Cora Fisher, to me she was Grandma Fisher. 

More specifically: Cora + Harold = Betty
                                  Betty + Ernie = Jan
                                  Jan + Jim = Jessica

Part 1: 

Our youngest daughter, Emily just recently moved out. This left me the last kids’ room to clean, repaint and redecorate. I had tackled the majority of this task the previous fall. In the four days she was at college I had toned down the teal colored walls and lavender bathroom. I steam cleaned the tile floor and magic erased the shower surround. I even had all of the furniture taken out of the room and the carpet freshly laundered. Then she called to tell me she didn’t see a reason to stay when all of her classes would be online. The only thing I hadn’t gotten to was the new bedding I’d purchased so I stored away the packaged up duvet cover and Emily returned home.

Back to this fall, 2021. I can admit, it took a little out of me when she moved out (on my birthday) and I ignored the job I knew needed to be done. A few days passed and I’d just a soon get the job done as to put it off longer. The room was all but bare with my old dresser, a queen size bed and an empty nightstand. Thankfully Emily had done a good job cleaning before she left and I didn’t have to scrub too hard. In no time I was stripping the bed and washing the mattress protector and a new set of sheets. I located the packaged up duvet cover while I was downstairs. When I went to get a couple pillows I ran across something I forgot I had. High on the shelf in Ryan’s closet was a giant JC Penney’s bag. They don’t make plastic bags like this anymore. It was heavy duty and as big as a kitchen trash bag, pretty much indestructible. Since it’s been a year of house projects and finding old treasures I took the bag down and set it on the bed. I knew what was inside. My Grandma (Betty) had given it to me years ago, it was her mothers. I peaked inside the bag and was delighted to see he was still in perfect condition and appeared happy to be free of the closet. I scooped up what I came downstairs for and grabbed the bag with my free hand.

Part 2

I have four siblings, an older sister and three younger brothers. It was rare for me to go anywhere without at least one of them but I do remember going to my grandparents house a few times alone. Cora Fisher was my maternal great grandmother. She lived across town in a small ranch style home with a back yard full of trees. Grandma Fisher was kind. I always knew her to have white hair, she wore glasses and was constantly busy. She kept a tidy home that was overflowing with things. There was always fresh squeezed orange juice in a glass pitcher in the refrigerator. She always set a table full of food no matter what meal was being served. She had a garden, a houseful of plants and a variety of collections. Her husband was a hobby wood furniture maker. He made shelves to house her collections. She had plates lining the walls in the dining area and curio cabinets full of cookie jars. There was a four tiered shelf in the living room for her Hummel collection that hung above the television set. On a corner shelf by the sofa were these little glass ducks. The shelf above the couch was a beautiful dark stained piece that held a wooden train on the bottom shelf and a collection of wood elephants that all faced the same way on the top one. I remember dusting that shelf and asking if I could rearrange it. Grandma explained to me that the elephants all needed to face the door. Some old wives tale about if they faced the door and the house caught fire those inside would escape safely. 

Grandma was tall and proper. She was firm but loving. You see, there are parts of my childhood that were happy even if only for a fleeting moment. I remember trick or treating and stopping by my grandparents house. She offered us candy of course and just for her grandchildren she’d made popcorn balls that were wrapped in cellophane. I remember another time I spent the day at their house. It was late in the fall and that morning I helped raked the leaves in the back yard. I was dusty and dirty when I came inside for lunch.  While Grandma set the table I went to the bathroom to clean up. She asked if I’d bring a  new box of tissues from the closet with me when I came back. I remember opening the linen closet in the bathroom, it full of extra household supplies. Stacks of soaps, bottles of shampoo, cleaners, toilet paper, kleenex and other miscellaneous items. I remember thinking they must be rich to have extra. We often ran out things at our house and we’d have to wait for the next month to start to replenish. 

