. I've been wanting a couple little smock aprons to wear when I teach, and this one is perfect. I love it.
Up next,
Homeless HannahBack at my Grandma's house, after the burial, my Aunt Susie called each of the granddaughters in by age to choose one of Grandma's porcelain dolls. HolleeAnn chose a doll that looked like Jordan. Amy chose a doll with pretty ringlets and a petticoat. My cousin, Ashley, chose the porcelain Geisha, and my other cousin, Summer, chose the redheaded Cabbage Patch Doll that I had always thought was "mine". I almost knocked Summer out for it, but since she actually looked like the doll, it really was meant to be hers. I think I only
thought it was mine when she wasn't around to claim it.
I went in to make my selection, and Aunt Sue said, "
sometimes it stinks to be the youngest" and apologized for the picked over lot. She showed me each of the dolls left and told me a little something about them or how Grandma had acquired them. Then she picked up a ratty doll and said, "
and this is Homeless Hannah. I don't know where she came from, but she's always been here, and it looks like at some point she took a swim an got a haircut". Homeless Hannah has a tattered brown dress, a burlap hat, and child-cut green-blond hair. My mom asked where she came from, and I decided that since she's "Homeless Hannah", she's probably just been here since before Grandma and Grandpa bought the house and is only perched in there with the fancy doll collection because she has squatters rights and refuses to give up her bench. A stubborn doll, like my stubborn grandma.
She kept turning up in unexpected places and scaring the crap out of me.
George Costanza's inherited mother-look-alike-doll has nothin' on Homeless Hannah. "
She" has got quite a mouth and
she yelled all sorts of cranky things at my family this weekend in a crackly
Lady Elaine Fairchilde sort of voice.
I finally understand the lure of ventriloquism. I always thought it was the talent for throwing your voice that brought people to the art, but I was so wrong. It's an offense mechanism. Once you've got a puppet in your hands, you can hand out all the insults you want and get no retaliation!Truth: I've just inherited the BEST thing a Lawrence kid could ever ask for. I love her.
More Homeless Hannah posts coming soon. There just wasn't room for her in my suitcase, so she is coming via mail later this week. I also feared she would crash my airplane in an attempt to get back to my Grandma's house where she belongs
Hanging on the wall in the three-quarter bedroom was
a framed poem with my hand print stamped at the bottom dated 1983. I was one. Too cute! I love that she kept it for all these years, and I am thrilled to have it back as a keepsake that will always remind me that the little girl who made that hand print got her red curly hair from her Grandma Lawrence.
My Grandma Lawrence made delicious grape salad. She loved to be waited on, birds, Hawaiian music, little dogs, romantic movies (as long as the main characters were attractive), the Olympics, The Jazz, and butterscotch pudding. She loved going to "the show". She had a hip group of friends and a very busy social calendar. She drove a really cool car with a seat belt that buckled automatically when you closed the door, she created amazing needlepoint, she had beautiful cursive, she always wore beautiful clip on earrings, and she
always had her nails manicured and painted mauve. I am grateful to her for creating my Dad, for loving me and my little family, for giving me my first Babysitter's Club Book, and for teaching me how to sew by hand.
And finally,
a shaped soap.
I am so excited about this. Grandma ALWAYS had shaped soaps in her bathroom.
They were only for decoration, of course, and we used the liquid soap to wash our hands when we visited. But there was always an assortment of dust covered soap shells and flowers on display in her bathrooms. HolleeAnn and I each took a flower from the dish and noticed that the third had lost it's shape...which means she finally decided to start using her soaps! Just in time, too. She used to have several of them placed all over the house, and was now down to the three flower soaps in "the bathroom with the naked lady picture in it". I can't decide if I'm going to
use it, and be reminded of Grandma every time I wash my hands, or
save it, and think of my awesome Grandma every time I tell people 'not to touch my damn soap'.
Enjoy the party in Heaven, Grandma!
Look out, Grandpa, I'm sure one of the waiters up there wants to dance with her.
Turned seven last week!
I am not trying to be blasphemous and compare myself to Mary, or anything, and perhaps only the mother of a December baby can really appreciate the experience I just described.
-has been singing the Bingo song, "J-E-S-U-S and Jesus was his name-o" all afternoon.
Aaahahahha!
It still smells like her.
I am so excited about this. Grandma ALWAYS had shaped soaps in her bathroom.