"One day, one day..."
My blue glass collection
*song for this post is "Midnight, the Stars and You" by Al Bowlly on the Playlist*
I forgot to put this picture up of my 'Evening in Paris'. The funeral reception for my grandma, Fino a couple weeks ago was held at my grandma Evelyns house, who passed away last October. When my grandma Evelyn passed away, some family members were quick to grab her antique crystal, china and other, I'm sure, valuable items. Someone had asked me 'what I wanted'. You know, it just felt wrong. I don't want anything...but I do. When my parents would travel, I would often stay at my grandma Evelyns house. She had her own bedroom, separate from my grandpa's. She had a queen-size bed and a beautiful, old wood vanity complete with bench. She would sleep in my grandpa's room when I stayed, leaving me in the huge bed-or so it seemed to me as a child. I would wake up, birds chirping outside the window in the old orange trees and in would come my German grandma with a fresh squeezed glass of orange juice. She swore by it and I loved it. I felt like a princess waking in that big bed, being brought a glass of sweet nectar :) But my German grandma Evelyn was not one to wait hand and foot on a spoiled princess. It was 'up and at 'em' when the sun came up, wash up and be on time for breakfast! Well, she wasn't too strict but stern enough that I would never cross her. My grandparents had a very old, tiny house with one small bathroom, but everything you needed. I'll always remember that house and particularly, that bathroom. It had that 'old house' smell, not bad old smell, but good old smell. The bathroom was painted a pale pink and had a tall-boy dresser that was actually part of the bathroom; not built into the wall, but attached to it and painted as part of the bathroom and it had crystal knobs on the drawers. My German grandma was very clean and tidy and her bathroom had pretty vintage toiletries and minimal decor. The tub was the thing I remember the most. It. Was. Deep. It wasn't your standard tub. Like the tall-boy dresser, it was not free-standing. I'm assuming it had been framed in wood, then gone over with that old plaster you see in old homes, then painted like the rest of the bathroom. It was all almost 'seamless' in her little bathroom. But the tub was great as a kid! And she ALWAYS had a bottle of Mr. Bubble-bubble bath for me or my cousins staying. In that bathroom, as part of my ever-curious nature, I used to look in wonder at every strange, vintage looking thing she had. Things I never saw at home or in stores or at the houses of friends. Strange, curious things. My one favorite, hands-down, was this bottle of talcum powder, 'Evening in Paris'. I used to ask her if she got it in Paris. She would laugh. I would ask her if I could have it, she always said, "One day, one day...". Well, that 'one day' was my Spanish grandma, Fino's funeral reception. My sister, who I have not spoken with after my grandma Evelyns funeral in Oct., apologized to me at my grandma Fino's funeral and handed me the blue bottle of 'Evening in Paris'. She had set it aside for me once other people started grabbing things. I was so mesmerized by that cobalt blue glass as a child, that I started collecting blue glass once I was a settled adult. A 'settled' adult is different than 'an adult'. My daughter is 'an adult', according to society and people who make rules. But in my eyes, far from being a grown, settled, responsible adult as most kids normally are not, "One day, one day...". As for Fino's personal belongings, I say the same thing; I don't want anything...but I do. I remember her 'molcajete' that she used to make the best salsa with (it was even brought up in speeches at the funeral!). It was one of those things that I would stare at in wonder when she used it...what in the world is she doing?, I would think to myself. I would love that to remember her by, but I have a suspicion it has gone to another sibling, who teamed up with the other sibling and went through Fino's things, picking out what they wanted. Not nice in my eyes. I could go on another rant about that, but I won't!
