I was scrolling along, getting ready to shut down the browser and I was like―wait. I know that building. Good enough―Brooklyn. My grandmother was my refuge and my haven, too. So glad to have been able to stop by for a visit.
Wow! Isn't that cool. I was so happy when I did a Google map search last year and found a photo of her building. The windows had been updated, but other than that, it looked the same. It felt like uncovering buried treasure. I'm happy to hear you had a wonderful grandmother, too. xo
What a lovely close way in of Meme and your relationship and the photos. Especially the description of the what must be uncomfortable bra, girdle, and bedtime tissue covering her perfect hair. I cried at the end with your green kitchen. (Well crying--present tense). I had a special relationship with my grandmother too.
This is lovely, Nan. My favorite human was my Papa, my mother's father. I called him "The Missing Link"; the only proof that I could be related to those nutjobs. I only survived because of him. Not sure how he did it before I arrived. LOL. His birthday was the 12th. He passed in 91. I miss him every day, and smile at the thought of him. xo
Thanks, Susan. She was SO great. And so tender and hurt. And so very, very strong. She didn’t have a hateful bone in her body. Not a racist in the least, as so many from her generation were, not afraid of hard work, I don’t know how good she was at self-care. I just flashed on the parallels. Depression, caregiving, living alone as an adult, and making tidy lives for ourselves. xo
Thank you, Theresa. Meme was the best. My grandmother was a little scary. There are some stories that include her scattered throughout. Here's one about her that I published as my first piece on Substack. https://nantepper.com/p/the-medicine-that-i-need
I read this just now and looked quickly through the comments, but couldn't see anyone having the reaction that I had – namely, that I am now the granny with the close involvement with my two grandsons, but especially one who spends almost every Saturday night at our house. I am nothing like your Meme but I like the idea of his having memories of myself and my husband when we are both gone – we are incredibly and deliciously close to him and there is a love that is like no other. I write a lot about grandmothers, but from the grandmother POV. Even wrote a whole book on the subject.
Ann, I hope he always remembers you with as much love as I will forever feel for my grandmother. She made an enormous impact on my life while she was alive and she still has influence in the choices I make. I'll often ask myself when grappling with some ethical choice "What would Meme do?" And then I proceed, knowing I'm on the right track. xo
I'm not sure I said what I really wanted to say, Nan, so let me try again.
The most surprising – and disconcerting – thing about becoming a parent is how damned difficult it is. As a mother, you are constantly feeling you are doing the wrong thing - paying them too much attention or too little, giving them too many of your own thoughts or too few, spoiling them, being too tough on them. The guilt trip isI kind of built into the role.
In contrast, the most surprising – and completely delightful – thing about becoming a grandparent is how damned easy it is. When you are a grandmother, it is just a pure love relationship - you are not responsible for making sure they turn out all right, so you just meet them as an individual and give them your love and trust. It's not about whether they remember you; it's the sheer delight of learning from them and seeing the world through their eyes. The grandson who comes weekly happens to be very vulnerable (through a combination of his own personality and his mother nearly dying of cancer when he was a small toddler), so he reaches out in a very touching way. He is also super bright and insightful and we happily give back. And by God, we get a lot. Last weekend, he said that he loved talking to Grandad because he knew so much, but he loved talking to me because he got wisdom. You can't buy that comment anywhere!
So I think what I am saying is that you may have got a lot from your Meme, but I am pretty damned sure she got a lot from you. That's what I meant to say.
Yes. I really was lucky. I wish she'd had an easier life, and I wish I knew her more deeply, and that she could have shared her inner thoughts with me, but that wasn't really her way. She was the best. Thank you for reading, Barbara. xo
Thanks, lovely. I wish you'd known her and Aunt Lily better. They were special. You didn't get enough of them in my opinion. I didn't get enough of them, and Lily died too soon. She was such an impactful presence in my life. And Lily didn't wear a wash and set hairdo. She had super long hair that I had no idea about until one time she stayed over and when I saw her getting ready for bed in her long white nightgown, she'd let down her hair which reached down past her butt...she kept it braided and pinned up on her head during the day. I had no idea old ladies could have long hair! xo
I'm sorry you never met her. I don't think you did, either. Yes, the coiled bun...in braids. Crazy. She was something else, that Lily. I loved her so much.
