November 20, 2006 - In Nana's Kitchen
Growing up as an only child raised by grandparents was pretty unique in my early 1960's neighbourhood, where we were surrounded by much younger couples, and larger families.
But I always believed I had it better than my friends. I was the centre of my grandparents lives - and though I was never spoiled with material things, I was incredibly loved and wanted.
We lived in a 1 bedroom flat, and my bed was the couch. Our windows were mostly broken, but nana would effortlessly repair them using strong tape that my grandfather found lying around the wharves where he worked shifts loading and unloading cargo ships. Our toilet was way up the back yard - a writhing green choko bush its only decoration - and the outdoor bathroom you would also find along that path.
The weekly bath was on Saturday nights, and what a big event it was! My grandfather would fill the old copper with water from buckets he'd fill at the tap outside the back door. It was the only tap we had. Nana would light the fire under the big old copper, and when it was warm enough my grandfather would begin the trek of filling bucket after bucket, carrying them up the back path to the bathroom (which was no more than a glorified shed with a tub in the middle) to fill the tub.
I was first in, and nana would scrub me something fierce. Nana was next, and I'll always remember that sweet smell of lily of the valley that surrounded her afterwards. Pop was last of all, and had the task of emptying the big tub when he finished.
In our narrow kitchen nana had a big kitchen hutch. It was a friendly cupboard, with broken panes of stained glass in the cupboard doors, all sticky-taped back together with the same finesse nana used on our windows. Even now, when I close my eyes and think of that cupboard, I am haunted by the smells of the vanilla she used liberally in her bread and butter pudding, and those big spicy jars of choko pickles that I missed so terribly when she passed away.
When I remember her it is always with a fragrance....she smelled of all things lovely and safe and sure.
The wallhanging above is a tribute to my nana. She brought out the best in me, and though it has been 24 years since she died, I miss her still.
Comments
November 20, 2006 - Thanks for sharing
Posted by netherfieldmom
Your quilt is beautiful and your story is amazing. I'll look forward to reading more!
November 20, 2006 - Untitled Comment
Posted by bearsmom
She sounds wonderful.
November 21, 2006 - Hello
Posted by TOSPUBLISHER
Welcome to HomeschoolBlogger! What a beautiful tribute in writing and art.
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