Gaynell Dickson, My Grandmother
submitted by Sarah Jane Hughes Reilly
A few months after Papap's funeral, Grandma came to the farm to stay with us. Mom was her oldest daugher, and even though Grandma's home was two hours away, we were the ones with some extra room at the time. No one was sure how long she would be with us, but she was not yet old enough to collect Social Security, and she had never learned to drive a car.
The bedrooms upstairs were rearranged to accommodate Grandma and a few of her possessions. She didn't have much, having had to sell the home that she and Papap had built to their youngest son. But her room had her own bed, dresser, rocking chair, a big blue stuffed chair from her old living room, and even her sewing machine. The new AMC Rambler, bought shortly before Papap died, sat out in the driveway for our family to use, if needed.
Grandma was not easy to live with, but it must have been hard for her to move in with her daughter's family and leave her old life behind. She was very critical of many things my mom did, and she was always correcting my siblings and me. I think it was particularly hard on my dad to have Grandma there because of her domineering personality.
Grandma had lived a difficult life. She had a terrible affliction of eczema, a constant source of pain and discomfort, probably the main cause of her irritability, especially in hot weather. This skin disease was sore and weepy and was never really alleviated, even with all of the creams, pills and preparations she tried. She had to wear clothes that would not bind her, so she wore home-sewn cotton dresses, always with matching aprons.
I didn't know Grandma very well until she came to our home when I was a sixth grader. Previously, she and Papap would visit once or twice a year, but I remember that it would take forever to unload the car. Grandma was a real saver and an original recycler. Perhaps this was because she had learnd to be thrifty during the Depression and World War II.
Nothing was wasted. I remember bags of fabric remnants from rummage sales, stacks of margarine containers, bundles of wire coat hangers, boxes of broken crayons, the stack of empty egg cartons and the odds and ends of dishes. These could all be used for something.
From her collections, she made beautiful hand sewn quilts and crocheted rugs. Papap had been a carpenter and had made some fantastic quilt frames and had whittled a special hook for rug making. Grandma had a keen knack for putting color combinations and patterns together. One of my most treasured possessions is a quilt she made from printed feed sacks, completely quilted with pink thread. My kitchen has two rectangular crocheted rugs made from fabric scraps. She also designed and crocheted the shawl that I wore to the prom, and I have a set of pillow cases that are edged with cotton crocheted lace.
With only an eighth grade education, Grandma was a self-taught and creative woman. She told me once that had taken a correspondence course in tailoring when she was sixteen, and she was so proud of the black wool blazer she had made. For my son Timmy, she painstakingly planned and experimented to make an unique yellow, green and white baby afghan, wich is certainly a family heirloom.
Grandma was not a good cook but food was important to her. She could create a meal from whatever was available. But, she could bake the best bread in huge batches all at one clip. It smelled wonderful! My siblings and I would ask to have a slice when it was warm from the oven, but she would warn us that it would make a "ball of dough' in our stomachs! Oh, no!
Her spicy soft molasses cookies have become a favorite family recipe. As a child, I would search her house for the stoneware crock where she hid those cookies. Sometimes, it would be in the fruit cellar, and other times, it might be on the floor of a closet.
Grandma had a special love of the outdoors. She would put on her "berry-pickin" hat, get her walking cane and give us each a tin can with a string attached so we could carry it around our necks and use both hands for picking. Off we would go around the farm, picking whatever berries were in season. She would poke at the bushes with her cane or pull berries that were out of reach towards us so we would not miss a berry. What yummy cobbler and jelly these berries would make!
She would spot jack-in-the-pulpits or trillium flowers along the woods which we would admire but never pick. In later years, I picked one of these flowers, pressed it flat and mailed it to her when she was in the Presbyterian home. I remembered and so would she.
We gave Grandma a room in our home when she needed a place to go. Later, she would learn to drive, move into a mobile home and make bread and lapel pins to sell to make ends meet. She would do what she had to do and she would become strong again. She would use what she had around her to create and would share these creations with others. Grandma truly made the most of what she had.
There is much of my grandma in me and around me. I touch her darning basket, knowing I will probably never darn a sock, but I will hem a pair of pants for a friend. I will probably never attempt a whole quilt, all hand sewn, but I store my sewing supplies in her small three-drawer sewing cabinet. I will probably always collect odds and ends and encourage my sons and students to make something out of them. When I need to make ends meet, I will teach stitchery, do alterations, cater small parties and maybe pick some berries. I will share what I have with others and I will remember Gaynell.