Memories of Grandmothers

Recently we traveled north to attend the memorial service of our Great MaMa. Just shy of her 96th birthday, Great MaMa left a world she could no longer see or enjoy. Her family celebrated the long and blessing-filled life of a strong-willed woman, a rather typical trait, I think, of her generation of women who lived and raised families through simple times of little money and hard work. Great MaMa was very close to her youngest daughter, my step-mom, and our family is fortunate that this daughter took the time to work with a legacy journal to capture many stories of her mother’s life. I’ve heard some of them, shaking my head at how she and her new husband spent their honeymoon traveling south through terribly hot weather to see a sister who could not come to the wedding, but just begged they visit her so she could somehow feel a connection to the celebration. They spent a few days sweltering in her tiny house, sleeping on the floor. All this instead of the (cooler!) Wisconsin Dells vacation they had planned. Now THAT is family love (and sacrifice!). I remember how my own sister and I enjoyed a quiet visit several years ago with blind and wheel-chaired Great MaMa, asking her to tell us about Great PaPa … oh, she enjoyed reminiscing about the love of her life, whom she missed dearly, and we sure learned a lot! At a time when there wasn’t much that this once proudly independent woman could do anymore, she felt valued as she contributed so much to the conversation.

Last summer, at the very end of an infrequent family gathering, my stepmom took a photo of a very frail Great MaMa, sitting in her wheelchair on the deck, surrounded by her beloved grandson and his family of four children, flowers everywhere in the background. It turned out so beautiful… such a forever treasure that almost wasn’t, had my stepmom not been thinking ahead.

Ask the questions sooner than later. Tell your own stories sooner than later. Take a lot of pictures. Give a lot of hugs. We don’t know who will live to be 96.

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War Cake

Jean Larson Steck of St. Louis was watching “The War” on PBS and remembered a certain cake recipe of her grandmother’s. Finally, Jean understood how this “War Cake” got its name – it was made without eggs, which were a scarce commodity during the time of rationing. She planned to bake it for her own children and explain its history. Lucky woman, she has the recipe written in her grandmother’s handwriting! Here is the recipe below for this spice cake, taken from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch:

War Cake

1 ½ c brown sugar packed
2 c water
3 tbsp shortening
2 c raisins
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground allspice
½ tsp ground cloves
½ tsp ground nutmeg
1 tsp salt
3 c all—purpose flour
2 tsp baking soda
½ c chopped nuts (optional)
¼ c candied citrus peel (optional)

Combine sugar, water, shortening, raisins, spices and salt in a saucepan, bring to boil for 5 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool. Stir in flour and baking soda. May add optional nuts and/or peel. Transfer to a greased 9”x9” pan, bake at 325 degrees for 40 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.

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The War Stories

Did you watch Ken Burns’ documentary “The War” on PBS the other week? Our “greatest generation” is leaving us by the hundreds each day, taking with them treasure-troves of stories that tell us what it was like in the “old days,” and I mean what it was REALLY like to live those old days, not just that fact stuff you read in history books. The documentary relayed the terrible stories of individual men surviving horrifying destruction, and left me with a feeling of intense sadness and disgust at the thought of the huge waste of humanity and human potential. What I loved, though, were the stories of civilian people and how they coped back home. Tears, grief, fear, yet men and women and boys and girls all pitched in to help how ever they could with the war effort. It must have been an amazing time of bonding together not just to comfort each other but to work towards the common goal of ending the War and bringing loved ones back home where they belonged. War is such a shameful disgrace, a last resort when all else fails, but sometimes necessary when nations will not work together to help thwart an evil when it is still small. But, I digress from my family-friendly theme!

We in the U.S. are lucky that geography has kept us far away from the everyday reality of war. Lucky, but it leaves us in danger of forgetting, of not taking war seriously. It’s so easy to turn away from the T.V. or ignore the news articles. Many veterans who never wanted to speak of their experiences are finding it easier to talk about the war in their older age, perhaps because enough time has passed to dull the pain a bit, but perhaps they are seeing in today’s world how important it is to teach the younger generations about the terrible realities of war.

Ask your grandparents or parents of The War generation to tell you some stories of that time. What was it like to hear the announcement of war, what did they think about their country joining the war, what specific things were they afraid of, as civilians did they have to change their lifestyle any… so many questions, so many interesting answers, so much we must not forget.

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