Great Grandma's Hands

Dora was her name. She was born in 1901. She witnessed many historical moments while growing up, all those decades of change and evolution from before the 20's through the 80's. She saw it all. Still, she remained. Sure, she rolled with the changes, maybe even got caught up in some. However, the woman I remember, Great Grandma, was humble and thrifty. She grew her own produce garden, baked her own pies- even won contests for her delicious confections. She made the best Sunday dinners. I remember homemade clam chowder, roasts with potatoes, carrots & onions, asparagus, homemade bread, the list is endless. Now a days, some of these would be considered old-fashioned farm dinners. Although she had a television, she preferred the radio. Big band music streamed from it during our Sunday visits. She lived through the Great Depression. Reusing tea bags, paper towels & plastic baggies were the norm. 8pm was her bedtime, even in the summer months when the sun didn't set until almost 10pm. Early to bed, early to rise was her motto. Oh, Grandma. I loved you so. She was the typical sweet grandma-type. She always had homemade cookies and milk ready for our visits. It was in her garden where I first fell in love with tiger lilies. I couldn't have been any older than 6 or 7. If I had to label Grandma, I would have to say that she was a true blue city farmgirl. She wouldn't even had known it since back then, making everything with ones own two hands was what they did.
One thing that I can't recall about her is that she loved to crochet. She must have picked up the hook & yarn when we weren't there for visits. But I know she crocheted because I have the proof. Not much proof but enough to proudly still have a part of her with me to this day. One of my most prized items is an apron she crocheted. Nothing fancy but knowing that it was made with her hands, makes it very special to me. The only other item is some crocheted lace that once adorned a pillow case. The pillow case, which was in my possession when I was in my 20's ws torn and tattered. Not yet appreciating the love that went into that case with it's handmade lace, I threw the case away. But only after I cut the lace off of it. Now, I wish I had kept it intact, tattered case and all. In my mind at the time, I thought that I'd save the lace that was handmade by Grandma and reuse it someday on a new project. After two decades of having this lace, I have forgotten where I stored it. I do know that it's in my closet....somewhere. I'm just not sure where. Now that I've gotten in touch with my farmgirl side, I'm anxious to tear apart my closet to find the lace. Once I do, first I'll be relieved to have found it. Second, I can't wait to hold that lace in my hands and inspect the stitches and imagine my grandma sitting in her cozy chair in the dimly lit corner of he tiny living room, her hands hard at work, stitching every stitch with love. I wonder who or what she was thinking about when she stitched so much love into that pillow case lace....