Isn’t this a cute little house? My grandfather and his brothers built it. My grandparents came to the United States from Germany in their 20’s. Back then, this house was on a street with lots of vacant lots and open spaces. In fact, there was a farm nearby. Now? It’s on a highly desirable street, surrounded by many other highly desirable streets, in a highly desirable town. My grandparents lived there for 60+ years. I have pictures of myself there as a baby, and pictures of my kids there as babies. See that front porch? We spent hours playing on the front porch, making up games and stories and plays. (Note – this was before 24 hour tv, video games, computers, etc.) Inside the house, there are arches between the rooms, there are solid wooden doors with glass handles, there are stained glass windows on either side of the fireplace, there is ugly tile in the bathroom. 🙂 The house has had two owners since my grandfather moved out several years ago. He lived there alone after my grandmother passed away, and he has since passed away as well. The subsequent owners made changes to the house. Got rid of the radiators – good call. Got rid of the big porcelain kitchen sink – bad call. Opened up the staircase – good call. Pulled out all the beautiful bushes in the front and my grandma’s lilacs – bad call. The house has just been sold again, and we have learned that it will be torn down and a new, bigger house built in its place. sigh.
I understand. I’m sad, but I understand. When you drive down that street now, there are many many lots where the old “small” house has been taken down and a bigger house put up. The problem is the lots themselves. They’re huge and deep – the way lots were back when all you had all around you was land. People come in and think the land (on the desirable street in the desirable town) is wasted with the small house sitting on it. I can’t blame the new owner – they don’t have an emotional attachment to that little house. I met with the gal who purchased the house last week. She’s as kind as they come. She must have apologized a half a dozen times for taking the house down. In fact, she has restored several houses and totally appreciates the historical perspective. They’re building the new house for themselves. They’re keeping the beautiful 50+ yr. old trees in the huge backyard. I like knowing that the land will be inhabited by a young family and I look forward to seeing what they build. She was having a renovator come in that afternoon to see what could be dismantled and salvaged, but first she let me come in to see if I wanted anything. I bought doors. I thought I was going to just buy the front door (a big, heavy, great door with a stained glass window that has been painted an ugly color in the interim. I’ll have to strip it.) As I walked through the empty house, I started looking at the bedroom doors. Solid wood, glass handles (how many times did my grandma and grandpa turn those handles in the 60 years they lived there?) Two of them have frosted windows in the top of the door. They’re really wonderful doors. I got to thinking that it would be neat to replace the doors to our bedrooms with those doors. So …. I bought 4 doors AND the front door. Did I measure to make sure they’d fit? Nope. I have so much faith in Wonder Husband’s carpentry skills. I am just sure he will love having “fit antique doors to our bedrooms” and “re-do front entry to make that old door our new front door” on his To Do List. Just sure of it. And the nice new owner? She gave me such a bargain on the doors. She said, “I’m not out to make money on anyone’s memories.” I loved her for that. I think my grandparents would get a kick out of knowing I was moving their doors to my house. I can’t wait to have them in place.
It got me to thinking about the things in our grandparents homes or childhood homes that we have special memories of. I remember a wonderful claw-foot bathtub in my other grandparents house. And of course I have special things that have been passed on to me from both sets of grandparents, which I treasure. I have a friend who made a “Treasures” scrapbook album of just these things – pictures of meaningful things and the memories written down that went with them. I’ve always thought I wanted to do an album like that. So here is the contest. Leave a comment on something special that you remember about your grandparents/childhood house (or someone who was special to you in your childhood), OR something that you treasure that has been passed on to you from grandparents. I will randomly pick someone to win the “Loopy Loot” prize of the month. I’ll announce the winner next Friday, so you have a week to leave comments. I will love reading these comments and hearing about your memories!
Sheri amIcompletelynutsforbuyingantiquedoorswithoutmeasuringfirst??
What a great story – I’m sure you will love having those doors in your home. I have a treasure of my own – my paternal grandmother passed away when I was only five, and, as a result, I have limited memories of her. The night before my wedding my parents gave me her wedding ring – it is the thing I treasure above all else in my home. And the best part is that I didn’t have to have it fitted or redone at all.
As I sit at my computer writing this, my son sits not 10 feet away watching TV and having a snack at a table from my grandparent’s home. It is a beautiful 5 legged square table of solid oak. My grandparents have been gone for many years, my parents are gone now as well. But, I still love to look over at my “taller than me now – looks just like his Dad” son and know he is sitting where his great-grandparents had breakfast every morning during the Great Depression, his grandfather ate breakfast all through WWII, and I ate my grandmother’s homemade fried pies (they were fantastic!) when “Andy Griffith” was still on network TV! I am so happy you were able to purchase the doors but happier you are blessed enough to know what a treasure family and memories can be.
