I remember when I was a little girl, my grandmother, my mother’s mother, lived blocks from my house, and many days my mother would leave me and my brother in her care.
I remember playing casino and pisha pasha – a card game that no one in our family can remember how to play and no one else in the world remembers as a game.
I remember going to her pool club, where I’d watch her play mahjong while eating cut up pieces of sweet, drippy cantaloupe.
I remember her refrigerator always had layered parfaits of Jello and cool whip, or it might have been pudding and whipped cream, but I think it was Jello. Could have been both.
I remember bananas, pretty little cups with flowers on them and stories of magic.
I remember beautiful holiday dinners and Shabbat candles.
I remember the whole family going out on Sundays for Chinese food and her ordering Subgum Chicken.
I remember singing, “Oh I won’t go to Macy’s any more, more, more…” and “In Bloomingdale’s Department store, you check them on the second floor…” Clearly, the connection between Jewish women and shopping runs deep.
I remember sitting on her front porch, and as you could in Brooklyn, climbing over to the next porch and the one after that.
I remember playing Red light, Green light, One Two Three and Mother May I?
I remember rocky road ice cream was her favorite flavor.
I remember me being a bit snarky and insensitive, and really not all that nice.
I remember her getting sick.
I remember her dying.
I was 13, when it happened. I remember being so confused and uncomfortable at her funeral, my first real death. I curled in a ball on a chair and cried.
That’s really all I remember, little vignettes, snippets of truth that have been tenderized by age. I only had her a short while, and I regret not being mature enough to listen, learn or appreciate. I regret childish behavior that can never be resolved. I regret not hugging more. I regret being only 13 when she passed, and not having had her for 42 years like I did with my father’s mother. I regret not getting to love her more, to have built a relationship, to really know who she was.
I regret that I can only remember what I remember, and it isn’t nearly enough.
Me too. I want more life and more memories. Love the part about the card games.
my cousin (from the other side) just sent me a link to classic card games and pisha pasha is on it! i’m going to start a club.
You write like everybody would like to……
As always,I enjoyed your post a great lot.
I feel that way about my mother’s father. I was lucky enough to have my mom’s mom until just two years ago, and my dad’s mom is still living. But my grandfather was an amazing man who I can only recall now in hazy memories.
I love that one but it made me cry sent Me the picture if u can
Sent from my iPhone Alana Sikorski
It’s never enough. Lovely, lovely post.
it really isn’t. and i’ve been thinking too much about that lately.
This was a beautiful post…I fondly remember both of my grandmothers. One of them taught me to swim! Thanks for sharing this.
thanks. it makes me sad that i didn’t get to know her as well as my other one, but you’re right, i got a lot from her. i mean, we share the same favorite ice cream flavor.
Beautiful post. It’s funny what you remember as a child. It’s so true-little bits and pieces and memories that are hard to decipher whether they are real or stories that have been repeated to you over the years. I really enjoyed this. By the way my grandmother from Brooklyn played Pisha Pasha and I almost gasped when I read this because I never met anyone who knew it either! It’s an up and down game. If someone puts a seven then you can put a six or an eight. I think. Right???
thank you. it makes me sad that i didn’t really get to know her. lately, i’ve been thinking too much about the tragic part of life. must be middle age!!
and we can play pisha pasha together. it’s something like war, but with just suits and you steal the whole pile. must have been a brooklyn game!
Beautiful post!
thank you.
I bet your grandma wishes she could hug you right now. She’s a lucky grandma to still be in your thoughts. Beautiful post!
i have to say, i’m very melancholy lately. must be pre-menopause!!