Dirty Dishes

When I was a kid, my Grandma Mantle used to come and stay the winter with us in South GA. I am sure it wasn't always easy to have her there for 3 or 4 months, but it allowed my brother and I to have a relationship with her that we wouldn't have otherwise had. I have an odd memory bank, and really only remember snippits of her times with us. I can vividly remember her helping me hand stitch a turkey for a project in my gifted class. I remember how angry she was the time I let a stranger bring me home after a bike wreck. And I remember clearing the table and cleaning the kitchen when she was around. She would constantly fuss at us for stacking the dishes. "If you stack the dishes, you will have to wash the bottoms too!" was her constant chorus as my brother and I cleared dishes and loaded the dishwasher each night. Her advice was falling on deaf ears as we knew nothing about hand washing dishes!

My grandmother died the summer I turned 10. Maybe that is why my memories are so foggy. It has been a long time! I do remember sitting in her apartment and going around in a circle picking things of hers to keep. I also remember my mom showing me the china that she had left me. My cousin Debbie was the oldest and my grandma gave this as the reason for letting her choose a set of china first. (she had 2 full sets so that she could maintain a kosher kitchen). I don't know what the set that Debbie chose looks like. I only know that the set that was left is beautiful and timeless. It is trimmed in gold and covered in bright flowers. I LOVE it! Each time it is used I think of her. Until recently, I haven't ever used it in my own home. Bubbie and I used it for Passover at her house, but never in my own home. That all changed over Thanksgiving this year. I sat on the floor and opened the cracked and faded china bags and lovingly found all the pieces I needed for our meal. I combined my grandma's china with the pattern that My Favoritest and I registered for when we got married. I think I did a pretty good job of complimenting the old with the new.

 

I know you think I have just ramble on and on, but I really do have a point that joins these two stories. Ever since my grandma's death, when I find myself flipping a dish over to wash the food off the bottom, I take it as a sign that my grandma is watching over me. I usually will even look up and give her a little nod. My cousin Jodi has seen a medium and had contact with our grandma, but this little reminder will have to do for me! After Thanksgiving dinner, I stacked all the china by the sink so I could hand wash it.

 

And as I flipped the first plate over to wash it, you know what I found! Food on the bottom.

 

And I knew she was watching over us and I hope she is proud of the woman, wife, and mother I have become. (And I hope she missed the bacon in the marinated green beans in one of her kosher serving pieces)

 

 

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