You’re not crazy at all, Sheri. Having those doors as part of your home will be worth all the effort because it will be like having a bit of your grandmother and grandfather there with you.
When my grandmother on my mother’s side passed away, I asked Mom if I could possibly have the globe that had sat in their living room for years. Made out of industrial paper-mache, it has a light inside so it cane be illuminated and sits on a wooden stand. The base that holds the globe in place is clear plastic and proudly bears the symbol of the National Geographic Society.
Grandfather bought the globe when my family moved back to Texas from California because he thought it would be good for his oldest grandchild (me) to have access to a good size globe. The boundaries are those of the early 60’s and “manned spaceflight tracking stations” are dotted across the surface, along with orbital patterns.
Mom asked her brother and sister and their reaction was “Of course! Caro loves that globe. She used to drive Dad crazy playing with it.” It now sits proudly in my own living room, and gives me a warm feeling every time I look at it.
My grandparents lived on a beautiful piece of property in a mobile home. There was a house on the property but my aunt and uncle lived in it. Over the years there were more modular homes added to the property as the kids grew up ane married. It was a unique arrangement, but it worked well for everyone who was involved in the family business of honey bees. I have a lot of memories from the old home, the best are the snowball bushes and the lilacs. My grandmother loved both of them. They are still on the property which is owned by my cousins now. I often want to add a snowball tree and more lilacs to our backyard. It is a someday process for me as I really don’t like gardening.
My other grandma (the one who taught me to knit), helped her mother finish crocheting a little jumper dress for me when I was probably 4 or 5. It is in those granny square patches. My great-grandmother was ill at the time and I don’t think she lived much longer after that. Anyways, the little dress was worn by me, my cousin, my daughter and my boy cousins daughter. It has carried on for all of us. It is the cutest/ugliest little dress with a matching purse. But I look at those pictures of each of us in the dress and it reminds me of my great-grandmother and grandmother.
Those doors are going to be wonderful reminders/memories for you!!
When my grandmother died, my father and my aunt asked all us cousins if we’d like something. My cousins wanted her velvet tufted couch, her rosewood coffee table, her china, etc.
I wanted (and received) two porcelain angel figurines. They probably cost her a dollar each. It’s a boy angel and a girl angel with their hands folded and their eyes closed, lips slightly pouted. Anytime I went to Grandma’s, I made the boy angel kiss the girl angel on the cheek. My grandmother always tsked and separated them, saying “angels don’t kiss each other” and I always put them back kissing. She’d come into the room and start talking, then see the look on my face and whirl around to find them kissing again.
I suspect she enjoyed this little game as much as I did. That’s the only thing I took from my grandmother’s house, and I came out way ahead of the game.
Sheri, I am so glad you were able to get the doors from your grandparents home. My grandmother is 97, will be 98 this year, and she’s lived in her home forever and a day. She still uses “skeleton” keys for all her doors, inside and out, never updated. The one item that I wanted of hers, is her rocking chair. It is from Germany and kind of reminds me of a mission style chair. She sat in that chair while quilting, crocheting and knitting until it broke. Two years ago, I was given the rocking chair and it is my pride and joy. I had it fixed and I love sitting in that chair while I knit and quilt.
The doors are going to be a wonderful reminder of your grandparents. Thanks for this opportunity to share. I’ve enjoyed reading everyone’s comments.
My Grandparents lived in a two-story white house with large, round columns on the front porch. They bought the house when I was 8 and I remember them scrubbing and cleaning the wood floors and huge windows to erase the mess left behind from a family with 6 children. It was a fabulous old house and built to stand the test of time.
The staircase was a favorite thing of mine and I dreamed of floating down the stairs in my wedding dress to marry the man of my dreams. That dream came true 16 years later when the house was decorated with English Ivy and yellow Gladiolas, white Daisies and yellow bows and Daddy walked me down the stairs to my Michael. Fifty people crammed into the house to witness our wedding and we will celebrate our 35th anniversary this year.
The back yard was huge and covered in thick, lush St. Augustine grass. My Grandmother’s green thumb kept the roses and miriad flowers blooming all along the edge of the horseshoe-shaped beds with huge shade trees.
My grandmother sewed for the public for 50 years and could look at a garment and make it without a pattern. She knitted, latch hooked fabulous rugs, was a self-taught pastel chalk artist and, thankfully, passed on some of her talents to me.
