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Beckham Family Photo!

Remembering My Grandmother, 25 Years Later

Twenty five years ago last night, my grandmother, Margaret Beckham, died.

She was always telling me to brush my hair.

This drove me nuts. I had curly hair and it was the 80s and we didn’t brush our hair – we teased it to high heaven.

I rolled my eyes at her a LOT.

But I loved her.

I loved eating deviled ham sandwiches on tv trays and drinking Shirley Temples and watching Lawrence Welk at her house.

I loved her “Grandma Hamburgers” made with Lipton Onion Soup.

I loved that she set her table for breakfast the night before.

I loved that she let me wear her fancy white kid gloves and spectator pumps and silk shawls just for dress up and go through all her jewelry and crystal-encased perfumes and makeup.

I loved how she tried to teach me to knit year after year even though I was a lost cause.

Same for gardening and ironing and balancing a checkbook and cleaning and organizing.

Yet, she did teach me how to polish silver. That “if you buy cheap, you buy twice”. To take it “wee steps and slow” when things feel a little overwhelming. How to make shortbread and tea.

I think of her every day.

Especially when I brush my hair.

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