I listened this time, rather than reading. Your voice is soothing. Such a lovely tribute to your grandmother, the last sentence grabbed me by the heart. 💚
Oh Nan, I love this so much. I can hear the tissue paper wrap as it glides along your Meme's head, smell the odd smells in the pre-war building (we had and have those in Chicago) her galoshes, every single detail -all of it! Thanks for sharing your Meme with us and for the memories they evoked in me.
Thanks, Paulette. It was a wonderful experience to write it. As I wrote it on Sunday, I felt as if we'd had a a day-long visit. It was very comforting and somewhat bittersweet. I slept very well that night, CPAP strapped to my head, completely messing up my hair!
I'm so happy to see you have a green kitchen.
Thanks, Eileen. Have a great day tomorrow, whatever you do. I'll be writing! xo
I was scrolling along, getting ready to shut down the browser and I was like―wait. I know that building. Good enough―Brooklyn. My grandmother was my refuge and my haven, too. So glad to have been able to stop by for a visit.
Wow! Isn't that cool. I was so happy when I did a Google map search last year and found a photo of her building. The windows had been updated, but other than that, it looked the same. It felt like uncovering buried treasure. I'm happy to hear you had a wonderful grandmother, too. xo
Thank you for letting me fall a little bit in love with your Meme, Nan.
A pleasure. She was so lovely. I still remember the sound of her voice and her giggle. xo
Oh tears of the surprise ending panting your kitchen! When I feel called I'll write about my grandmother. It's always that way with me.
xo
What a lovely close way in of Meme and your relationship and the photos. Especially the description of the what must be uncomfortable bra, girdle, and bedtime tissue covering her perfect hair. I cried at the end with your green kitchen. (Well crying--present tense). I had a special relationship with my grandmother too.
You're crying? Did it bring back memories for you of your grandmother? Tell me something wonderful about her? Share a tidbit? xo
This is lovely, Nan. My favorite human was my Papa, my mother's father. I called him "The Missing Link"; the only proof that I could be related to those nutjobs. I only survived because of him. Not sure how he did it before I arrived. LOL. His birthday was the 12th. He passed in 91. I miss him every day, and smile at the thought of him. xo
I hear you. I get it. I'd like to hear more about him. Meme died in 1997. She's with me every day. And always will be. Thank god for her. xo
Nan, what a gorgeous remembrance! Thanks for sharing this.
Thanks, Mary! She was wonderful. xo
I’m soooo glad you reposted this. I’m in love with your grandmother. And you. What a portrait.
That’s a lot of I’m so glad you had each other.
Thanks, Susan. She was SO great. And so tender and hurt. And so very, very strong. She didn’t have a hateful bone in her body. Not a racist in the least, as so many from her generation were, not afraid of hard work, I don’t know how good she was at self-care. I just flashed on the parallels. Depression, caregiving, living alone as an adult, and making tidy lives for ourselves. xo
Hi Nan !
As a new friend I am glad to read about your dear Meme.
My experience with grandparents was not so sweet and it is nice to read about a good one !
Love to read you !
Thank you, Theresa. Meme was the best. My grandmother was a little scary. There are some stories that include her scattered throughout. Here's one about her that I published as my first piece on Substack. https://nantepper.com/p/the-medicine-that-i-need
I read this just now and looked quickly through the comments, but couldn't see anyone having the reaction that I had – namely, that I am now the granny with the close involvement with my two grandsons, but especially one who spends almost every Saturday night at our house. I am nothing like your Meme but I like the idea of his having memories of myself and my husband when we are both gone – we are incredibly and deliciously close to him and there is a love that is like no other. I write a lot about grandmothers, but from the grandmother POV. Even wrote a whole book on the subject.
