The Case of the Missing Half Banana

This past week, I flew off to St. Louis to visit my parents and Grandmother. I left behind a sad Biceps and two kittens, but that’s another story for another day.

My parents moved in with my widowed 94 year old Grandmother years ago, allowing our visits to encompass a multi-generational fun fest.

She is quite the character-often praying for the squirrels “swollen bellies” and asking God to provide enough food for them. Little does she know, my dad scares the squirrels off the bird feeder with his BB gun-“motivating them to go into another yard”.

It’s quite the sitcom around that house.

Grandma is notorious for rising in the middle of the night and having a little snack. But she often won’t admit to it, or conveniently forgets she’s done so, when the next morning Mom tests her sugar levels and they are too high or too low.

I woke up one morning to Grandma and Mom already bustling around the kitchen and to this question posed by my Grandmother, “Did you eat half a banana last night?”.

Of course my answer was “No”. I like green bananas-not the bananas Grandma keeps that are on the verge of meltdown.

“Well, someone did,” Grandma responded. I looked at Mom who rolled her eyes.

So, I posed the question back to Grandma. “Did you eat half a banana, Grandma?”.

“No, or at least I don’t think I did,” she said and dug into her watered down cereal.

Hm….

“Well, if I didn’t and mom didn’t and dad didn’t…,” I said, pausing for her to come to her own conclusion.

“It must have been the cat!,” she said, victoriously. And took a bite from her toast, confident she had solved the case.

Grandma-Would I have made her proud?

I wasn’t able to get to know my mom’s mom. I’ve heard stories, seen countless pictures and can assume from the retellings that I may know what her personality was like. But, I only have other’s perceptions to draw from.

I’ve never heard her voice, saw her hand gestures or seen my own mother in her. These are the things that I’ve missed getting to know about her, since she passed away at the young age of 53.

This is my Grandmother (my mom’s mom) as a teenager.
I wonder if she would have the same bizarre sense of humor that I do, if she would have read my blog, if she liked cats.

 

I wonder if she would think we looked alike-seeing me dressed up like this.

And I wonder how I could I miss a person that I never even knew.

One of the World’s Greatest Grandma’s

During all of the hustle and bustle, it’s important to remember why we do it all.
You see, I have one of the world’s greatest Grandma’s. She is generous, kind, loves kids and always has a story ready at the helm.

I love her and will continue making her a loaf of banana bread each Christmas-after all, it’s a “healthy snack”, according to her-due to the bananas. But, so is ice cream because it’s a “dairy product”. She ignores the whole sugar thing…

I kind’ve owe her since she made the world’s best Dad. He’s the guy with the beard right next to Grandma-sporting the purple hat.

It’s easy to forget why we are spending so much time on each gift, card sent or goodies baked. I want to remember while I’m wrapping presents, baking goodies or sewing one last present together that just why I am doing it.
Merry Christmas!

The Mysterious Handkerchief Box

Two small boxes, wrapped in matching snowmen paper, sat below a tiny Christmas tree at Grandma G.’s home last year. Both were labeled, ‘Rebekah or Mel’. Grandma informed us that we would have to decide who gets what box.
After a quick wrestling match, complete with a few well-placed uppercuts, my sis-in-law Mel chose her box first as I nursed my bloody nose.
Once I had recovered, I removed the snowmen paper, revealing this mysterious box.

Grandma had no recollection of where she purchased the box, how long ago she had done so or who had made it.
Mel’s box was quite similar, but the shape was more rectangular. Her box was labeled, ‘Gloves’.

Other than the hinges you see here, the box was entirely made of wood which was exquisitely decorated.

There is no ‘maker’s mark’ on the box anywhere. I have investigated it thoroughly. (They don’t call me Nancy Drew for nuthin’).

The inside lid of the box is almost identical to the outside lid, sans the hand painting.

It’s so delicate, so unique. Grandma even included two handkerchiefs which still live inside the box.

I would love to know the history behind this mysterious box-the maker, the possible time period it was created and how it was crafted.
If you know anything about this handkerchief box, please let me in on your secret. This curious kitty is dying to know.