Applesauce and Sugar Cookies

[mrdreamjeans]

I woke up this morning with a powerful longing to see someone who passed away nearly three decades ago. Maybe the longing was triggered by the upcoming holidays; perhaps it’s because Halloween was the 29th anniversary of this person’s death. It could be because I’m on the road and the concept of “home” seems distant. But the truth is, something as simple as the aroma of baking cookies can bring memories of her from the past and make her so present to me, that I want to say hello and tell her I love her. I miss Grandma Fritts.

My grandmother was born in 1892. Her maiden name was Nettie Caroline Diehl. She was one of eight children and the first of her family born in America. The Diehls were from Germany, and after immigrating, settled in the Great Lakes area, mostly in Erie, Pennsylvania and Cleveland, Ohio.

Grandma Fritts was in her sixties when I was born. My grandfather and she had five children. Uncle Bob and Uncle Ken were born when she was in her twenties; my mother, my Aunt Janet and my Uncle Dale were born when she was respectively 41, 43 and 47 years of age (This was the 1930s.). I still am amazed at her strength in raising what was essentially two families. I am still in awe of this example of how passion can continue throughout a long and happy marriage.

Grandma and Grandpa raised their family with with equal doses of affection and discipline (Grandma had rules); they survived the Great Depression a bit bent, but unbowed. They worked hard their entire lives with the health and happiness of their family foremost in their hearts. The Fritts family was and is a fine example of blue-collar success.

Nettie Caroline Fritts was a tough lady. She was tall... a big lady. She had shining, white hair that she wore in braids, pinned up into a bun on top of her head. When we were young, she would take her hair down and it would cascade down to the floor and my sister and I would be allowed to brush it. She would sit patiently, telling us stories, as we creatively arranged it:)

In my mind I see Grandma in a flowered-print house dress, most often with an apron covering it, baking goodies. Grandma was a baking goddess. I especially remember one summer when my mother, sister, brother and I stayed with her. My Dad was in South Africa working and we stayed in Erie with Grandma. As I sit here, I can see my brother, sister and I collecting apples from the tree in her backyard. A couple of hours later, they were applesauce. The scent of Grandma’s sugar cookies baking is so strong right now, I can almost taste them.

Grandma’s cookies were the size of coffee saucers, thick, best when taken out of the oven a bit underdone and piping hot. Boy, did I like to dip them in milk. My Mom and sister still use her recipe, baking them during the holidays. Often I’m in charge of decorating. I like mine with lots of frosting. Frosting is a separate food group in our family:)

My other most favorite memory of Grandma Fritts was watching her make bean-bag clown dolls which she sold for extra income. Colleen, Jeff and I would help her sell them and right now I wish I had one; each clown had a unique expression. No two dolls were of the same fabric or trim. They were charming.

I was a difficult pre-teen. I was chubby (though Grandma called it big-boned) with a flat top and an attitude. I had dreams and a very vivid imagination. I was always singing and dancing around the house and I’m certain my parents were bewildered by their eldest child. With grandma, I felt safe, felt that she understood me, though I didn’t understand myself.

At one point, I ran away from home to live with her. “Running away” consisted of insisting that Dad drive me to Grandma’s house 130 miles away. I lasted three days with her, then begged Dad to come get me. I was bewildered that she too had rules. (I’m shaking my head at how awful I was between the ages of 11 and 14:)

My grandmother, who had a lovely alto voice, predicted that I would be a singer/performer when I grew up. She told my parents this fact when I was eleven years old. I’m sure Mom and Dad were sceptical; after all, at the time we lived in a town of 500 people on the Pennsylvania/ New York state line and no one in our family history had ever followed such a path. But Grandma believed in me and that gave me the determination to make my dream come true.

Grandma suffered a massive stroke in 1974. I was performing in an outdoor musical in Palo Duro Canyon near Amarillo, Texas that summer. When I heard she had the stroke, I took an extra job working at a convalescent home. For a couple of months, I took care of quadriplegics, changed colostomy bags, bathed seniors who were double amputees. I even had a man die while I was shaving him, my first brush with death.

