One Fine Lady

As I did with my Great-Aunt Eleanor, I shall give you my thoughts on my Grandma Hilda Caroline. She was born December 1, 1914. The oldest of six, her sister Freida and brothers Arthur, Earl, Ivan, and Virgil came after. Hilda and Freida are German names. Caroline was Grandma's Great-Grandma who came from Germany with her missionary priest husband and children. They first came to Texas, then Iowa, and settled finally South Dakota. Some children married and stayed in Iowa and the rest did the same in South Dakota. All of Grandma's ancestors are buried in the same church cemetery she attended all her life. Grandma placed peonies (pronounced like pinies by Grandma) in coffee cans at the tombstones.

Yes my Grandma is 100% German-American. Although we never celebrated Octoberfest, all the Bibles are printed in German. Mom said Grandma's Grandpa who came from Prussia and fought in the American Civil War said after World War I that they were Americans now, we speak English. According to many witnesses, when Grandma's church decided to start conducting English worship services, many were outraged at losing their German services.
By the time I met Grandma, the only German word she spoke was when I sneezed, Gesundheit (I think on spelling). Grandma attended a one-room schoolhouse until she was 13, Grandpa survived at another one-room school until age 14. During Prohibition, Grandma said she asked her father why he made wine if it was illegal. He said, Because everybody was doing it too. The Great Depression remained vivid long into old age. Grandma said the banks in Milo closed after one foreclosed on Great-Grandpa's farm. Great-Grandpa's brother bought it at a auction so they did not have to move. She said at their poorest time she and her siblings would walk through pastures to stir the rabbits so her father could shoot them. Whatever he killed was what they had to eat.

Grandma's father one day bought a guitar and Grandma was the only one who played it. She would play as her sister sang at church socials and anywhere they could for money. The priest today mentioned Grandma was a lady because she cared about her appearance and dressed up always. Well, Grandma said that people said her sister was the pretty one while Grandma hated her buck teeth and very self-conscious of her appearance. Instead of shaving like Grandpa to remove hair, she would burn herself on the stove to remove hair. She thought she was ugly if she had hair on her arms. That is why her skin became paper thin. Later in life, Grandma had the dentist remove her corroded and crooked teeth. I only knew her with dentures.

Grandma married Grandpa during the Great Depression. A cousin drove them to a courthouse and were married with only the cousin present. It makes me feel sad that some women believe they HAVE to have a huge wedding with all the trimmings to make them the center of attention because their day must be perfect. After 60 years of marriage, they renewed their vows "to do it right" at the church they attended. The priest speaking also did the renewal as well as Grandpa's funeral. If 64 years of marriage does not say they loved each other a great deal, I do not know what would.

After they returned in 1937 as a couple, Grandpa was sick for a week. Sorry, no honeymoon in the Depression. Grandma was 23 and Grandpa was 17. Grandma said she wore a blue suit to her wedding and Grandpa wore a gray suit. And they wore the same type of clothes at their vow renewal. The couple then moved in with Grandpa's Great-Uncle Tommy, Great-Aunt Roxie, and their adopted daughter Elsie who never was married. Grandpa's parents divorced as a kid and after several years of misery and hate letters Mom found in a sewing machine drawer, Grandpa was sent to live with his mother's uncle when he was 10 and Grandpa's sister lived with another relative.

Soon, my Daddy was born. Elsie believed Daddy could do no wrong, which probably explains his arrogence. Roxie loved to make scrapbooks I enjoyed looking at and wrote in diaries. Every diary entry begins with "I did my morning chores". Grandma wrote in 5-year diaries every day until Grandpa died. My Daddy's 2 sisters came afterwards. The second sister was born the year World War II ended. Grandma's 3 brothers and a cousin came back from war. The fourth brother was too young to fight. He is only 6 years older than Daddy. So my Daddy grew in a 4-room house (kitchen, living room, bedroom, and attic bedroom) with a total of 8 people. Yet, unlike Mom, Dad has happy memories of his childhood growing up poor. They had a separate building for a summer kitchen. I never understood the purpose of a summer kitchen until my Mom started canning fruits and vegetables. I learned to stay out of the HOT kitchen during canning time.

