Pieces of Grandma

I know they say - and I surely believe them - that things are not what matter.  I have jumped on the bandwagon with many others - trying to clear out collections of stuff.  Stuff that clutters our homes, our minds, and our life.

But, today a box arrived.  And in it was stuff - stuff that was once my grandmother's ob"m (died on December 16, 2012 at 98 years old) and even my grandfather's who died well before I became bas mitzvah, more than 30 years ago.

And this stuff means something.  This stuff brings tears to my eyes.  This stuff connects me to my grandmother.  I see these things in her house.  I recall memories of these things being a part of her and a part of my childhood.  I love this stuff.

I want to put this stuff behind glass windows.  And I envision passing it on to my grandchildren and letting these pieces continue to travel within our family.

These pieces contain pieces of my grandma, pieces of my grandfather, pieces of their life and their extended families.  They are more than just things.

Receiving things takes me to the very edge of my sorrow.  And I feel the pain looming within me, but I dare not cross the line.  I cannot imagine what one feels like when they lose a child.  The sorrow and emptiness of a long life I can barely endure.

I now have the recipe boxes that belonged to both of my grandmothers.  My maternal grandmother passed away right before I became bas mitzvah.  I will - most likely - make very few of the recipes that make their home in these boxes.

But, I see the writing.  The writing is a memory of my grandmothers.  What they collected is a story of their time.  (Boy, when someone reads through my recipe books one day, they are going to think I was crazy - gluten free, dairy free, egg free, sugar free, meat free... )

I see one recipe - cottage cheese pancakes.  Probably my most vivid and cherished memory of being with my grandma.  She would make them and I would eat them.  Slathered with grape jelly.  Even in my dairy free, egg free, wheat free escapades... I will always have space for cottage cheese pancakes.

The index card where she wrote out her recipe will go on the plate - a piece of my grandma - a memory of my grandma's kitchen.  It is a round plate with a thick olive green border.  In the center of the plate are yellow, white, and blue flowers.  I guess in the sense of home fashion today, this plate is quite tacky.  One might ask if I really need one plate from a set of dishes that no longer reside on Lockwood Avenue.

This plate is a thing I need.  I will place the cottage cheese pancake recipe atop this plate and I will frame it in a shadow box frame (like I have done with a serving spoon) and put it in my kitchen.

This thing is humbling.  This thing has energy.  This thing connects me with a generation I no longer have the opportunity to speak with.  I need these pieces of my grandmother.