Do It Yourself

Patrick and I are currently working on a DIY project. We have undertaken redoing the kitchen cabinets. We are doing it in sections, stripping, sanding, painting and new hardware.

We are both working on the project, however we usually don’t work on the same thing at the same time. I find myself spending a lot of time working alone and thinking. It is a pleasant time and stirs up memories of other projects I have worked on as well as stories of others who have influenced my DIY inclination.

I am fortunate to have had two Grandmothers who were strong, self sufficient women. I did not have a Grandfather that I remember, but both of my Grandmothers lived long, full lives and were in my life until I was an adult.

They were both do it yourself women, long before it was trendy and without the benefit of HGTV, Google and You Tube videos.

Both of my Grandmothers continually updated and improved their homes. They did a lot of the work themselves. They were often helped by extended family and I think they probably influenced not only me but probably my parents, aunts, uncles and cousins.

I am sure they were motivated to “do it yourself” because of limited financial resources, but I think it likely they also enjoyed the work, the sense of accomplishment and seeing the end result. Their generation needed to be self sufficient and they were willing to work hard to better their life and their home.

This afternoon I was painting cabinet doors on the kitchen counter and I thought of one of my favorite stories about my Grandma Dean.

My Grandma Dean, is my Dad’s Mother. She lived past her 101st year. I did not find out until after she had passed on that she was a real “Rosie the Riveter” assembling wings on Navy planes during WWII. She was the most peaceful person I have ever known. If something went wrong or broke or didn’t come out as expected, she would shake her head and say “it doesn’t matter” and it was forgotten.

Grandma Dean and my Mother had a special bond. They were “in-laws” only in name. Through the years their love for each other and mutual respect was obvious. They both excelled at story telling. My Mother called her Mother-in-law “Mrs. Dean”. Mama said she was once asked why she didn’t call Grandma by her first name. Did she not like her Mother-in-Law? Mama said she loved Mrs. Dean and she knew Grandma loved her. I think it was a matter of respect and admiration.

As the story goes, my Grandmother was painting her dining room. My Mother was there helping Grandma paint. I remember my Grandmother’s Dining room in the house that my Daddy lived in as a boy. It wasn’t a large room, as I remember, but had a table that was dark, probably mahogany, a buffet and a China cabinet. I remember the buffet and the table being in the room. I don’t remember the placement of the China cabinet but I know it must have been there, as it still exists today.

I am sure the room was crowded. Mama and Grandma were painting and Grandma somehow knocked over the can of paint. I can imagine her immediate reaction was “Oh my goodness.” (That was the strongest reaction I remember her having to anything.) According to Mama, Grandma hurried over to the buffet and pulled out a gravy ladle and started ladling the spilled paint back in the bucket.

Mama said that she was shocked and said, “Mrs. Dean, that is your Sterling Silver Gravy Ladle.”

Grandma’s calm reply was, “Honey when I am painting, nothing is sacred.”

Thru the years one or the other of them would tell this story. Grandma enjoyed laughing at herself.

A simple story, my memories are of the retelling.

My Mother and my Grandmothers were three women who greatly influenced who I am.

Thank you Grandma Parish for showing me how to be strong and persevere.

Thank you Grandma Dean for showing me how to be grateful and “not sweat the small stuff.”

Thank you Mama for pushing me to always be the very best I can be.

Love and a Peace.

Linda