hot rolls, tin cups, baker's secret cake
Maleck was the last of my babies I placed in my grandmother's arms. How glad I was the two of them met. It has always been such a great comfort to me that she held each of my five babies--In my heart, I felt their spirits connect and I prayed they gleaned some small morsel of a memory of this very dear woman.
Grandma was a homemaker- she made homemade candy- her fudge, penoche, and taffy were legendary. Her Fresh baked pies and rolls still make my mouth water. Dinner was always special at her house- served on the finest dishes with freshly ironed linens. I still envision walking in her back door and reaching into the cookie jar for her one of a kind applesauce cookies... I have yet to find or duplicate the recipe. And then of course there is her Baker's Secret cake. It was a chocolate cake, perfectly moist with the richest, thickest icing imaginable.
My grandma was the first to hold me, she gave me my first bath, and cared for me when baby sister was born- I still can feel her comforting hands touch my fevered brow as I lay sick and far from my mommy. Thank goodness, I had grandma!
She was the daughter of a sheep farmer. She lost her mother at a young age- she never spoke of her. She lost a daughter, Betty in a fire, 1977- she never spoke of her. In fact, she didn't speak much. But her dark brown eyes spoke volumes.
She called grandpa daddy. Her prayers were beautiful, but quick. Her handwriting neat and legible. Her hair always dyed black.
She was a quilt maker, yet never kept one for herself- she gave them all away- I still have mine! She pieced together our lives as she quilted... births, marriages. She said nothing, but her needle could sing- up and down- meticulous and beautiful.
She never possessed the finer things of life, but Ora's heart and the love of her family. She lived in a small wooden framed white house with colorful flowers and beautiful lace curtains- she always stood at the door to wave good-bye. If I close my eyes, I can see her there with a pleasant smile and a wave of the hand.
I remember the last time I held it-her hand. She was in a care facility and we were watching conference. It was Easter Sunday... I held her hand- little did I know I was saying good bye.
I love and miss you Grandma- Happy 101st Birthday!
