I had a long dream about my grandmother’s house last night.
I can remember every detail of this place that meant a great deal to me. And I
woke up remembering that she passed in June, twenty years ago now.
My dad’s mother was Frances Ellen (Rivers) Vensel and we lived near
her my entire childhood. I got my middle name from her—Frances—and although I
thought I didn’t like being called Mary Frances growing up, I miss it now.
I gave my only daughter the name Frances too.
When we were very small, there
were many of us granddaughters and when she’d get our names mixed up, she’d
call us Genevieve in exasperation. And this is partly where Geneva got
her other name, from this imagined granddaughter. Grandma Vensel was kind,
smart and funny.
Her house was immaculate, as my mom would say. Her bathroom
shelves held amazing powders, creams and perfumes, and she was always put
together—clothes, makeup, hair. I’d go to her house by myself and sleep until
noon, then we’d play pinochle for hours. After a surgery she had, she didn’t like her
voice, but she sang in church anyway—softly, a beat behind everyone else.
She
showed her disapproval in quiet ways, and her affection and loyalty was matter-of-fact. She
was a steadfast support and great friend of my mother’s. She loved my grandpa
and I believe she missed him terribly every day after he passed.
She was the
only person I ever saw stand up to my father. She loved golf—especially
Chi
Chi Rodriguez—also Bing Crosby and Bob Hope, and when I asked who her favorite
singer was, she’d say Engelbert Humperdinck to make me laugh. Sometimes, she’d
have a drink or two and be a little boisterous.
She secretly smoked in the
garage, where she kept the 1972 Chevelle she truly loved. The car was also immaculate. She wore driving
gloves and sometimes, scarves tied expertly around her throat. And she loved
me, and all of us, and showed us how to be strong, dignified and true.
There
was more to her, of course, much, much more, but she was very important to me,
and still is. I keep the last picture nearby, to remind me how fun she could
be.
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