I have several of her paintings in my home with lots of antiques and wicker which she handed down to me. I love to sew, knit, paint and quilt. I have a wonderful three-year old granddaughter who is already learning the basics of what to do with a needle and thread and yarn. She picked up my knitting needles and started pretending to knit the afghan I had just finished for her Mama (my daughter). “This will make my Mama happy,” she said. She sits in my lap at the sewing machine just like I did with my Grandmother. Let’s keep the traditions going and growing!
It’s a shame you can’t just have the house, since it is going to be torn down anyway, and have it moved to the place of your choice. I don’t know where your current Loopy Room is located, but the relocated house seems like it would be a charming knitting cottage. As you can probably tell, I love family history, stories, and homes, and even hate to hear about other’s family homes being lost to progress… Happy knitting.
My paternal grandmother taught me how to sew. I have her sterling silver thimble and think of her every time I use it.
i completely understand about losing your grandparents’ house. my grandmother passed away almost 6 years ago, and until she had, we were unaware that the house was leased from our great aunt (who died 21 years ago) with the provision that my grandmother could live there until she died, and then the house would be torn down. i haven’t been back yet.
but on to my memory.
with the knowledge that the house was indeed going to be torn down, we completely stripped the place. to include a few door knobs, lol. the one set i got was white & blue delft china. i don’t know if they’re worth something, but the door they were on led to my grandmother’s “sewing room” (it was a 3 season enclosed porch, lol), where i would sleep when we’d come visit her. i also kept the switch plate from that room as well, also delft china. ok, i need a tissue now. i miss my grandma (she was 97)
Sheri, I luuuuved your blog entry today. I’m turning 40 this year and have noticed myself becoming nostalgic … mostly about my kids. Treasure your beautiful memories and – ahem – good luck with those doors!
I remember some kind of crazy laundry chute ‘thing’ in my granparent”s bathroom. When I was very young I remember being terrified of it – thinking I’d fall in and never be seen again. As I got older it was less mysterious and more fun – sent the cat down it a coupla times 🙂
I have some really cool old photos, of my Nana in the 1930s in a bikini, I mean my nana was always a frail little old lady to me so a picture of her in a bikini was a novelty, I’ve also got a china cat which used to sit under a table in her hall, and a ring which I don’t know if she ever wore, it’s a dress ring with a glass italian stone.
Really enjoyed the blog today, makes me want to get the old photos out, but it will make me sad.
I really enjoyed your stories about your grandparents. I’m glad you have a special part of their home to keep in your family.
I am closest to my maternal grandmother, as she lived in my very small hometown of Minneapolis, Kansas. I have fond memories when I was young of sitting down at her dining room table for breakfast and “helping” her with the crossword puzzle while she had her morning coffee. She even let me have my own cup (although just a small amount) because I liked the taste so much… I also often accompanied her on the long drive to her childhood hometown of Marlin, Texas (also a small town) for the annual summer family reunion. We always stayed at my great grandmother’s house. I also always remember breakfast-time there as well.
When I graduated from 8th grade, my grandma’s gift to me was a simple necklace that had the diamond from her wedding ring on it (my grandfather passed away when I was only 6 and I have a few, but special memories of him as well). She gave it to me early so I could wear it during the graduation ceremony. And, I wore it proudly. And, after my great grandmother passed away a few years later, I was allowed to pick out something from her house as a keepsake. I chose a small glass jewelry box that I always admired sitting on her dresser. I keep my necklace from my grandma in it. It seems a perfect fit to keep two treasures so close to my heart…
I will always remember my grandparents basement. Coming from LA, we didn’t have a basement, so I loved spending time down there. They had a room section and then another section with a maze of shelving. I loved to walk through the maze of shelves and look at all of the pretty jars of canned goods. They even had a special shelf with games for the grandkids to play with…Kooties being a favorite! I will always miss that house.
My parental grandparents had moved into a retirment community by the time I was born, so I never had that feeling of a family homestead with them. Instead, what I inhertited from them is more of an intangible. My grandmother was an Reading teacher. Some of my most vivid memories of her are going over to their apartment and having her read to me. That love of reading has always stayed with me and I think she would be proud to know that I’m a librarian.
I have an old steamer trunk sitting in my living room, that once stood on end in the landing of my grandmother’s house. It was there for years, and I can remember opening it up to dig through the drawers (filled with treasures, of course), and try to shut my younger sister in it. :0) Years later, it was given to my mother, who used it for her dresser. I can remember her sweaters smelling like the trunk….
Now it’s mine, and whenever I see it, or open it up and smell the old, musty smell, I remember these women in my life.