I brought the box out to the dining room where Grandma was filling our glasses with sweet tea. I unwrapped the top and pulled on the first tissue, then replaced the empty one. By then Grandpa had come in and removed his shoes. He was washing up in the kitchen sink as Grandma and I sat down. The small round dining table was filled with proper dinnerware and a lot of food just for lunch. Grandma had already filled our bowls with her homemade chili. Grandpa sat down. I watched Grandma take her napkin from under her silverware and place it on her lap. She sat up straight as an arrow and when she caught me looking at her she smiled. I clumsily tugged at my napkin causing my silverware to click and clatter together. I felt my cheeks redden and warm. I looked down and placed my napkin on my lap and tried to sit taller. When I looked up Grandma was watching me. She smiled again and offered me some cheese and crackers, passing me the platter she had made up. We sat there eating and talking about what we had left to do outside. Grandpa said he wanted to burn the leaves and Grandma mentioned watering her mums. I was famished from all the work we’d already accomplished and gobbled up every last drop of soup. It was good, the sweet pickles were crisp, the cantaloupe firm and I knew Grandma was serving her molasses cookies for dessert. But my favorite was the cheese and saltines as I crunched the little sandwich I’d made with the last slice of cheese. Grandma laughed saying I must really like cheese and crackers. She even got up and sliced me a few more pieces. To this day I always think of her when enjoying that particular treat. 

Grandma Fisher died in January, 1986. I was eleven. I remember the night clearly. My mother coming upstairs and waking us, telling us the sad news. 

I wonder how differently things would have been for me had she not died…

Now that I am older I am more curious about my Grandma, so I did a little digging. She was born Cora Foreman in North Dakota. She was one of five with three sisters and a brother. She grew up in Wellman, Iowa and graduated from Wellman High School. She played on a woman’s basketball team in 1923 and was named to the All-State Tournament Team for two consecutive years, 1925-26. She married my grandfather in 1927.  She was a one room school house teacher just outside of  Keota at the Prairie Flower school. In fact I remember being told the clock in the dining room was from that school.  From 1957-1977 she lived in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. She was a salesperson/manager at F.W. Woolworth. In 1977 she and my grandfather moved to Washington, Iowa. They had a cabin in Minnesota and she liked to fish. She also loved cats and one in particular I remember was named Tommy Jo.

What I also remember was that she was a good cook and a baker but her written recipes would do no one any good. She left out certain ingredients or measurements and of course her secrets as to how to cook/bake it. I smirk, maybe that’s where I get that from. My own recipe box doesn’t tell the whole story.

Part 3

I’m all but finished in my daughters’ room. The carpet is dry and the dresser has been brought back in. The bathroom is clean, vanity stocked and new shower liner hung. The mattress has been turned and its protector is firmly in place with sheet straps. The new, freshly washed sheets are on and somehow I managed to wrangle the goose-down comforter inside the duvet cover and tie each corner. It looks nice. 

One last detail remains. 

My Grandma Fisher had another collection. One that took up every square inch of the sofa in the living room. Even the top of the back against the wall. I wish I knew more about this collection. Why would be my first question. 

The JC Penney bag is sitting on the banister in the hall. It’s time. 

I walk out of the refreshed room that we call the girls’ room as both of my daughters once shared this room. I pick up the bag and carry it back. Carefully I place it on the bed and pull out its occupant. He’s big and furry with a full belly, black eyes and a black nose. I hold him close and take in his scent hoping for a hint of the smell of my grandma’s house, but alas he’s been kept in the plastic bag too long. With the shams propped up against pillows in front of the headboard I gently set him down in the center. His head rests lazily on his tummy and he fits perfectly. 

Almost instantly I’m taken back in time to when I was a young girl standing in front of my grandmothers couch awestruck. The sofa is covered in teddy bears. Not little, inexpensive ones. Big, soft, furry ones in a variety of colors. Teddy bears with ribbons and neck ties some even wearing miniature clothing. I smile remembering.

I step away from the bed and look around the room. It needs more decor, maybe even a chair and when Dave has time, a new nightstand. My eyes find Mr. Bear and I smile remembering the Grandma I wanted to be like. The one with collections, proper manners, full meals prepared for her family and a linen closet stocked with extras. 

Many things changed the year that she passed. Dark memories start to filter in and tears fills my eyes. I refocus. I have a story to write and to share with my children. I’ve heard it said that when one dies they never really leave us as long as we keep the memory of them alive. My children need to know Grandma Fisher.

I look one last time at Mr. Bear who has a pride of place in Cora Fisher’s great-great-granddaughters room and I smile remembering the woman who I hope would be proud of me.