Life has a way of shaking things up, most often when we’re not prepared for it. I knew I wanted to start a business, I just wasn’t sure what kind of business. One day I started thinking about what made me who I am. The things that made me strong, the things that broke me and the lessons I learned when I was very young. And a lot of it came back to my Grandmothers, Mildred and Mary.
Mildred
Grandma Mildred (Mid) was my paternal Grandmother. Standing barely 5′ tall she was feisty, always in a house dress and usually cooking. When she did go out she loved to dress up and always, always had a hand bag clutched as if at any moment it would be ripped from her grasp. Born the only girl with 4 brothers she grew up in dresses and bows and spent a lot of time with her Dutch grandmother learning to sew on the front porch during Indiana summers.
Mid was Southern Indiana. She was fresh tomatoes, fried pork tenderloin, lap blankets and love encased in an iron shell. I learned to use scissors and identify shapes by helping her cut up material for quilts. Just the two of us in the early morning hours making donuts, pouring over old photographs and hearing the stories that made her and eventually me who we are. She gave birth to 4 boys at home and most likely got up to make a meal for whoever was at the house to help her deliver those babies. My grandpa worked endless hours as a truck driver leaving Mid alone with the boys to raise. When she wasn’t keeping her sons in line, Mid was always creating something. She crocheted, sewed, quilted and cooked all with love. I was the youngest of her 7 grandchildren by 8 years and I relished in having her all to myself. The best advice she ever gave me? “Don’t s**t where you eat”.
Mary
My maternal grandmother was Mary. She grew up in a migrant family after her parents came to the United States from Austria and Hungary. Working alongside her brothers and sisters from an early age, she was no stranger to hard work in the sugar beet fields. In their early 20’s Mary and her older sister *Helen would become the first women in the state of Michigan to buy a house without a man. Quite a fete for the daughters of migrant workers in the thumb of Michigan (Michigan is literally in the shape of a mitten). Friends would gather at their house to celebrate and enjoy life as vibrant young women with an unknown future ahead of them. Mary would often be found playing guitar and yodeling (learned from her Austrian father and developed into a torture device to awaken her teenage grandchildren in later years) and along with her sister Lizzie and brother Willie traveled in a small country band that would play live on the radio while Helen excelled at softball. Growing up near a fishing village they were surrounded by water and Mary’s love of nature always found her exploring.
And then the war happened.
Mary and Helen were approached to be Dance hall girls to entertain the troops. Something that the sisters immediately scoffed at, they were independent women! Dance halls were for delicate flowers not softball hitting yodeling country singers! So Mary drove semis across country and ended up in Ogden, Utah where she would work in a factory assembling air planes. An outing with a friend led to a chance encounter with a group of soldiers and one in particular caught her eye and the rest is history.
Mary and Roy would remain married for over 50 years raising 3 daughters and yodel torturing 8 grandchildren. They would travel across county to Utah and visit the National Parks to revisit where they met. Grandma Mary taught me that you didn’t need to have a lot of money to have an adventure. My childhood with her was filled with long car rides, swear words, laughter and wading in mud puddles. Always an adventure and the best part was that Helen lived across the street as did their brother Johnny. The stories of my great grandmothers strudel would dominate the conversations and us kids slowly started picking up the broken German that was often spoken when the siblings gathered in the yard. Helen and Lizzie used to love to teach me inappropriate things to say to Mary and to this day I can throw down some pretty raunchy German insults.
Mildred and Mary
Growing up with two very different grandmothers gave me the best of two worlds. One filled with mud puddles, fields of deer, bowling alleys and family visits on the lawn. The other vats of bubbling grease, fried potatoes, train whistles and quilt squares. And both worlds filled with love, laughter and the most valuable lessons that made me who I am today.
So when people ask me what my business is and I tell them it’s a mix of Mary’s adventures and strength, Mildreds love of family and creating combined with a huge mix of me. It’s classes and workshops, dinners and blogs, and memories. Encouraging people to tell stories, carry on traditions, share family recipes and use a wooden spoon instead of a mixer. And it’s about honoring where we came from and making plans for where we are going.
* Helen is the inspiration behind Hella Strong, a line of workshops designed to empower women and teach them basic skills to become independent.