I forgot to put this picture up of my 'Evening in Paris'. The funeral reception for my grandma, Fino a couple weeks ago was held at my grandma Evelyns house, who passed away last October. When my grandma Evelyn passed away, some family members were quick to grab her antique crystal, china and other, I'm sure, valuable items. Someone had asked me 'what I wanted'. You know, it just felt wrong. I don't want anything...but I do. When my parents would travel, I would often stay at my grandma Evelyns house. She had her own bedroom, separate from my grandpa's. She had a queen-size bed and a beautiful, old wood vanity complete with bench. She would sleep in my grandpa's room when I stayed, leaving me in the huge bed-or so it seemed to me as a child. I would wake up, birds chirping outside the window in the old orange trees and in would come my German grandma with a fresh squeezed glass of orange juice. She swore by it and I loved it. I felt like a princess waking in that big bed, being brought a glass of sweet nectar :) But my German grandma Evelyn was not one to wait hand and foot on a spoiled princess. It was 'up and at 'em' when the sun came up, wash up and be on time for breakfast! Well, she wasn't too strict but stern enough that I would never cross her. My grandparents had a very old, tiny house with one small bathroom, but everything you needed. I'll always remember that house and particularly, that bathroom. It had that 'old house' smell, not bad old smell, but good old smell. The bathroom was painted a pale pink and had a tall-boy dresser that was actually part of the bathroom; not built into the wall, but attached to it and painted as part of the bathroom and it had crystal knobs on the drawers. My German grandma was very clean and tidy and her bathroom had pretty vintage toiletries and minimal decor. The tub was the thing I remember the most. It. Was. Deep. It wasn't your standard tub. Like the tall-boy dresser, it was not free-standing. I'm assuming it had been framed in wood, then gone over with that old plaster you see in old homes, then painted like the rest of the bathroom. It was all almost 'seamless' in her little bathroom. But the tub was great as a kid! And she ALWAYS had a bottle of Mr. Bubble-bubble bath for me or my cousins staying. In that bathroom, as part of my ever-curious nature, I used to look in wonder at every strange, vintage looking thing she had. Things I never saw at home or in stores or at the houses of friends. Strange, curious things. My one favorite, hands-down, was this bottle of talcum powder, 'Evening in Paris'. I used to ask her if she got it in Paris. She would laugh. I would ask her if I could have it, she always said, "One day, one day...". Well, that 'one day' was my Spanish grandma, Fino's funeral reception. My sister, who I have not spoken with after my grandma Evelyns funeral in Oct., apologized to me at my grandma Fino's funeral and handed me the blue bottle of 'Evening in Paris'. She had set it aside for me once other people started grabbing things. I was so mesmerized by that cobalt blue glass as a child, that I started collecting blue glass once I was a settled adult. A 'settled' adult is different than 'an adult'. My daughter is 'an adult', according to society and people who make rules. But in my eyes, far from being a grown, settled, responsible adult as most kids normally are not, "One day, one day...". As for Fino's personal belongings, I say the same thing; I don't want anything...but I do. I remember her 'molcajete' that she used to make the best salsa with (it was even brought up in speeches at the funeral!). It was one of those things that I would stare at in wonder when she used it...what in the world is she doing?, I would think to myself. I would love that to remember her by, but I have a suspicion it has gone to another sibling, who teamed up with the other sibling and went through Fino's things, picking out what they wanted. Not nice in my eyes. I could go on another rant about that, but I won't!
Well, that's my long story of a little bottle that means so much to me :)
Blessings friends,
~ER~
3 comments:
I would have loved that bottle too. I am so happy that your sister was thoughtful enough to remember your connection with this beautiful bottle :)
I had a special relationship with my Italian Grandma, like the one you had with your German one. She was like a mother, really. She took care of me while my mom worked - they would meet each other half way to exchange me. And once she and my Grandpa moved to Las Vegas, I would fly there to spend the summers with her. The stewardess (that's what they were called then) would walk me out to my Grandma's smiling face, and waiting arms. Big, Italian capable arms. I have memories of days in Las Vegas when it was too hot to go outside, so we would just watch TV and eat ice cream, or play games, or lie in her big bed - she had a separate bedroom, too) and find shapes out of the ceiling squiggles. Once after it rained, a cricket got into the house, and when I peaked under the bed to see, it jumped in my face. She laughed and I cried, then she cried because I was crying, and she told the story to everyone for the rest of her life. She passed away three years ago, and I can still smell her pasta wafting down the hallway, and I will forever see her happy face:)
Well, that was a stream - I'm not going to even reread it for corrections!
~Donna
Haha! Thank you, Donna for sharing your memory. I loved it! We are/were lucky to have such wonderful grandma's! I loved your story. ~ER~
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