Grandma Greta

"She used to be so pretty," they said with sadness in their eyes.  I thought she was beautiful, and not "for seventy."  She was pretty because she had been through so much and would still smile, with her eyes sparkling and dancing. She would walk with the elderly back bend. Her hair was long but wiry, mane of curls.  She knew every crude joke, and not in a "Oh, grandma, you're so nasty" way. But in a Navy Seaman will blush deep purple kind of way.

Her name is Greta and she's originally from Germany. She met grandpa Alex while serving dinners at the Supper Club.  For months, he would come in for dinner and chat her up.  After two months he started to walk her home.  Tenderly he held her hands.  With every step he took he thought "marry me, marry me, marry me."

Finally, he asked her.  She brushed her hair behind her ear. "Yes, Alex!" She twirled around with joy.  The had three kids, two boys and one girl.  Eventually they had six grandchildren.  Four boys, a girl and me.

They have a lovely Victorian home.  The three bedrooms were pale yellow with white quilts and curtains.  The only proof that kids ever lived there was the hardwood floors had scratches from cars and trucks racing across the floors.  Grandpa Alex always offered to have them sanded clean, but Greta wanted the memories.

The rest of the house was pink and full of doilies with pink and pale blue flowers.  Grandpa Alex knew his place was the garage, most men at his age have their space in the garage.  He'd sneak cigars and beers in his hideaway.  Grandma would smell the smoke and beer and pretended she didn't smell it.  He pretended that he didn't know when she bought yarn.  Their relationship was give and take and nary was an angry word was said.  They loved each other like the stars loved the dark night sky.

The best room, of course, was the kitchen.  Some of the best scents in the world came from her kitchen.  Her kitchen was the biggest room in the house.  It was painted a pretty light green.  She had a wood stove and a Chambers stove.  Two microwaves and a triple sink.  The big table that used to sit six now houses two.  On the left of the oak table my mother, Sally carved her name in it with a pen, writing over and over her name until is stuck on the table.  Back then Momma got the switch but now grandma treats it as a work of art hanging in the Louvre. As a child, I loved tracing her name with my finger.  Sally was the first word I ever wrote.

Greta was a young girl when WWII started.  For a short time, a family hid them in the basement but the SS were closing in and checking homes.  My grandmother's father arranged a buggy to the woods.  They hid in the woods for about a month.  They didn't realize that the Great War would last for years.  At night, the children would sneak to nearby farms and steal small amounts of food.  There was a stream that they would wash in.  Although they were never clean enough, warm enough or had a full stomach.

They saw an old cart and buggy and begged for a ride.  The thick man seemed scared.  He hated and feared Nazis had eyes everywhere.  

"Can't let the younguns roam the countryside in these times," he said.  Grandma Gretta was so happy she hugged the old man, but he pushed her off.  "I'm helpin' you because you're people  I ain't touchin' ya because your dirty Jews," He said with a hateful sneer on his lips.  He slowly drove them to the train station where they found a young, burly man.  He went to my great grandfather and said, "I know what you need and I'll help you get it.  He took my great grandfather deep in the woods.  There was a rickety old desk with stamps and papers in it.

"How many in your group?"  My grandfather answered, "Four. my wife, two daughters and myself."

The man made false documents.  "I have no way to pay you," my great-grandfather said. The man looked him in the eyes and simply said, Survive. The man walked my great-grandfather back to the railroad station and kissed each member of the family on the cheek.

They got on the train and rode in fear until it took them to a town nearby the ocean. The children begged for money, sometimes with their parents.  It took weeks to get the money for a boat trip to America.  As they boarded the boat, my great-grandfather was sobbing.  He knew they'd never come back.

It took three months to cross to America.  Three months of rolling, vomit inducing storms.  Finally, they got to see the Statue of Liberty.  They were in awe and shed tears of joy.  "We're finally safe!"

They ended up in New Jersey in a quaint little town.  Great-grandfather worked anywhere he could.  My great-grandmother did various jobs in town, washing laundry, cooking meals and cleaning houses.  That's when they bought the house.  The next ten or so years were hard times.  They had food, a nice house and lots of love.

That's where grandma lives with my grandfather.  They live and love as they have for years.  Grandma Greta has Alzheimer's now.  A kindhearted young nurse comes every day.  My grandmother is still able to bake with supervision.  Grandpa Alex is very strong and in excellent health. Sometimes he finds Grandma sitting in the boy's old room tracing the car marks.  He just sits down with her until she gets tired.  Then he carries her to her big, fluffy bed.