The thing that I was most fascinated with in my grandmother’s house was the set of mounted cow horns that were on the wall in the front hall. They were mysterious and somewhat creepy. The story was that my grandfather had had them in his tavern–one of his many enterprises. When my grandmother moved from that house I really, really wanted those cow horns. It was my sister who got them somehow. I was given a mirror, also said to have been used in the tavern. Airplane vibrations knocked that mirror off my wall and smithereened it–I still have the empty frame. My sister still uses the cow hors as a hat and scarf rack.
Thanks for the trip down memory lane. I am glad you will have those beautiful old doors.
Kathleen
It was so funny to me that you posted about your grandparents house because my family has just sold my grandparents historical home. My grandfather passed away two years ago and the beautiful old house is just too big for my grandmother who is starting to starting to lose her memory and is not as mobile at 82 as she used to be.
This house has been our family home. Every Christmas since I can remember we have spent there. My mental picture of Christmas is that house. The place that the tree goes, the carol singers on the fireplace mantle, the garland and bells that winds its way up the stairs.
My parents keep asking me if there is anything that I want from the house (my bf and I have just purchased our first home). I can’t think of any one specific thing because that house itself means so much to me and to my family. I understand your sadness at the thought of someone tearing your family home down. We sold my grandmother’s house to a young family who have lived near there and have often walked by and admired the house. There was a man who offered us more money but was going to turn the house into and office for the nursing home next door. We wanted to be left with the knowledge that a family who would love the house as much as we have, would be living there.
I will one day have one very special thing from that house. It is my grandmother’s piano. It is an upright piano with beautifully carved legs. My grandmother once had the opportunity to be a concert pianist. Her father told her she had to have a career to fall back on first so my grandmother went into nursing. She married my grandfather and worked to put him through school then became pregnant with my mother. My mother has often told me stories of my grandmother playing piano in the early hours of the morning. When my grandparents moved into the house we have just sold (about 30 or more years ago) my grandfather did not want to pay extra to move the piano and so it was left behind. 30 years later when my grandfather began to realize his old age he decided to buy my grandmother this beautiful piano with lovely carved legs. After 30 years of not playing it breaks my grandmother’s heart that she cannot play the way she used to. I listen to her and am amazed that though her memory and body are failing, this beautiful music flows from her hands to the keys. She stops and shakes her head. She turns to me and tells me that the music is in her head but her hands can’t do it anymore. This last Christmas was the last time that I sat at the piano playing in the living room of that house. My grandmother came in, put her hand on my shoulder and told me she loved me. I got up and asked her to play some Christmas music for us. She dazled me again..still shaking her head “I’ve lost it” She played a few songs while my cousins and I listened. I know she has had” enough when she plays her last song. She ends each time with “God Save the Queen quiety gets up and walks away.
One day that piano will come to my house and I know I will have more memories and more music but I treasure most the times I shared with my grandmother in the living room of that beautiful old house.
Enjoy your doors and the memories
Sarah
Those doors are going to be an incredible addition to your house… what wonderful memories. You are lucky to have a WH with all of those skills!!
It has been fun reading all of the memories that people have been sharing… What a blessing to be able to take time and reflect on where we have come from… the people and the memories that have shaped who we are. I loved going to visit my grandmother. (My grandfather passed away the month after I was born). I can close my eyes and see her in the kitchen cooking up incredible meals with that twinkle in her eye. (I think my love for cooking and having large groups in comes from her…passed on through my mom!!) I remember being afraid to go down into the ‘cellar’ with her…. (where all the canned goods were kept). and always so thankful when she can back up the stairs..alive! I remember all of the ceramics she had and used in her kitchen.. especially the cow creamer. (The tail was the handle and the cream came out the mouth). Wish I had it today.
The other strong memory I have of our visits to Grandma’s house is Dippity Do. (Do you remember that hair stuff???) I don’t know if they still make it, but my Grandma used it all the time and the smell still takes me back.
