I Remember Aunt Grace

I remember Aunt Grace as perfect and expecting everyone else to be so too.

I remember Aunt Grace as always knowing the proper order to iron a blouse. She would always tell me what the proper order was. I forget what that order was, because I thought that if I ever needed to know I could ask Aunt Grace.

When I was a little girl, Aunt Grace used to sleep with me in the old farmhouse when she came to visit. She complained that I kicked. When it rained, she wore those galoshes things over her high heeled shoes. Her shoes and pocketbook always matched. She consistently left her garment bag with her hangup clothes at our house when she went home.

After Christmas there was one thank you note that my Mom made me write, and that was to Aunt Grace. I did whatever I could to get out of writing the note and sometimes I succeeded. My Mother fills that role for my children.

Aunt Grace always smelled funny, like powder and perfume. Maybe it was all that Jean Nate after bath stuff that everybody seemed to give everybody else at Christmas. I never used mine.

I remember visiting Aunt Grace and Uncle Charlie in Richmond when I was a little girl. Uncle Charlie used to snore, and it was a privilege to be allowed to wake him up in the mornings. He snorted and made all sorts of weird noises that were entertaining to me. They had a hose spray attached to the tub faucet. I stood up to use it like a shower, and got water all over the floor. Aunt Grace cleaned it up and did not complain.

You could always depend Aunt Grace to talk about the necessary food groups. "No need to have an open face sandwich at lunch time, "she used to say, "because a regular sandwich only uses two bread exchanges and you get..." I forget how many bread exchanges you got to have, but Aunt Grace always knew, and she would tell you. Even if you did not want to know.

She told me once that she was teaching a class to home demonstration club members on how to make their own underwear. I could not imagine why anyone would want to do that.

Soon after Bob and I were married we were living in Charlottesville, and Aunt Grace came to diner. The cheese sauce that was supposed to go over some vegetable was lumpy and looked awful. Aunt Grace was a gracious visitor. She had been working with Food Stamp families and brought with her brochures that she gave to those families. I still have them. She knew me well. She knew that I spent my spare time on the farm up at tree, in the woods, or fishing rather than helping Mom in the kitchen. Some of the brochures were titled, "Cheese, a Good Choice for the Thrifty Family," "Vegetables, a Good Choice for the Thrifty Family," and "Beans, a Good Choice for the Thrifty Family." There were recipes that had few ingredients and simple directions. Just my style. Aunt Grace thought it was cool that our family vehicle was a truck.

I understood from other family members that she made a mean daiquiri. She never made one for me. I think powdered sugar was her secret ingredient.

Several years ago I crocheted a lap robe for Aunt Grace. She sent me a thank-you note after she moved into Southminister. She was obviously happy there because of the comment she made about her new home, "The food is attractively presented."

I have a friend in Georgia who was a home demonstration agent in Virginia and knew Aunt Grace. Several years ago, I ahd a luncheon at my house. My friend gave me the ultimate compliment, "Aunt Grace would have approved."

Written on the death of Grace Rose Brothers,
by Mary Rose Campbell
November 1995