My Grandmom Bessie
My Grandmom Bessie: My Grandmom was big – big of voice, big of body
but most of all big of heart. I was her first granddaughter and I think
her favorite person in the world. My parents lived with her when I was
born and that cemented our bond. I have many photos of the beautiful
knitted outfits she made just for me and of her proudly holding me – her
shana maydela.
As I grew older my cousins, brother and I
couldn't wait to sleep over at Grandmom and Grandpop's rowhouse on a
shady street in Logan. I loved waking up early, smelling the coffee and
listening to the sounds of Yiddish and Russian being spoken in the
kitchen below our “back bedroom”. Right after breakfast we were sent to
buy the day's food. Even though we were only 6 or 7 we were trusted with
this important duty. We would go out the back stairs and head to the
kosher butcher – Hi – we're Mrs. Feldman's grandkids and here's her
list. No need to have money, it went on the account. Next the grocery –
same deal. The neighborhood store owners knew Bessie well, and I think
were afraid of her. They wouldn't dare to sell us inferior goods. We
felt so grown up.
We never had these responsibilities in our
suburban homes where everything was a car ride away and nobody even knew
who our parents were, let alone trusting to “an account”. I loved
cooking and baking with my Grandmom. I don't know how she prepared
dinners for 20 or more in the “little kitchen” - a tiny room behind the
eat-in kitchen with zero counter space. To make her famous strudel she
would let me help her spread the ultra thin phyllo dough across the
entir e dining room table and fill it with fruits and nuts. Mmmmmmm. I
was so proud to have had a hand in that.
To earn extra money
Grandmom would tell fortunes by reading coffee grounds. This was when
her personality would shine through. The entire neighborhood was her
customer base. There was the famous story of her “seeing” the imminent
death of one of her patrons. She refused to read his grounds and after
he left she was shaken and told her friends what she saw. Unfortunately,
she had seen the future correctly this time and he was hit by a car not
far from her house.
My cousins, brother and I continued to sleep
over until Grandmom Bessie passed away when I was 16. The house was
sold, including those 4 poster beds I later wished I had. I have often
driven by that house and my memories are so vivid I can still smell the
coffee.