hi sheri. oh how i loved your grandparents story and their photo. i was weepy by the end of it, but i’m very sentimental and emotional when it comes to family too. i love that you bought the doors. not crazy at all and i’m sure hubby will figure them out for you. thank God he has that talent. i only knew my mom’s parents. they lived on a farm and had some dairy cattle. grandpa also worked at the grainery mill just up the road. he would walk there to work. i have forgotten alot of things but do remember as a 4 yr. old, loving to play with a tuna fish can of marbles there. such a simple thing but i enjoyed it so. i have a photo of myself holding that tuna fish can and me in my ruffled white panties. back in the day when little girls could just wear a pair of cute panties and be cute!! my grandma always baked on fridays for company on the weekends. you never went there with out eating something before leaving. we went there every weekend. she always made molasses, white sugar, and oatmeal raisin cookies every week. had a small cute cookie jar in the center of a big table in the kitchen. it had a bird on the lid. part of its tail was missing and when i was older and asked what happened to it, she said i was the one who broke it. i don’t remember that. then she had a tall crock jar for cookies in a lower cupboard. i don’t recall what the third ones were kept in. my other memory is about their bedrooms upstairs. they did not have built in closets or anything like that. iron frame beds and a commode. she had metal potties with lids that sat in the commode door or just under the bed. she always kept a bit of bleach in them. to this day, bleach smells bring back those memories. my youngest son has one of my grandma’s iron bed frames. got it through my middle sister. she got it in the estate sale so many years back. the day you wrote your memories here was my grandma’s birthday. she would have been 107 yr. old. grandpa was a real sweetie. he used to let me drive his tractor sometimes. when i was about 12, he wanted me to sing in church with him. i was too afraid to stand in front of the folks so i chickened out. we practiced it at home, wonderful words of life, but i couldn’t go through with it. i have regretted that since. my pastor reminded me, i’ll get another chance some day. happy knitting to you all.
I think the thing I treasure the most from my grandparents isn’t really a “thing”…When I was a junior in high school, our final project was to interview a family member about their lives at a given point in history. I interviewed my grandmother over the phone (I was in New Hampshire, she was in Florida) and she basically told me the story of her life…I had to record the interview and transcribe it, and despite the amount of time it took to do that, I will always treasure that interview because I learned so much about my grandparents and I’ll always have the tape and transcript to go back to. So my grandparents have given me a little piece of the history of our family, which I can hand down to future generations of my family.
Sheri, that house is darling and I am glad that you have the doors to go with all your special memories.
As for my grandparents, I spent a lot of time with my maternal grandparents growing up. I remember the shag carpet that was there until my brother moved into the house. I would lay on it and run my fingers through it. I thought it was very luxurious! My favorite, though somewhat odd, memory of Grandpa Ero (he was Finnish), was sitting on his lap and getting him cigarettes out of the freezer. He was so gentle and sweet. Now, Grandma was very sassy and I have multiple fond memories of her. However, she was the person who taught me to crochet, and as a result, I learned to knit. It only took me until last year to realize the reason that I could not figure out how to knit OR follow crochet patterns appropriately was because she had taught me left handed! As a result, I knit and crochet left handed! Now that I know that, it is a heckuva lot easier! 😉
Sheri – What a loveley and touching story. Even though they’re not in the best condition, I will always keep my grandmothers knitting needles.
No way are you nuts! I would have bought anything I could afford in your situation. The doors are a great idea I think. I do hope they can be made to fit in your own home… but if not you will have plenty of time to figure out their niche. Maybe a room divider or something. :>) Anyway your story is inspiring and I loved seeing the photos.
I have very few ‘things’ from my grandparents as they had very few things to pass on. I do, however, have a coffee table from my grandmother’s living room. It is a square pedestal base (with storage inside) and a blue mirrored glass top, something I am told was quite popular many decades ago. The minimal detailing is art deco-esque with rounded lines. The table shows definite signs of use and ageing with scars on the wood and a few scratches on the glass. All of us grandkids learned to walk around that little table, holding on to its toddler-height edges. Tiny impressions live in the rounded wood edges – wee teeth prints from us teething grandbabies gumming it. In its middle years the blue coffee table lived with my parents and was shuffled from room to room, never quite fitting in. Many years ago it became mine as a hand-me-down no one quite loved. Except I always loved it. Now it is in my house right by my favorite knitting spot. It does not go with my furniture or house, but it ‘goes’ with me so I keep it.
I’m pretty sure that back then, when your grandparents built their house somebody else was thinking: Oh! my farm o my whatever!!! Everything changes, but remain the same (the french say: plus ca change, plus cést la meme chose!). It’s very sad to see the place where so many people was happy go away. At least you can have a piece of it. I’m not that lucky, but I remember all the clutter my great granma had. Only God knows what treasures she had. I wish that I only have a little piece of that.
Hope your husband can use the doors!
Sherri, thanks for sharing your memories…they are very touching and I am sad for you that your grandparents house will be torn down! I know I had a lot of good memories from my grandparnets house as well. Especially my grandfather’s garden….he turned his whole backyard into a very elaborate arboretum. He had every single plant labeled with the scientific name and the common name. We had a lot of fun playin hide and seek and exploring in that garden.