I learned a lot during that time. I provided all types of care for people in need. I never thought I could do this kind of work, but my love for my grandmother triumphed over my aversion to the tasks at hand. I wanted to learn how to take care of a person recovering from a stroke. I was going to come to Grandma’s rescue.....I was going to save her.

Grandma never fully recovered from the stroke and I never saw her again, but my instincts to help her, to honor her, were correct. She wasn’t perfect, but I loved her dearly. In her final years, she was still quite the baker, but burned all other food. Nothing could be too well-done. I can see now that she was fighting to hold her place, to be a contributing member of the household.

She moved with us to Texas, but only lasted a year in Houston before we moved her back to Pennsylvania. During that time, we did get her off an addictive medication for “hardening of the arteries”, but she made my mother’s life hell. Two strong mothers in one home is one too many. In contrast, after we moved her back to Erie, she continually told everyone how much she missed Texas.

Grandma Fritts could be obstinate and demanding, but it was her strength and determination that had allowed her to raise five children and live to enjoy 28 grandchildren. Each of us had a special relationship with her. As a grandson, who was totally different from all of her other grandchildren, I appreciate even more fully today, how much she loved me and how much her belief in me mattered.

I wish Grandma was alive right now, but of course, as I remember her. I’d like her to know that she was right about my career. I’d to share my success with her. I’d like her to see that her prediction came true. I’d like her to hear me sing. I’d like to be back in that kitchen with her this morning.... making applesauce and sugar cookies.

Comments

[bigredpaul.livejournal.com]

This is one of the sweetest things I've read on LiveJournal for a long time. It makes me long for my Grandma Allen. Thank you for sharing.

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

Thanks for reading it and understanding that it comes from a place of love.

[ex-quietdanm235.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much for sharing these wonderful memories! She reminds me of my own great-grandmother, born in 1894, as they seem to have many similar characteristics.

I think you are sharing your success with her. She does hear you sing. I'd believe that she is one of your guardian angels.

[ciddyguy.livejournal.com]

My sentiments exactly Dan.

I was going to say something like that, but didn't.

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

I never thought of it that way, but I believe that well may be true. Of course, let me point out the obvious, my grandmother and your great-grandmother were born two years apart. You must be a youngin:)

[ex-quietdanm235.livejournal.com]

Nice to know that 36 still counts as young!

Hope you are well!

[ciddyguy.livejournal.com]

That is indeed a very sweet post Neil.

I, too, am lucky to have known one Grandmother well. Sadly, she passed away in 1991 of a stroke. She was in her 80's I think. My Dad's parents both died long before I was born. His mom while he was still young, his father in the late 50's I think and got to know my oldest sister a little before his passing. My Mom's father passed away when she was I think 5 in the mid 30's if I'm right, so, only one grandmother.

I'll have to post about my one and only grandmother, whom we called "Mammy". She was a dear soul, even if she did drive us all bonkers after spending a whole summer visiting about every other year or so. :-)

Again, thanks for sharing a wonderfully writin and meloncholy post.

[bruinwi.livejournal.com]

While I miss my grandmother dearly, I grew up with her as part of our household. She was a part of my life from the day I was born until I moved out on my own. Even now, her influence in my life is apparent (Why else would I come off as such a prude in Bear chat rooms?).

Were she to majikally reappear in her prime, my current lifestyle would be a source of utter scandal and disgrace to her: Her grandson, a homosexual (The first two syllables pronounced the same as in homogenize or homonym), LIVING WITH A BLACK MAN??? If the first part weren't bad enough, the latter would push her over the edge.

I love the memory of my grandmother. Her nurturing aspect was beyond compare, and her loving influence covered areas I can't begin to imagine, but it's also obvious that I've out-grown her, as well.

