Heroines I Have Known

On the journey of life it's inevitable the paths of others will intersect with ours. Passing through our lives it's impossible for them not to leave behind something of themselves. A deposit, so to speak, of things that help shape and mold who we are as individuals. I'd like to share some of my intersections with you.

First there is my maternal grandmother. It's no wonder I grew up loving coffee the way I do. I remember going into her kitchen on cold winter mornings with the smell of fresh perked coffee and warm buttered toast. She'd open a bottle of milk where the cream had coagulated at the top and pour it's rich thickness into a cut glass creamer. I can still see her cleaning with nothing more then a warm bucket of water and a bar of Fels Naptha soap. This was long before the Mr. Clean's of the world stocked our market shelves. I can still hear the whirr of the old foot pedalled Singer sewing machine as she sat mending the family's clothing. And the smell of laundry just taken down from the washline where the sun and wind had done what no bottled product could do. She ironed everything including sheets, pillowcases and even undershirts and boxer shorts.

Then there was Mr. and Mrs. Westerman who lived just across the street from my house. Here was another woman I stood in awe of. Not only did she do the things my grandmother did, but she also braided her own rugs, sewed her own clothes, crocheted and knitted as well as doing her own oil paintings. I spent hours with this precious woman who taught me to crochet on a small white whale bone hook that, much to my chagrin, has long since disappeared. Every stitch was counted and looked at carefully for any malformations before moving on to the next step. I sat enthralled with stories that were told to me by she and her husband of what it was like for them as children growing up at the turn of the century. The games they played and the toys they made for themselves. I remember most the Christmas she asked my mother for my favorite doll. For some reason I didn't even realize she was missing. But on Christmas morning I opened a box and there she was dressed in the most beautiful clothes I had ever seen. Every piece, including slip and panties with tiny lace, was lovingly handmade. There was a blue wool coat with matching hat and silk lining and beautiful dresses and nightgown. Each piece made to fit my doll perfectly.

I can't forget to mention my great grandmother after whom I was named. I can still see her walking down the street with her cane flailing from side to side as she scattered any child that might be in her way. I remember the stories of her younger years when she ran with gangsters and bootleggers. And the story of how our family store was started by her husband when he sold produce out of a pushcart. And my Aunt Jenny who, although married many years, never had children but could tell you how to raise yours. She was a great cook that made pie crust so flaky it would put a croissant to tears. The smell of that store and her wonders in the culinary arts are still with me today. Her baked candied ham was known far and wide as were her homemade meatloafs and roast beef so tender it would melt in your mouth. And come Fall she would make her own hand dipped candy apples and taffy patties wrapped in waxed paper. Although she always seemed annoyed with children she always had plenty of penny candy for them to choose from. It was at that counter I saw her lose her patience most often. Between customers she'd sit outside in nice weather and smoke unfiltered cigarettes and gossip with the neighbors. At night she'd relax with a bottle or two of beer.

Well, there you have it. Some of the women who have influenced my life. I wish I could have given more time to each one and how they affected me. I remember these women with great fondness. I look at them and remember how much I wanted to grow up and be just like them. A woman who took care of husband and house and whose greatest pleasure on earth was to raise a family. Is it any wonder I'm so old fashioned when I've had role models such as these. But I wouldn't trade them or the ideals they planted in me for anything. To me they were the epitome of womanhood. I know it doesn't fit into today's modern world. But nonetheless these are the women I admired whose legacies I wish could be carried on. These are my heroines.