When I was very young, say about seven years old, I received mail. Now, first of all, you have to realize how important mail is to little kids. Even without opening the envelope, I was pleased at seeing my name (only) as the addressee. At the time, I was very ill, running a high fever. The doctor came to the house, in an age when doctors still made house calls, and he reported that I had “Scarlet Fever.” The envelope contained a get well card … and more!
Inside the card was tucked a soft, thin, pink handkerchief, with blue and white flowers in configurations that formed squares, three of them, in fact.
I’ve kept the handkerchief with me about fifty years and it is hardly the worse for wear, even though it was well used in earlier days. At the time I received it, I believed that it was a hopeful sign that I would get better because the sender told me that she would see me when my health improved.
Although I did not know it at the time, the lady who gave me that hankie, my brother-in-law’s mother, was dying herself, and shortly thereafter passed away from leukemia. She was one of the sweetest, most gentle souls I’ve ever known, and when I think of her, I envision her as a kind of protective, spiritual force in the universe.
I don’t believe I’ll ever be able to throw away this textile, even though the handkerchief has not seen active use for some years now. There is one tiny, three corner tear on its surface. It is just one of those textiles that I will keep and cherish because of the memory associated with it.
I can bet that you have things that you hang onto for sentimental reasons, be it a “poodle skirt” from the fifties, a team pennant, or a high school yearbook. Even though our memories would still be there without the physical presence of objects, is proof that certain events affected us profoundly.
I was very young, when this kind lady passed away, and even what she looked like is very vague. Children don’t pay attention to such things, but they do remember how someone makes them feel. She made me worthy of attention. It is rare to meet someone who will go out of their way for a mere child. She did. The hankie that I still treasure is a tangible reminder of her sweet nature.
Don’t ever let anyone belittle the value of textiles. To a little girl, that handkerchief was the world.
Patricia Cummings, http://www.quiltersmuse.com
My dearest niece,
In life, we can only hold onto the good memories of people we loved in this life, and cherish them. People pass through our lives, some of them on a parallel journey, but on a non-intersecting plane. If we are lucky, we can interlock our hearts with those who are older and wiser. We must be thankful when we meet an angel, like your paternal grandmother. I am not sure why good people seem to die so young. It’s as though they are on loan to us for a specified amount of time, and then they are called home. I know that you were very tiny when Grandmother Alice died. I wonder what year that was, because if you were four, then I had just become a teenager, making the date later than I envisioned. At any rate, you were lucky to know the love of a grandmother. I remember the little knit baby dress she made for you in turquoise. It, and you, were adorable in a photo. With much love and affection, Auntie Pat
Hi Auntie Pat,
I am so glad that you have shared your special memory and photo of your hankie. It is a beautiful testament to Grandmother Alice’s loving nature.
My memories of my Grandmother Alice are very fond ones as well. She made me feel special in a very chaotic parent-centered world. I remember her love for me as being so pure and full. There are only a few people that have walked on the face of the earth that made me feel as special as she did.
I still miss her to this day and hope one day to see her again in heaven.
I remember going to her wake when I was four years of age. I did not completely understand that she was dead. I don’t remember a lot of conversation trying to explain anything to me in those days. There were little steps up to the casket. I was so small, that I could not see what was in there. When I saw her laying so peacefully there, I reached out to touch her hand and say hello. She was holding a string of Rosary beads in her hands.
I was just about to touch her when a sharp reprimand came from my mother “Do Not Touch” her. From that moment on, I knew my life would never be the same without her. My mother always tried to make me feel the opposite of how my Grandmother Alice taught me to feel about myself. I prefer Grandmother Alice’s insights. I feel special and happy! Thank you so much Grandmother Alice. I love you completely and I always will!