What I remember the most about my grandparents’ house is not the things, but the atmosphere. Literally.
My mother’s side of the family is pretty much off-the-boat Italian. So then, was the cooking. It didn’t matter what time of the year it was, or how long it had been since she’d last prepared a meal — the house always retained the smell of oregano and basil. I can remember it as though it were yesterday, and grandma sold the house three years ago. (Kinda painful in and of itself for all concerned, since grandpa built it with his own two hands.) I’m sure it was mere coincidence that there was always a plate full of freshly-baked tomato pie (what the rest of you would call pizza, although it was just dough, tomato sauce and grated parmesan) waiting for us on the counter. Said pizza would have been baked on an odd-looking bit of hardware: a vaguely u-shaped aluminum baking sheet/pizza pan. Grandma’s new (circa 1947) pizza pan didn’t fit in her new (see same) oven. Grandpa, not renowned for his patience, took it out to his workshop and made it fit, curving up the ends to accommodate the narrower oven.
I wonder what happened to that pan.
I love reading your blog and remembering all sorts of things from the past. My biggest memory of my Nana’s house in Roseburg, Oregon is the sweaters that she would make my sister and I. She had always made the sweaters for her children (my mum is the eldest of 5 and 4 boys came after) and she was thrilled to make sweaters in “girly” patterns. I still have 3 of them stored away for my future children and my Mum has others. I remember her sitting and knitting for hours and I figure that I get my love of knitting and constantly working fingers from her!
I have many things that were my grandmother’s. Perhaps the most special item I have is her wedding ring. I think of her when I wear it and of how hard she worked to raise a family during the Great Depression. But my favorite cinnection I have to my grandma is that she is the one who taught me to knit. I can often feel her and my mother beside me as I knit and I wish they could see how skilled I have become at it.
I finally asked my mother who taught her to knit, although she may have told me when I was much younger. I always assumed it was my grandmother. Apparently it was my great-grandmother.
My grandmother can knit, crochet and sew and did until about ten years ago. Apparently, she absolutely hates it. Still, she was quite good at the sewing and the crocheting. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen her knitted work.
Sorry, I hit return by mistake.
Anyway, the legacy my great-grandmother left my mother is the knitting. What I remember most about my grandmother’s house is a pair of children’s wicker chairs with embroidered cushions. Work of my great-grandmother I think.
A cherished memory from my Grandparents…there are so many. I lived with them most of my life, they were like my parents. When my Mom left to come to the United States, she left me with them. I learned everything I know from them…my Grandma gave me the love for the fiber arts. My Grandpa gave me love and tickles whenever I got sad.
I have many cherished memories about time with them. But I will always remember that my Grandpa always snuck some candy for me from the little store they had. Every morning when it was time to go to school, he would go to the front of the store to “tend it” and I would leave through the side door, Grandma would be in the kitchen. Grandpa would sneak out through the front of the store and wait for me to appear and he would give me candy to take to school. I am sure Grandma knew that he gave me candy but she never said anything. It was Grandpa’s and I’s little secret.
Just found your store and site this morning. What wonderful memories you have, and how heartbreaking to lose something like that. Sometimes I want to hold on to everything in life and never let it change, but you can’t do that. You just have to wait for the next wonderful set of memories to come about.
My Grandmother was the single most important and influential person in my life. She had a strength and dignity about her that everyone loved and admired. She gave me my love for creating things. She taught me to sew and crochet, showed me how to find the wonderful in fabric and yarn. Most of my life she lived in a little townhouse, but it was full to the brim with cloth and fibers and books, lots and lots of books. When I think about the kind of person I want to be, I think of her. We lost her 14 years ago, but I still ache every day missing her, and regret that my children will not know her the way I do. I named my daughter after her.
what memories your blog brought to mind. Actually, this was my first home as when I was born, my parents lived with your grandparents. After we moved next door, Tante Anna & Uncle Hans were allways second parents to me. So many memories have been made in their home. I’m so happy that you were able to secure some items from the house – would make your grandparents very proud.
Your grandmother and my mother came from Germany together and my mom and dad met on the ship coming over. As of memories from my parents – I have their kitchen table (purchased nearly 80 years ago – a porcelain one) which I now use daily for my laundry table. While my family was poor, two things they did have that were not purchased my many people at that time – a radio and a camera. I have many photos of my folks before they were married. I also have photo of your grandparents house being built. What precious memories.
