REMEMBERING MY
GRANDMOTHER
Grandma Budington was, in my
opinion, the most beautiful old lady who ever lived. In her twinkling white
hair there was not one strand that was not purest silver.
Grandma was probably as fine a cook as was to be found in the State of
Michigan and on our cellar stairs were always to be found three crocks, one of
sugar cookies, one of ginger cookies and one of doughnuts.
My mother, who
was a strict Presbyterian, disapproved of her heartily, but nevertheless
depended upon her to run our household, because mother was a business woman who
ran very successfully the town's millinery store.
Pagan and Presbyterian had one thing in common, which was Pagan and
Presbyterian had one thing in common, which was the love of beer, and they
would send me down to the park casino with a large tin pail which I would have
filled at the bar and bring back to them in their hiding place.
Grandma had the only set of quilting frames in the village. Thirefore,
when a quilt was pieced and ready for quilting, all the old ladies in town
would assemble at our house and make use of quilting frames while they drank
tea and gossiped.
Grandma had come to Michigan from Albany, N.Y., in a covered wagon when
she was a little girl. She had been a true pioneer.
She had three husbands, the last of which was her favorite. He was a very
gentle, beautiful old gentleman with a lung white beard, and she revered him.
She was acquainted with farm families up and down the road and It was her
custom, almost every week, to go and spend the day with one of them. In those
days you did not make calls, you visited.
She had one book which she read over and over again. It was a paperbacked
affair and the name of it was "Her Dark Marriage Morn."
In our house
were two upstairs rooms, which were Grandma's. One was a bedroom and the other
was a sitting room. Its decorations were two colored pictures called "Wide
Awake" and "Fast Asleep." There was a whatnot on which were
revered objects such as a bottle of water from the River Jordan, and
daguerreotypes in conspicuous places of her friends and relatives.
She was acquainted with farm families up and down the road and it was her
custom, almost every week, to go and spend the day with one of them. In those
days you did not make calls, you visited.
Though of advanced age, she walked long distances to spend the day at the
farms of her acquaintances. She was a sturdy old lady.
Down the street from our house was a boy whose name was Cappy Allen. It
was his joy to make my life miserable. Every time I went to his end of the
block, he would chase me home. Grandma did not like this and brought it to a
conclusion.
The last time
Cappy chased me home, Grandma stood at our front gate and when,I, a fugitive,
sought shelter, she shut the gate against me and said, "Lick that
boy!"
1 was more afraid of Grandma than I was of Cappy, so I turned on him and
gave him a licking.
She brought me up because mother was so occupied with her business that
she had little time for domestic affairs. So it was I learned more from her
than from all the schools I ever attended. Her life's span extended from the
days when the Indians were still important to the venturesome settlers to the
1890's when Portland, Mich., had become a settled and prosperous community.
Grandma had tremendous self-respect and pride in her appearance and her
antecedents. I was the apple of her eye and it would safe to say that she
devoted herself entirely to me and my concerns as I was growing up.
Her most intimate friend was a spare and severe Scotch woman, a Mrs. Gay,
whose Scotch accent was so pronounced that it was difficult to understand. These two old ladies took me
on their excursions, usually to Belle Isle Park in Detroit, where they would
find a cozy spot in the woods and settle down for the afternoon.
There may exist today in the world old ladies like my grandmotlier and
her friend Mrs. Gay, but I don't know where they can be found. If there do not
exist isles of the blessed, to which people as my Grandma go when they pass
away, then there is a defect in the hereafter.
As I have
said, she was a complete pagan, but if the world were made up exclusively of
such pagans as she, there would be an eternity of peace and comfort and kindly
friendship.
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