Ann, I hope he always remembers you with as much love as I will forever feel for my grandmother. She made an enormous impact on my life while she was alive and she still has influence in the choices I make. I'll often ask myself when grappling with some ethical choice "What would Meme do?" And then I proceed, knowing I'm on the right track. xo
I'm not sure I said what I really wanted to say, Nan, so let me try again.
The most surprising – and disconcerting – thing about becoming a parent is how damned difficult it is. As a mother, you are constantly feeling you are doing the wrong thing - paying them too much attention or too little, giving them too many of your own thoughts or too few, spoiling them, being too tough on them. The guilt trip isI kind of built into the role.
In contrast, the most surprising – and completely delightful – thing about becoming a grandparent is how damned easy it is. When you are a grandmother, it is just a pure love relationship - you are not responsible for making sure they turn out all right, so you just meet them as an individual and give them your love and trust. It's not about whether they remember you; it's the sheer delight of learning from them and seeing the world through their eyes. The grandson who comes weekly happens to be very vulnerable (through a combination of his own personality and his mother nearly dying of cancer when he was a small toddler), so he reaches out in a very touching way. He is also super bright and insightful and we happily give back. And by God, we get a lot. Last weekend, he said that he loved talking to Grandad because he knew so much, but he loved talking to me because he got wisdom. You can't buy that comment anywhere!
So I think what I am saying is that you may have got a lot from your Meme, but I am pretty damned sure she got a lot from you. That's what I meant to say.
That's really lovely, Ann. Thank you. I think she did.
This piece makes my heart happy and sad, all at once. How lucky you were to have had your Meme.
Yes. I really was lucky. I wish she'd had an easier life, and I wish I knew her more deeply, and that she could have shared her inner thoughts with me, but that wasn't really her way. She was the best. Thank you for reading, Barbara. xo
Such a tender tribute to the woman who nurtured you. And the ending! Unexpected chills.
Thanks, lovely. I wish you'd known her and Aunt Lily better. They were special. You didn't get enough of them in my opinion. I didn't get enough of them, and Lily died too soon. She was such an impactful presence in my life. And Lily didn't wear a wash and set hairdo. She had super long hair that I had no idea about until one time she stayed over and when I saw her getting ready for bed in her long white nightgown, she'd let down her hair which reached down past her butt...she kept it braided and pinned up on her head during the day. I had no idea old ladies could have long hair! xo
I wish I'd known them then, and especially YOU. I loved the photos btw.
I edited my answer just now. I don't know if you saw it.
I do remember her hair, although I only saw it pinned up in a bun or coiled on top like a little crown. I don't think I ever met your Meme. :'(
I'm sorry you never met her. I don't think you did, either. Yes, the coiled bun...in braids. Crazy. She was something else, that Lily. I loved her so much.
I listened this time, rather than reading. Your voice is soothing. Such a lovely tribute to your grandmother, the last sentence grabbed me by the heart. 💚
Thanks, lovey. I hope to get much better at the reading part. I adore doing it. xo
Oh Nan, I love this so much. I can hear the tissue paper wrap as it glides along your Meme's head, smell the odd smells in the pre-war building (we had and have those in Chicago) her galoshes, every single detail -all of it! Thanks for sharing your Meme with us and for the memories they evoked in me.
Thanks, Paulette. It was a wonderful experience to write it. As I wrote it on Sunday, I felt as if we'd had a a day-long visit. It was very comforting and somewhat bittersweet. I slept very well that night, CPAP strapped to my head, completely messing up my hair!
Yes!!! An old fashioned Sunday visit with Meme. Ha ha, I imagine that Meme would understand about the messy hair.
😂More like it.
Actually, she might be appalled. Why don't I use tissue paper???
Such a beautiful collection of memories and told with so much care and tenderness. Really lovely 🥰
Thank you, Sara. xoxo
Ode to Meme - this is so sweet, Nan. (And we had your same green in an apartment years ago.)
Love that green! So alive. xoxo!