When I Think About Her

When I think about her, I see the color purple (her favorite) all around me and I taste the sweetness of the Juicy Fruit gum she always had in her handbag. I could smell it before I ever saw it as the scent permeated the whole room. She had other mysteries dispersed in that bag, too...back then all the ladies carried decorated handkerchiefs wherever they went. Sometimes you could even see them stuff those squares into their pockets or their bosom for safekeeping. The fanciest ones, usually with lace, were the ones my Grandma would use when she met other ladies to play bridge.

She would wear her little round black hat with tiny pearls adorned on net to those women's only events and when we would all go out to a restaurant for her birthday. It made her look so important. She would take out her compact and dab red lipstick on her thin lips and then make a smacking noise that notified she was finished primping, followed by the snap of the compact closing.

As she decided on which jewelry to wear, that is the time that I gave the most attention to. Hidden in her bureau drawer and sometimes deep within her purse, she would pull out treasures she had wrapped into those squared hankies. As she unwrapped each of them, she unwrapped surprises...sometimes even to herself. Sometimes it might be her "partial" the dentist had made. Sometimes it was a brooch. There would be hearing aids, keys, necklaces, rings, watches, coins. I loved those discoveries. I think she enjoyed me watching her so intently. But she would get a bit nervous if I asked her too many questions and she would lose her "focus" on getting ready. That's when she would say, "That's enough questions."

I was always amazed at her black hair that showed so very little grey. Her hair felt so soft and was of fine texture. She permed it to give her natural waviness a lesson in manners and obedience. White gloves would fit perfectly on her tiny hands that were known for being gentle and nurturing to so many. Her hands taught me many valuable lessons.

She always seemed to be in slow, thoughtful mode, never being in a rush. She had a calm assurance about her. I could trust in that. She also followed a routine. She would get up and make coffee for those going to work and then she would read the daily newspaper. She would read to us our horoscope and also Ann Landers if she deemed her advice appropriate. And she would laugh softly at the comic page, seeing pranks of Dennis the Menace or the conundrums of Charlie Brown.

I even watched her as she ate. She chewed her small bites of food for almost forever, in my opinion. Methodically. I asked her why she did that and I got a lesson on proper digestion. Nobody I have ever met enjoyed her food as much as she did.

She never missed her "show," As the World Turns. And she kept up with celebrities and the gossip columns in magazines. She busied her mind. (When I reached my teenage years, I shared that I had my favorite soap opera, too...Young & Restless.) She commented that was "about right" and just smiled at me.

I watched her navigate the effects that alcohol had on her children. I saw her struggles and the pain in her green eyes. We shared in that. She found her coping mechanism with a rocking chair and a bowl of potatoes that needed peeling or a bowl of green beans that needed ends clipped and sized down for cooking (this is called snapping beans.) I took in how she busied her hands as she rocked. And I would sit at her feet asking her questions about life and trying to avoid the chaos that ensued in the other rooms. She was my safety.

In my last year of junior high, all I wanted to accomplish is to be as tall as my grandma. I recall thinking I would be "grown" then. That goal was met that year. I grew to be five foot three inches...just like her and I never got any taller. I got her height and her green eyes. And I got so many good lessons. Now I give my grandchildren and great-grands Juicy Fruit gum and tell them the story of this wonderful woman I had in my life.

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This is for you, Gertrude Bridges Smith (1892-1984) with so much love!