Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Hairpins from Heaven

For some reason, I've been thinking of my Great-grandmother Evans lately. She's my maternal great-gram whom I used to visit at least once a month with my Gram when I was younger. She had a kick-ass doll house I'd play with. I've always been more the dirt&sticks type instead of dolls&dress-up, but this dollhouse was truly the shiznet! It had everything. A chandelier, oriental rugs, a little TV - and it was wired! The little switches actually turned on lights. The TV glowed with the picture of a clown. This dollhouse was like a mini-mansion to me.
Grammy Evan's house always had dishes of dried apricots, and Andies candies. When we visited, she'd send us home with all the Meals on Wheels food she didn't eat (which was most of it). My Grammy Evans is the only person in my family I have no ill memories of. I'm sure there were times she scolded me, once I ate her wax fruit because I thought the grapes were real, but I don't recall her being anything but sweet.

My Grandfather Evans died before I was born. Grammy Evans visited him every Sunday. They had a dual plot, with a shrub on each side of the headstone. Before she left, Grammy Evans would pull a hairpin from her head, bend down, and place it in the soil beneath Grandfather's shrub.

She said it was "So he'll know I'm here to see him, and that I miss him, but I'm not quite ready to join him yet." Then she would pull out her hankerchif and wave to him before she left.

The hankerchif is a trademark of hers the family has carried on. Grammy Evans used to go to a church retreat at Lake Chautauqua. At the end of the week, when everyone left, the people who ran the camp would take out their hankerchiefs and wave everyone off. Grammy Evans said it meant, "We're sorry that you're going and we'll miss you. We hope to see you again soon, but you'll be in our thoughts until then."

Grammy Evans started waving the Chautauqua Good-Bye when visitors would leave. Now, my family stands on the porch in jammies, with their toes buried in inches of snow for nearly an hour Christmas as visitors depart. Everyone keeps a box of tissues by the door, or in their car, so they're always ready to give the Chautauqua Good-Bye.

When my Great-grandmother Evans passed away, Gram took all the hairpins from Grammy's apartment and handed them out to everyone at the funeral. We each put a hiarpin under the bush beside Grandfather's plot. Gram said it would "Trumpet to him that she's coming, so he'll be there waiting for her when she arrives." Then, we all took out tissues and waved the Chautauqua Good-Bye to Grammy.

The reverend said it was the oddest and most touching funeral she'd seen. I always think fondly of it. Odd to think fondly of a funeral, but I can't think of a more suiting way to have said good-bye to her. I think we all felt better knowing Grandfather was waiting for her. Like I said, I have nothing but good memories of her, and her funeral is no exception.

Gram has since moved into a new house. She tells me that every so often, she finds a hairpin on the floor. The house was cleaned thoroughly before she moved in, and Gram doesn't have any hairpins of her own. It's as though they pop up through the beams in the hard wood floors. Gram says they're from Grammy Evans, so we know she's watching over us.


This post was partially inspired by a post about Pennies from Heaven at The Midnight Hour, a blog group of some wonderful paranormal authors - go check them out.

2 comments:

Mignon said...

That IS an incredibly touching and entertaining send-off. I wish I had a trademark anything. Jim told me once he could find me in a grocery store because I'm always clearing my throat. Shall I have everyone do that at my funeral? Wouldn't that be sweet?

You asked what genre I liked, right? I can't say I have a particular favorite. My favorite author hands-down without any question is Raymond Carver. Second favorite, because she reminds me of him, but in a younger, Indian-American female way is Jhumpa Lahiri. I've really been wanting to read Angle of Repose by Wallace Stegner, but I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to tackle it. I'm a little afraid myself.

Flood said...

I got goosebumps thinking of hairpins creeping through floor boards. Great post