Post #91 – Women’s Memoir Writing, ScrapMoir – Matilda Butler and Kendra Bonnett
Women’s Memoirs is pleased to present the first in a two-way tie for First Place in our May memoir contest -ALL ABOUT MOTHERS. Sara Etgen-Baker’s story, published below, takes a tie for first place in our Mother’s Day category. Mother’s Day can be a great day, a terrible day, or somewhere in between. We have a full range of such stories that we’re publishing. Later today, we’ll not only publish the second winner in the Mother’s Day category but also the two winning entries in the Mothers and Mothering category. Be sure to check back all day as we continue to publish these four award-winning memoir stories.
PINK PEARLS OF WISDOM
by Sara Etgen-Baker
The luxurious, time-worn building located at Sixteen Eighteen Main Street was like a majestic Paramount Movies studio set. I lingered at the front doors with my grandmother and imagined that perhaps Gina Lollabrigida, Ann Margaret, or even Rock Hudson would emerge from the set onto the street where we stood.
As I stood in front of it for the first time, the Neiman Marcus building hypnotized me with its aristocratic and elegant Renaissance revival architecture. My grandmother and I entered the building and walked through the picturesque lobby; like a tourist I gasped for breath as I gawked at the exquisite crystal chandeliers above me. I closed my eyes and imagined Grace Kelly wearing a glamorous floor-length gown, mink stole, and elbow-length gloves as she slowly descended the signature double staircase.
On our way toward the elevator, my grandmother and I paused at the perfume counter where we sampled popular fragrances of the time including Shalimar, Evening in Paris, and Chanel No. 5. Afterwards, we headed to my grandmother’s favorite department—the jewelry counter. She examined several items but insisted on trying on a 12-inch string of delicate pink pearls. The sales clerk carefully hung the pearls around my grandmother’s slender, statuesque neck; handed her a mirror; and said, “Mrs. Houchin, those pearls are as cultivated and classy as you are; they simply define you!”
My grandmother held up the mirror and carefully examined the pearls and said, “You’re right! They do.”
Then she unexpectedly blushed with embarrassment and added, “Oh my! I just realized that I left the house today without putting on my jewelry…so I guess I need to buy them.”
She quickly turned to me and emphatically said, “Remember child…a lady never leaves the house without putting on her jewelry!”
Ganny, fondly remembered
She was my Ganny—not Granny—because she had a distinct aversion to anything indicative of old age. In fact, she was ageless, petite, and meticulously dressed with skin as delicate as Chantilly lace; hands as graceful as a ballerina’s; personality as effervescent as fine champagne; and laugh as melodious as an angel’s harp. She spoke quietly and enthusiastically; loved with a warm, contented heart; carried herself like a lady from a royal court; and dressed as elegantly as Audrey Hepburn.
After Ganny purchased the necklace, we took the elevator to the sixth floor to the Zodiac Room where we met Great Aunts Mamie and Maudie. As we entered the restaurant, the maître d’ greeted Ganny and said, “Hi Myrtle! Your usual table? How is the most refined lady in the restaurant?” Ganny blushed again slightly as we were whisked to our table past chastising glances and locust-like chatter. After our main course, we ate dessert, sipped hot tea, and visited while models walked by the tables presenting the latest fashion trends.
Soon, Ganny turned to me and said, “You’re almost 13 and becoming a young woman. It’s important you always dress and act like a lady. You see that woman over there who’s wearing a sleeveless dress? Her arms are flabby, and they jiggle when she walks; remember…obese women and women over 50 should never wear sleeveless dresses.”
Even before I had a chance to process or acknowledge her advice, Ganny pointed out another woman standing adjacent to the windows. She commented, “She’s wearing pants and her stomach pooches out! Remember…a woman should never wear pants if her stomach pooches out!”
Ganny continued gently sipping her hot tea until she realized that Great Aunt Mamie was not wearing any makeup. With disgust in her voice she chimed, “Sister…I love you, but you’re a bad influence on my granddaughter—you’re not wearing any makeup today! You were raised better and know a woman should never leave her house without putting on her face.”
The conversations stopped like a frozen river in the winter until Great Aunt Maudie shared some rather dark news about their cousin: “Helen has terminal cancer and is in a great deal of pain.”
Ganny said, “I feel badly for Helen having to end her life with such discomfort.…..if I could just live to be 100! When my time comes, I want to pass in my sleep without suffering.”
I was painfully young and initially found Ganny’s frankness about her death disturbing. I could neither fathom her death nor my life without her influence. Now, though, at 60 I can more fully appreciate her desire to die in a painless and comfortable manner. I am so grateful that when death did arrive, it softly and painlessly kissed her to sleep just as she had wished—on Mother’s Day—just a few days shy of her 100th birthday.
Ganny's pink pearls
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