After Tommy and Roxie died, Grandma suggested that Grandpa work for the railroad. Big money and good benefits. Mom met Elsie before she died and she still adored my Dad. They moved out of the Little Shack in the Woods and moved to a large house in my hometown. They bought their newly made house at an auction. Grandma said my aunts were terrified at the size of this house and slept downstairs for a while. Upstairs were 3 bedrooms and bathroom. Downstairs were living room, dining room, kitchen, and bedroom where where my grandparents slept until Dad moved out. They took over his bedroom upstairs. I think they added on a back porch. The front porch had a large porch swing I loved. Oh yes, a badly made basement Dad has to fix because every time it rains, it floods. A garage for one car and cellar next to it. My cousin and I loved running up and down the cellar door. They had spruce, magnolia, willow, awful apple, red cherry, and yellow cherry trees. The cherry trees were cut down when Grandpa rebuilt a garage. The old garage and cellar were tore up. In their place is a vinyl siding garage the size and shape of a big white barn. The only one in town.

As I recall in my childhood, Grandma loved her plants and possessed magic to cure any ailing plant. My Mom kills every plant she touches. My cousin and I loved walking along a circle of stones surrounding a flower bed. Grandma had plants everywhere. One bedroom was full of plants that we never played in it until plants started disappearing. Spring meant Grandma would ask us to stand in flowers outside and she would take our picture. Grandma played her guitar and sang nursey rhymes with interjections of our names. She was not a great singer, but we grandchildren never cared. My cousin and I danced and sang along. Grandma sewed quilts by hand and home made noodles. I did ask for her noodle recipe once, though I only made them once.

Grandma played cards with her friends and hosted the 4 of the July. She always let her grandchildren win every game we played. Once my cousin believed she was a checkers champion and challenged everyone to play with her. She lost to her brother. Her brother asked if Grandma lets her win. One thing I learned from Grandma's fragility is to help pick up toys when we are done. Making Grandma pick up the mess is rude and disrespectful. Another thing I learned is to label pictures in photo albums so the next generation knows who these people are.
Anytime Mom went shopping, we were left with Grandma for the afternoon. My little cousin came over every time she heard I was there. We had many sleepovers at Grandma's house. It was here where my cousin begged for me to tell her stories in bed. I would look around the room for ideas. Grandma's ferns became a forest and animal figurines became the characters. Her flower wallpaper became gardens where nursey rhyme figurines danced and played. Because of my little cousin, I got practice creating stories. When my parents went on a vacation when I was 13, I stayed with my grandparents. Grandma told Mom that I was the perfect angel. You can imagine Mom's shock at that. I helped with dishes (the chore I hate the most), dusting, vacuuming, and did my homework without being told. Grandma never asked if my homework was done. My grandparents traveled extentially across the highways in a motor home until Grandpa sold it. Which means tons of vacation slides in a box. Grandpa loved his home movie and slide shows. I practiced shadow puppets.

Holidays were celebrated at my grandparents house. Easter egg hunts, watermelon picnic at the end of summer, and Christmas dinner. I remember my Grandma fussing in the kitchen before dinners and sat down last. I can hear my aunt telling Grandma to sit down at dinner table because Grandma had to make sure everyone else was happy first. One day my little cousin carved our names in a magnolia tree we pretended was a house. On the tree limbs we pretend was our bedrooms, we scratched "(Our name) was here" into the bark. Last I checked, my scratches were barely visible. I dreamed as a kid I would someday bring my future husband and kids to the magnolia tree to show what I did as I kid. I guess now that will never happen. After Dad fixes the house, he will sell it.

What does one say about someone who was always around. They lived 3 blocks away so I saw regularly until I left for college. Now they both rest next to a tombstone the size of a piano (not joking). Grandpa wanted no one to be able to tip over his tombstone and his family could find him to leave flowers. I'm sure Grandma had a heart attack looking at the bill for it.
Anyway I think this entry is long enough. So now Grandma's epitaph:
The Fairie Hilda was one fine lady who had it all. Good-bye Grandma. Another candle is added to my collection. Post Later.