Grandma Burky's birthday. Two pictures received from Beacon for the occasion - one of an old Grandma in front of a birthday cake and one dated 1942 of a young Grandma next to Poppy, holding a shovel.  1942 - Already one son Joe off to war and in the next year, when I was not even one, her other son Eddy at eighteen years to go to war.  I lived upstairs over Grandma, with Bucky, Daddy and Barbara and Bucky's letters to her brother during my first year of life make that time very real to me.  For my first birthday I got a pair of socks and a dollar from Grandma.  But I got a lot more than that.

My first memory is of laying in my carriage, in Grandma's downstairs, and she was reading her prayer book and would pass me pictures of Saints, probably Mass cards.  My first sentence was to Grandma - "Gaga (her) Nana (me) brrrr (cold).  I remember her dancing around the dining room table with an embarrassed Charles Miller at my sister's birthday.  I remember her ironing clothes with an ironing board leaning against that same table.  She taught me how to iron a man's shirt, back first, then both sides of the front and then the sleeves, which she would fold over the front of the shirt, making a flat invisible man.  I remember her home made chili sauce that would send a smell of tomatoes, cinnamon and spices all around the house.  I watched her can, and was amazed when she pulled out a canning jar from boiling water with her bare hands.  She could make a meal out of anything, would come up to 17 Falconer and clean out the refrigerator leftovers for her own meals.  And I remember going to Mass on Good Friday with her, as the wind whipped and she knowingly said "it is 3 0 clock, and Jesus just died". 

I think of Grandma a lot.  I too, have a prayer book next to the bed, stuffed with Mass cards of my family, friends, even people I barely knew.  I look at the picture, turn it over and read the name and the prayer and think a little of the person, their life and their death.  I think of Grandma when I go to church....she would look at my fingernails and if they were dirty, would shake her head in disappointment.  I think of Grandma when I make stuffed cabbage or pick tomatoes out of the garden.  I think of that 14 year old girl, all alone in a steerage boat, coming to America.  I think of Grandma in 1918 with the inflenza that killed millions of people, sick with Bucky in the crib next to her.  She lived over a saloon and sent Poppy down for whiskey, which she said saved her life.  (My fundador might do the same thing).  I think of Grandma when I see those hard Christmas candies, she always had some in a bowl in the dining room.  And I think of Grandma when she used to call to Bucky, "Lillush" time to go shopping.  Wonderful memories of a fantastic wonderful Grandma. 
Happy Birthday Grandma.