January 9, 2023 … Monday pm (a big melt today/less snow – hurrah!)
Happy New Year! If you’re in anything like my mindset, the holidays seem like eons ago … and that the eve of this new year wasn’t a mere week in the rear view mirror.
And so we start … 2023.
There are so many things I’ve had on my mind to write about since we hailed in the new year … but the one thing that has been laying heavily these past few days has been the memory of my paternal grandmother. I always find it a bit mysterious (and a bit eerie) when someone from my past makes me feel such a presence … a memory urgency. Why now? Are they around? Trying to send me a message or just say, “Hi!”????? I don’t know. One of those things.
But, regardless, there I was the other day … minding my own business and turning over my 2022 files to hold what will come this year and she popped into my thoughts. And not only did she pop into them – but along with the memories was this tsunami of bittersweetness … one of utter happiness along with absolute sadness that she was no longer. Was I feeling nostalgic while sorting through receipts? Did some bit of paperwork catch my eye that sparked the neurotransmitter which then sparked the memory of the woman I have not had in my life for nearly 40 years?
What can I say? I don’t know what sparked this all but I do know this … she was a gem … and I miss her.
Irene Churan Leske was my dad’s mom. She was born on a temperate day (you can find anything on the internet) in August, 1903 … in Chicago … the city she never moved from. She was of Bohemian heritage (where I get my big, fat knees from!) … one of five kids (4 girls … (Molly, Lottie, Blanche, Irene) and Uncle Eddie). I don’t think they had much money but they were a tight-knit bunch. By the time I came along and had any decent memory, the three oldest sisters had passed from breast cancer. Grandma would be afflicted with that cancer, as well, but somehow her treatments worked – where her sister’s and niece’s hadn’t – and lived a full life until it came back and claimed her when she was 80 – a week after she became a great-grandmother (of twins). We all know she waited for those babies to arrive!
If I could use one word to describe her it would be … classy. But, that is just one dimension of her complex and lovely being. She was very fashionable. She was always “dressed to the 9s” – no matter what she was doing. I have a photo (circa 1931) of her (and my dad as a toddler) in a long wool (or so it looks) winter coat with a huge fur collar (and cuffs) … a beautiful jaunty hat with a veil over her eyes does nothing but enhance her high cheek bones, petite nature and love of style. She was pure class.
She was an amazing saleswoman. She could sell ice cubes to polar bears and sand to camels. She had interior design skills beyond any schooling – it was just innate with her and she was always leading the “newest thing” by about a year. She (and my Grandfather) were incredible ice dancers … skating in a club for years in their Chicago area. She was so graceful; and they both were so fluid. It was lovely – even at a young age I knew that was something special to behold – watching them float over the ice so effortlessly.
She was an intrepid “L” rider – often telling anyone sitting in the first seat of the first car that it was her grandchild’s first train ride and would they please give up their seat so I could sit there and experience the train as a conductor would. EVERY TIME we rode – she’d ask! I probably sat in that seat 50x – always as a “first timer”. LOL. We went all over the city together – but usually to Marshall Field’s department store (when department stores were department stores!) … with 8 floors of goods, a restaurant where we’d lunch, and a Tiffany ceiling. The store was magnificent and our outings were always so special. And, if I didn’t come home with a souvenir from the store – a punch out balsa wood monkey that hung on my milk glass at lunch or a knock-off Barbie outfit – I’d still be filled with memories to last a lifetime.
She was the one who cooked for days and days (and days) for 20 of us at Thanksgiving. She was well known for her 13 vegetables gracing the table (and the most perfectly cubed turnips!). She set a pretty table with varied and tasty foods and I have to think that she must have slept for 3 days after the holiday! But before she rested and before we all went home … after about 2 hours after the dinner was done and the kids were playing in their cavernous (fabulous) basement and the women were drying the last dish (no dishwasher there!) … she’d lay out another gargantuan feast of sandwich goods, leftovers, and desserts. She was something!
But the thing I think I miss most about her was her twinkly sparkle. She was one of those people who was just lit from the inside. She was a tremendous story teller – always using her hands and sound effects – very animated – and anyone listening was purely enraptured. But besides being spellbound – everyone would be hysterical because she’d have everyone laughing until they were crying and she’d abandon her story for a bit until everyone could all regain their composure and then she’d start in again. She was truly wonderful. Her eyes sparkled … and she knew how to make anyone (and everyone) feel like they were the most important person not just in the room – but on the planet. To me, she was the female version of the wizard from The Wizard of Oz.
Whenever we got together she’d say that, “We had Dutch – didn’t we?” … and that meant the very best of times.
And, honestly, yes – we did.
When I was little I’d stay overnight on Sundays … after a family meal at Gma and Gpa’s. She’d fill their huge, cast iron, deep soaker tub with bubbles and plop me in for a good soak while she finished the dishes. After I was dry and tucked into cozy pajamas, she’d pop popcorn and we’d settle on the floor of the living room to watch The Dinah Shore Show on TV … but not ANY TV … it was a portable – on a wheeled stand – and (omg) … COLOR! We’d eat buttered (so much butter!) popcorn and since I was all about glitz and glamour (I started early) … we’d ooh and ahh over Dinah’s ball gowns (the peach sparkly one was a show-stopper with encrusted crystals on the bodice and a billion yards of flowing chiffon as the skirt). A million years later and I remember that dress! Yes, we had Dutch!
So, why that day was her presence so strong? I don’t know. But, yeah, I miss her … and the ones who went after her. She was sick but attended our wedding; from that day I have one rare photo of her talking with someone in the receiving line … and that’s it. Too bad. But, I remember her whispering to me as she kissed me congratulations, that Tim was charming and a “keeper”. Yeah – he was … and then some. I hope they are having Dutch!
In any case … a shout out to my Grandmother who I remember with much love and fondness. Later this summer I’ll do something fun in her honor on the 120th anniversary of her birth. This is my year to remember, in depth, those that were so important to me.
And so we start … 2023. This new year that holds so much possibility, mystery, and just a few million memories worth sharing.