I remember the back door of Grandma’s house swinging open. I can still hear the spring stretching, squeaking and pulling the door shut with a solid thunk. I can see the porcelain kitchen sink, the linoleum floor and the baker’s cabinet where she stored all that she needed to make noodles or cookies…I can still see it all.
In my mind, I can return to the times when I sat under the arbor, picking Concord grapes that hung from above. I remember chewing on the tough skins and spitting them out on the grass, and Grandma was in the yard maybe pulling weeds from among the day lilies along the side of the house or clipping some baby’s breath to add to a bouquet. She would point out to me the pansies planted in a shady spot near the porch, and sometimes she would pick one of the purple-and-yellow blooms, press it between pages of an old book, and use it to decorate a handmade card or bookmark months later, after it was flat and dry.
When we arrived, she pulled out her sugar cookies. Instead of rolling them out and cutting them into shapes, she would drop them onto the cookie sheet and sprinkle some colored sugar on top or stick a gumdrop in the middle, or a piece of pecan. She stored them in a green pan, a vintage roasting pan. As soon as we arrived, my brother and I wanted some “Grandma cookies.” I hunted for the ones with gumdrops or sprinkles.
Not long ago, my mom pulled out the green pan and offered it to my sister-in-law or me. My sister-in-law was delighted—it matched her kitchen in both color and style. Then something shifted. I was happy to let her have it, but maybe my eyes said something else. Honestly, my brother ate as many sugar cookies plucked from that pan as I did. He deserved it as much as anyone.
But my sister-in-law said I should have it. She wanted me to have it, she said, and though I knew it would look perfect in her kitchen, and though I knew my brother would cherish it, I accepted the pan.
Even though it doesn’t match my kitchen, the pan sits on top of my refrigerator. I see it every day, many times a day, and I store small treats in it, like Hershey’s Kisses or leftover Valentine’s candies.
After reading Nancy’s post about her own grandmother’s cookie jar, I couldn’t get the green pan out of my head.
Nancy wrote:
Grandma’s cookie jar always sat atop the refrigerator in the old farmhouse kitchen, and I remember looking up at it as a child and imagining it contained the same kinds of cookies that decorated it, ones cut in heart and flower shapes and decorated in sugary pink and green icing…At the time, it never occurred to me that having cookies on hand for the grandchildren was a luxury my hardworking farming grandparents could barely afford….Years later when I was cleaning things out of my mother’s house and came across the cookie jar, I knew I wanted to have it, to hold onto it.
I know the feeling. I want to hold onto the wooden door that thunked shut, and the pansies, and the grape arbor, and the baker’s cabinet, and the green pan and the sugar cookies with the gumdrops stuck in the center.
Grandma passed away in 1987, and the house is gone now. The wooden door, the pansies, and the arbor—all gone.
But I do have the recipe for Grandma’s sugar cookies.
And the green pan in which to store them.
This post is part of Charity Singleton’s TheHighCalling.org (THC) community project, “There & Back Again.”
Go THERE: Out of My Alleged Mind to read “Grandma’s Cookie Jar,” then come back HERE again!Each Thursday, consider going “There and Back Again” yourself. It’s simple.Here are Charity’s steps:
- Choose another High Calling Blogger to visit. It can be someone you have “met” before, or do what I do, and work your way through the “Member Posts” section of thehighcalling.com to meet someone new.
- Visit his blog, digesting the message until it becomes something that you can write about.
- Go back to your blog and write about it, being sure to link to the post that gave you the idea so that your readers can visit, too.
- Add the button to your blog so your readers know you are participating in “There and Back Again.”
- Go back to the Network blog and leave a comment so your new friend can feel the link love!
- Complete the journey by returning here, to Wide Open Spaces, and enter your link so that we all can benefit from the new High Calling connection you have made.
What an evocative piece, Ann. I visited Nancy’s too, and loved them both. My grandmas were both incredibly giving, and I love hearing about your experiences. The intersection of food, fellowship and family seem to be recurring themes around THC–and since they’re all spiritually nourishing and absolutely necessary for an abundant life, I know why.
“The intersection of food, fellowship and family.” I like that a lot. That’s what I’ve been inspired to write since the start of The Spirit of Food book club. You captured in one simple phrase what I’ve been leaning toward for weeks.
“Intersection of food, fellowship, and family.” I like that too. Thanks for visiting and for your kind words.
Ann — This was absolutely beautiful, your memory of your grandmother’s home and habits is such a gift. And that pan, oh that pan! I love it. Now I’ll know where to look for the goodies when I come over! Heading over Nancy’s to read about the cookie jar.
As always. thanks for being a loyal friend and going there and back again with me. You’re the best!
Every time I even sit down to write one memory of my grandmother, I fall apart. It happened even with this simple piece. I’ve been planning to write something for THC.org, but I get all snotted up with grief. How can I miss her so deeply after all these years?
Oh, do tell me you are going to share the recipe for your Grandma’s cookies! I’m in the airport waiting to fly from my home in sunny Orlando up to cold Baltimore to visit my family, including my 96 year old grandmother. She always baked the very best cookies. I’ll have to ask her how she made some of them. I remember some that were made of crackers covered with some sweet coating. I can remember the kitchen in her Pennsylvania homestead out in the woods. I met the Lord as my Savior out in those woods during a family reunion in 1976. That is an even sweeter memory than cookies.
Ask your grandmother! Absolutely, you must collect the wonderful recipes and memories to enjoy later. And these are such beautiful recollections packed into one short comment. Thank you for taking time to write!
Memories are so sweet, even when pain is involved, because we miss the person who is now in heaven. I remember my Grandmother’s biscuits. I would brag on them because she made the most delicious and light biscuits from scratch. She would say (in front of my siblings, causing steam to come from my sister’s ears) – – I made these just for Hazel. She did make cookies, but her biscuits stand out in my memory.
Ann! You are so kind, introducing me to so many sweet people. Thank you. I have loved the glimpses of others’ childhood memories shared here. Blessings, Ann.
Oh Ann, your post made me cry! It’s absolutely beautiful. Thank you for sharing your wonderful memories of your Grandma. She’d be so pleased that you have her green pan, and that you enjoy using it!
When my family and moved back to New Jersey after my son had died, we lived with my parents for a year and kept all our things in storage. I thought I really would need to get rid of a lot of stuff because the memories it triggered would be too painful to live with day in and day out.
As we began unpacking when we got into our own place, I realized that I wanted to cherish, not get rid of, all those memories. The new home that itself held no memories was enough to psychologically move me foreward while honoring the past.
All this to say, I’m so glad you got to keep the pan, which is beautiful. It tells you a story of love that no one else has to know about.