The thing I remember best about my paternal grandmother’s house never existed. It was a fun house to visit and all, with a wooded hill out back to play on and a pool table in the basement, but my favorite memory is about a dream I had once when I was young. I must have been 6 or 7; old enough to know better. I dreamed that there was a secret area of the house, that you got to via a secret passageway. In that secret area was just an enormous amount of fancy candy, and all sorts of fun games to play. The dream was so real that I never told anyone about it. I really thought I might find that secret passageway someday, and for years I would secretly look for it when we visited. lol
My paternal Grandmother was a spit-fire! Definitely the black sheep of her family. She was a debutatne, coming out party, the whole bit. Ended up marrying an army sargeant she met at a USO dance in 1942 (much to her parents chagrin….that is how I came to be. She was an wonderful cook and taught me many things in the kitchen. However, for the life of her she could not make cookies without burning the daylights out of them. So, it has become my life’s mission to make the perfect cookie – in her honor….so far, my Dad (her son) says I have accomplished it and she would be proud. To this day I cannot drive by her house without getting over come with sadness that she and my grandfather are gone, but also with tons of happy memories too……
Sheri,
Your grandparents’ house is the exact likeness of the house that we lived in when we lived in University City.When I saw the photo,I wanted to open the door to see if the stained glass windows,in shades of pink and green were still to the left by the stairway or see if the scratches from my son’s little red metal bed were still visible on the bedroom floor upstairs.I shard your pain of having the bushes from the front ripped out and remembered fondly the beautiful azaelas and rhododendrons that bloomed every spring in front of our house.
I’m so glad that you saved the doors from your grandparents” house and wrote about it because it triggered all of the fond memories of raising our son in a house that looked exactly like it.Thank you for sharing your thoughts with all of us who read your blog.
I am sorry to say I have almost no memories from my grandparents, as three of them died before I was born. The fourth, my maternal grandmother, died when I was one year and a half. Still, I vaguely remember a dark shape (she, in black clothes) passing by while I had fun in her backyard amidst the black earth and oranges (she had a nice little orchard with a lot of fruit trees: we ate healthy back then!)
Sadly, my grandparents were all gone by the time I was 11 or so. I do have some memories of my father’s mother preparing food for us. She baked great bread and rolls, applesauce, too! My father’s father played the fiddle…only knew one song though. Everytime I hear the song “Three Blind Mice” I think of him scratching that one out on his fiddle! Sounded like screeching cats to me but I thought it was great! I really wish I had known my grandparents – I feel like I missed out on a lot. I would so love to hear their stories. Now those stories are told in family legends. Imagine my Grandfather as a young boy working on the Clipper Ships out of Nova Scotia! What stories!
I think my favorite memorie of my MeMe was pies. She made the pineapple pie and with the leftover crust she would make cinnamon rolls. They were kind of crunchy but wonderful with a glass of milk.
The only mementos I have of my grandmother are knitted & crocheted items she made for me when I was a child. Beautiful cabled sweaters & vests, charming granny square afghans. She was from Ireland and took her knitting very seriously. And, I suppose, even more importantly, I have the knitting lessons she gave me, which I can now share with the people I love.
How special that you were able to save a piece of your grandparents home and will be able to incorporate it into your own home!
I loved reading your memories, the doors sound wonderful and I’m so glad you were able to get them.
With my grandma, I remember the wonderful time we had during the holidays, she made– home made Taffy and all of us would clean our hands then put butter on them and then pull Taffy for a long time before we could eat it.
It was a great time for all of us. She also knitted faster then I could see so she never could slow down to teach me, she lived to 96 years young and we all still miss her very much.
What a lovely door story. And I loved that the new owner was sensitive to your memories and made it possible for you to have the doors in your current home.
I have a treasure from my grandmother’s home, also. Grandma cared for an elderly woman during the woman’s dying days. The woman’s husband had no money, but wanted grandmother to have something special as a thank you. He asked her to come to his house and choose between a table and a three corner cupboard that he had made. Grandma choose the cupboard and was very proud of it because she had earned it herself. When Grandma moved to Florida, the cupboard was given to my mother. Recently, the cupboard made the trip from the East Coast to the West Coast to be in my home. I have memories of taking the ‘best’ dishes from the cupboard for my Grandma and memories of taking out the cut crystal for my mother. The cupboard now houses hand thrown pottery, woven baskets, and carved figurines. I think my grandma and my mother would be pleased that the cupboard is in my living room and continues to house treasures.
Sheri,
When my daughter was young we were 4 generations in one house. My Grandmother got to be with her Great-Granddaughter ervery day. It was a site to see. They both got to really get to know and love each other.