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

As always, you make complete sense and offer the reality versus the ideal of a memory. I think that both of our grandmothers would have been scandalized and critical initially, but ultimately come around to acceptance and loving us for who we are. But then again - perhaps, that's my innate optimism speaking:)

[bruinwi.livejournal.com]

Hate to burst your bubble, dear, but my grandmother's reaction to my coming out was, "I don't ever want you to kiss me again; I KNOW where that mouth has been!" Granted, she was a good year-and-a-half ahead of me, but you get the idea. Once she found out that Nap and I were living together, she demanded I bring back the B/W TV she had given me. No big shakes, as Nap was working for Sears at the time; we quickly bought a new one on his employee's discount. Frankly, I was surprised she deined to speak to me. She was never one to forgive or forget. Within a year of that, however, she suffered a broken hip and slid into dementia. Whatever scandal I may have brought her was forgottn as she was actively hallucinating both visually and aurlally. She eventually died of congestive heart failure in a nursing home. In short, she wasn't given the time to adjust, and knowing her bigotted mindset and stubbroness, she was both unable and unwilling to make such a change.

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

I appreciate your candor, my friend. I always value your honesty and perspective. However, I do live in a place of optimisim; I think the key is time. When I came out to my parents, my mother starting screaming at me to the point where I blacked out. She also said, "Why can't you just be nothing? Believe me, sex after 40 is no big deal." (I was 36.)

I held my ground though and she did come around, when I told her I was prepared to live without her in my life...that I had friends who loved me uncondtionally and they were my family too.... that I understood that it took me 36 years to have THE conversation and it might take them 36 years to accept the news... Fortunately, they came around much sooner.

My parents bonded with both of my partners and absolutely adore Tim (gotmoof) and act like an surrogate parents. I never could have predicted that joyful happening. I was fortunate in how my parents have responded and I know that this is not anyone's experience, but my own.

Thanks for sharing and keeping me grounded in reality.

[bruinwi.livejournal.com]

TAke heart. My story is not all doom and gloom.

My mother was the "success" story. She was murderously angry when I came out; after all, some gold-digging nigger had seduced and warped her baby boy. However, when my older sister came out a couple years later, Mother realized that I was not just an anomoly. Besides, I had moved out by that time and was living in Minnesota; my sister was still in our home town. Within a year of my sister's coming out Mom became the shoulder on which she could cry when her love affairs fell apart. Our kid sister's coming out was hard on Mom, because she was the last hold-out for grandchildren. She quickly rallied, tho, and became our biggest backer.

Of the three parent-figures, Mom's death hit me the hardest. At the age of 47, I no longer needed a mother, but I had lost a dear friend that I had known all my life as "Mom".

Swedish Tea Cake

[nlotic.livejournal.com]

Swedish Tea Cake and my Grandma are always tied together in my mind

Hugs to the "pre-teen Neil", "teen Neil" and of couse "present day Neil"

Re: Swedish Tea Cake

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

Hugs accepted and registered:)

About Grandma Badders

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

I paid tribute to my Grandma Fritts in this post, but I also loved my Grandma Badders dearly. They were competely different women. Grandma Badders saw a lot of tragedy in her life, but she didn't let it get her down. She lost her husband at a relatively young age, had a daughter killed in a car accident with a train and had a daughter scarred by scarlett fever who lived her entire life at her mother's side.

But what I remember the most about Grandma Badders was the fun. She was a messy housekeeper, but imaginative and a bit crazy; her home was filled with laughter and secrets. She had a wicked sense of humor and we adored her. (She used to take her teeth out and chase around the house...she was a hellraiser!)

Dad's mom was 4"11" tall and weighed 160 lbs... Dad was her "change of life" baby at the age of 40 and I think she decided to enjoy a second childhood along with him. Grandma Fritts was the disciplinarian. Grandma Badders was the first to try something new. I think I benefited from being a product of both sides of the family:)

[cimarrondfw.livejournal.com]

Since genealogy is one of my favorite pastimes and I grew up in a woman-dominated family where I knew both of my grandmothers and a great-grandmother well, I relate to this tale well. Although you undoubtedly are much younger than I am, our grandmothers seem to have been contemporaries. My paternal grandmother was born in 1890, and the maternal one in 1899.