by Denise L Shaw Recently, on a spring cleaning adventure, I had opportunity to clean out my dresser drawers which are filled with as many memories as clothing items – maybe more. Tucked away in the backside of a rarely-used drawer was found a stack of handkerchiefs. I laundered and folded each one, and oh the memories that flooded my soul. My grandmother was born in 1911, 13 years before the invention of “Kleenex.” This means she was raised in a manner that taught young women the finer graces of ladies handkerchiefs. Even though, as an adult, she always had a box of giant Kleenex available in her home, her handbag was always populated with a supply of handkerchiefs. Store-bought Kleenex was considered a luxury on the farm. Very rarely did she use them. In this stack of now-paper-thin sheets of cotton are some of the most beautiful handworks of needlework and embroidery one could possibly imagine. Grandpa’s sister, Great-Aunt Bessie was a master at the old-fashioned art of tatting. And her handiwork graces many of the pieces in the pile. I addressed my grandmother by various titles in my lifetime. When I was very young, she was “Grandma” or “Grandma Kelley.” When I was a teen, we called her “Gram.” When she became a great-grandmother, my mother became “Grandma” and her name changed to “Granny.” But for me, there was only one Grandma. Her name was Lola. She was my father’s mother. My mother’s mother, died three months before my second birthday. I have no memory of her. So Grandma Kelley, Gram, Granny became very dear to me. Why do I share these things? Because if I don’t they will be lost. I want my grandchildren to know that women used to carry handkerchiefs. My Grandma Kelley used them regularly. She washed them in an old ringer-type washer (and before that, on a scrub-board by hand), hung them to dry and then would press them (iron them with an iron) – every last one of them – even my Grandpa’s big red work hankies. No one ever dreamed of a day when pocket packages of “Kleenex” would replace such an important part of every woman’s wardrobe. The type of event determined the type of handkerchief. If it was fancy and hardly ever used, it was probably reserved for use at a wedding, funeral or special church event. If there was no special embroidery on it, perhaps a simple print, it was for everyday use. The fancier the handkerchief, the fancier the woman carrying it or the event she was attending. They were as much a status symbol as they were practical. God forbid that anyone would ever really blow her nose on one. She always kept one in her purse for me, especially if we were going to church. Most of them were simple prints, because I would indeed blow my nose. For really special occasions, she would have one for me with purple violets embroidered upon it. It was too pretty to use. I adored her for making me feel so special as to have one just for me. I will add that on my wedding day in 1988, I carried a handkerchief tucked inside the left cuff of the sleeve of my bridal gown. It had belonged to Grandma Freeman (the one I never knew). And for those who were there, we’ll all remember: I used it!
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AuthorDenise Shaw says, "If I had known I was going to be doing so much writing, I would have taken more English in college. Archives
March 2024
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