When my daughter was 5 years old my Grandmother passed on. I told my daughter she could have anything that belonged to my Grandmother. To our surprise she chose my Grnadmother’s change purse (remember those?). We asked her why she shose that and her reply was that Nana always had it to pay for things and it smelled like her.
We never know what it is that will remind us of our loved ones.
That is so kewl that you got the doors to the house. I ‘m sure hubby can make them fit.
What i remember most is my grandma’s bed. When i was over there most of the time when very young, my Mom would want me to lye down in her bed and take a nap.
I was scared so Grandma can and took me into the room and pointed to her pillow.
There was a head shape sunk into the pillow ( that i can still see today). She said to me – see hoppy-hobbin, I have done all the work and that is the sweet spot on the pillow.
When you lay down you will go right to sleep and have only happy dreams.
And wouldn’t you know it worked for me, and now I tell my Granddaugters the same thing and it works for them too.
I have always regretted never having grandparents. Both sets died before I was born or during the first year of my life. It was always such a mystery to me…what a grandmother must be like. My sister would share stories of “Ma” and “Pa” and I could only wonder. I’d see their pictures and imagine being held in her smooshie lap while she told stories of when my Dad was little. But an interesting thing happened. With the longing for grandparents, I had only to take a walk about my neighborhood to find one. There was Beulah and Bill, and thier dog Lady, who treated me to a walk in thier gardens every day, and showed me how the snap dragons had mouths that opened and closed. Mrs. Anderson, next door, who would invite me over during the summer to sit on her porch and play rummy while we drank root beer floats and ate peanut butter sandwiches with the crusts cut off…so fancy! Bessie Pritchard, with the warmest hugs for this shy girl, and who always had a treat for Smokey, my dog, in her pocket. Esther, two doors down, and Mrs. Higgins, too. Oh, the list was long when you lived in such a small town, where everyone knew everyone else, and had lived there forever…they filled the gap of the missing grandparents, and helped to create memories for a lifetime.
I have my grandmother’s engagement ring, which is very precious to me… to most it would seem tiny and not very impressive, but it is the only thing I have of hers and I treasure it.
I also have a hand knit baby blanket that my great grandmother made when my oldest brother was born in 1961, he was the first great grandchild, and when I gave birth to my grandparents’ first great grandchild (16 years ago!), I received the blanket. It is 45 years old now!
Thanks so much for sharing the story. It made me think of my grandparents house again. They sold it when they moved to assisted living nearly 2 years ago and I still can’t imagine anyone else living in it.
I have many memories of the house and things in it but the memory I’m sharing concerns my eldest daughter. When she was born I was working full time days while attending grad school and my husband was working crazy weird hours so my grandparents would pick my daughter up from daycare each afternoon and watch her until I got out of school late in the evening. It was wonderful because my daughter got really close to them and forged a bond that is really strong. When my daughter was about 18 months old we moved from NY to VA and on our first visit back to the house I was so worried. I had to see if she recognized the house where she had spent so much time. I was so relieved that she did.
Recently, when the house was sold, we were all invited to take something to remember it. My daughter chose a small desk lamp. My grandparents thought it was a weird choice because it’s a kitchy lamp that my uncle made in shop class but they let her take it. She uses it every night and the funny thing is that it always sends me right back to that house because it was so distinct and closely associated with the attic bedroom where it used to be.
Thank you for sharing your memories of your grandparents.
What I remember most was spending the night at my grandmas. When we would go to bed I would go into my Uncles room to look at the old radio with the big dial and glass tubes, she would turn it on and it would hum but no music. When grandma and I got up in the morning she would let me brush her long white hair before she would put it up in a bun. Then my job was to go out to the chicken coop and get the eggs for breakfast. BUT I had to make sure the chickens were out of the coop first. Then I had to search for the eggs because there were no spots for the nests just an old log and hay on the floor. After breakfast we would go to the pond and pick wild strawberries or raspberries and eat them as we picked them. We could tell grandma anything and she would listen as if we were the most important person in the world.
Thank you for your entry that made me think about my roots and heritage. I am so blessed to have known my maternal grandparents. My grandmother was a hardworking farm woman who taught me so much just by being the person she was. She was thrifty and practical. I think it is because of her that I have a love of all sorts of needle arts. She knit and sewed and quilted. I remember her making dolls for me when I was a and Barbie clothes too. When I got married, she gave me a double wedding ring quilt that she had made for me. She also had her rosewood rocker refinished and reupholstered for me. When she died I was fortunate to get a foot stool from her house that is covered in needlepoint that she made. It is so special to me, even the mistakes that are in it. In fact, when I look around my house and ask myself what do I own that is truly important to me, most of my list would be the old things that I have gotten from family.