Knowing Grandma J was a pure pleasure. Having spent fifty years on an isolated Kansas farm, she truly enjoyed her cushy life in town with a gas stove, refrigerator, and wringer washing machine. She’d raised eight wild boys and three girls. Though she’d lost a young baby early in her marriage, it had been so long she no longer mourned. She’d been widowed many years by the time I knew her, and was well- satisfied in her neat little house in town. Should one of her many children not come by, she could walk to the store, beauty parlor, or church. She had neighbors in or went to their kitchens for coffee.
Though she was built like a refrigerator on spindly legs, she was a very attractive lady. She always dressed in floral cotton dresses with a freshly-ironed apron tied around her waist. Her silvery hair was always softly curled. Should she be going out on a windy day, it was ensconced in a hairnet for summer or scarf for wind or cold. Before Grandma went out, she always donned a freshly ironed housedress and good apron, both of her own making. She always picked up her big black purse last thing before heading out the door.
She still adhered to many lifelong habits: washing on Monday, ironing on Tuesday, and baking bread and pies on Friday. It would have been a rare weekend to not have some of her huge family or to visit in their homes.
As you might expect, her house was filled with beautiful hand-made items, quilts, rag rugs, doilies, and embroidered dresser scarves, napkins, and tablecloths. We still have a pair of crocheted trivets she made us for a wedding gift fifty-three years ago.
As you can see, they are well-loved.
Nutsrok 
She must have been a wonderful woman.
What a lovely peek into the nature and life of Grandma J. It’s amazing how you’ve captured who she was in a few paragraphs. I have a few embroidered dresser scarves, trivets, and doilies from my grandmother too. They’re treasures. 🙂
And it was great to see your face show up on my blog! It’s amazing how we all can lose track of each other. Happy to connect again.
The best part was, she was just a good, kind, nonjudgmental person. As you might expect, some of her children were scoundrels, but she didn’t seem to love them any less.
🙂 She seems that way from what you wrote about her.
Cherished Treasures: My Mother’s Crochet Table Covers and Their Legacy of Love!
Among the cherished childhood memories, I hold dear, there is a precious treasure – a crochet table cover meticulously crafted by my mother’s skilled hands. I can still envision her sitting on the cozy sofa, her fingers moving swiftly and gracefully.
The crochet table cover took shape under her creative touch, a design born from the pages of a crochet book that held a world of inspiration. It included step-by-step instructions and several illustrations, for making beautiful crochet projects.
As a eleven-year-old, I felt thrilled flipping through those pages of black and white designs. I often wondered how my mom could bring those patterns to life — it seemed like such a smart and intelligent skill!
Today, in my mind’s eye, I can see her effortlessly multitasking – cooking meals, sipping tea, and stitching away, all with a serene determination.
As my father’s work led us from one place to another, those crochet covers found their way onto every table we called home. At that time, their true value was not fully realized, but as time passed, I came to recognize their profound significance.
Although my beloved mother is no longer with us, these crochet table covers embody her spirit, her essence. Each intricate pattern and delicate stitch carry her touch, transforming them into beloved keepsakes of memory. Thеsе covеrs arе morе than fabric; thеy hold my mothеr’s hеart and dеvotion. As I gently trace my fingers along their textured surface, I am transported to shared moments, her presence alive within my heart.
I often contemplate the future, a time when I may no longer be here. Who will safeguard these precious covers? Will they find new homes adorning other tables, or will they be lost to the passage of time?
These musings remind me of life’s fragility and the legacy we leave behind. Yet, I find solace in knowing that someday, my children may run their fingers across these treasured creations and feel a deep connection to their grandmother.
In the cycle of life, our physical presence may fade, but the memories we weave endure. These crochet table covers, delicate yet resilient, hold within them the thread, that binds me to the past and to the future.
As I run my fingеrs along thеir dеlicatе thrеads, I find comfort in knowing hеr lovе livеs on, forеvеr chеrishеd in my hеart
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All reactions:
These things are beautiful! So many hours of work and love.
Beautiful
Beautiful work.
Grandma J’s legacy lives on not only in these precious keepsakes but also in the hearts of those who had the joy of knowing her. Thank you for sharing her story and reminding us of the profound impact one person’s life can have on so many.
She was a truly good woman. I really miss her.