Just the other day I was out, and I came upon a beautiful old sugar bowl.
You know the kind, with pink roses and a lid that fits just perfect. The kind that reminds you of your Grandma.
It just about yells out loud, “Grandma!” to me! One of those.
One that Grandma would have just loved.
My Dad loved these old sugar bowls for some reason and most likely it was because they reminded him of Grandma, too.
He brought one to Aunt Hilda from time to time, just a gift, an offering of love. Most likely to all his sisters. They were old, not always completely without nicks and mostly they would not match anything else, of course. But they had one thing in common, inside, tucked just out of sight was a handful of love.
A sprinkle of 'brother sugar'. Dad’s own kind of ‘Sugar‘. Hilda mentioned to me how much she missed the sugar bowls just the other day and it got me to thinking.
I cannot see a sugar bowl and not smile. It is just physically impossible for me. That smile comes, taking me back to another time and place and I find myself on my knees up in the chair at the table with Grandma. Grandma right by my side, the lace tablecloth softly skimming over the tops of my knees like a gentle breeze and the kitchen smelling like Grandma’s house. That smell of material and lace, mixed with simmering chicken dumplings, with a cinnamon bun baking in a warm oven, takes me there in my heart in an instant. That sugar bowl, always full, sitting on the table. The smell of faint roses and lavender softly coming from Grandma’ hair. Close your eyes and smell it, too.
Grandma liked a little coffee with her sugar and cream. So do I. Big smile.
I remember being up on my knees in that chair and rolling out “whomper” biscuits to make apple turnover pies. They are called that because you 'whomp' them on the edge of the counter to open them up. I can remember stretching my way too short arm across the table, trying to reach the sugar bowl to sprinkle some of Grandma's sugar on top of my pie. Delicious apple pies and sticky sugared fingers.
Life was grand in Grandma's kitchen.
Delicious memories, precious to me.
One thing I will be eternally grateful for, is that Grandma taught me how to love deeply and how keep your sugar bowl full.
She taught us all that love should be unconditional, without judgment. She loved us even sometimes when we didn’t appear to deserve it. Grandma knew how to feel your heart, to meet you where you are and give you the love that you needed. The word compassion comes up time and time again when thinking about my Grandma. Her heart was pure compassion.
Grandma could feel our wounds no matter how big or how small and she was just about bound and determined to heal them any way she could, even when it didn’t always appear to be practical or logical. Sometimes Noxema did the trick just fine, and sometimes not. Noxema was a salve for you soul as well as your boo-boo's, sometimes. And if she found a wound she couldn’t heal completely, she made sure to stick by you and love you through it.
Love, kindness and compassion, were all something that came naturally to Maudie Hull Arrowood.
My Dad knew that sugar bowl well, and so did Hilda. All the kids and grandkids knew Grandma’s sweet sugar bowl well. She kept her heart, her ‘sugar bowl’ full all the time.
Not just for family, but for everyone. God Bless her.
Dad’s love for those odd sugar bowls imprinted in my mind and my heart, so now I scan the shelves of old jot-em-down stores and fleas for sugar bowls, too. You just never know what treasure awaits you just around the corner in this life. My Dad had that same giving heart that my dear Grandma had.
The apples never fall far too from the tree, do they? Or is it the nuts? Oh well, whatever we are, we are who we are. Grin.
I sure miss my ‘sugar bowl of love’ that I got from my Dad, but I know that somewhere, up in heaven, all of our loved ones that have gone on, are sitting around that sugar bowl and having coffee and some sweet Grandma apple pies. Laughing and telling stories and loving each and every one of us, still. Can’t you just imagine how wonderful that must be? Aunt Ollie and Aunt Buna are sitting there as well, smiling those beautiful smiles they had.
All of Grandma’s kids keep their sugar bowls full, and recently I have received a good dose of love from both Ann and Hilda. They know what I am talking about here, God Bless them both.
As we go about living today, with holes in all of our hearts because we miss all the loved ones that are no longer with us, let us all try to fill those holes with the kind of love that they showed us while here. Let that be our tribute to the love we have all received. Let us be the full sugar bowls and give our sugar to hearts that need it. Let’s pay it forward.
I can’t wait to get up to heaven and sit down at that table, and say, “Pass me that sugar bowl!“
Until then, hold tight to all your sugar bowls. Let them know how much you appreciate them.
*****
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