I loved my grandmother very much. She was a very godly woman who had a lot of tragedy in her life, but despite that prayed constantly and had an unfailing belief and faith in God that allowed her to endure the tragedies. Her daughter died from a disease that took her at a very young age. Her one son was hit by a drunk driver and was an invalid for half of his life. Her other son (my dad) died from prostate cancer. My grandparents were not wealthy by the world’s standards. They lived in a very small pink house in the suburbs of Bristol, Tennessee. The house was 2 bedrooms, 1 bath, a kitchen, living room, and front and back porch. The house was jam- packed with stuff. What kind of stuff? Crafts, pictures, and knick-knacks! Everywhere you looked there was something, and craft supplies were stuffed into every nook and cranny. My grandfather was a truck driver, so he was gone during the week and came home on the weekends. My grandmother never drove, so I imagine she had to find things to occupy her time, which probably explained the crafting.
My grandmother passed away a few years ago. My grandfather passed away recently. Due to unusual circumstances, their estate was left to someone outside of the family. This person is a very nice woman and has been gracious to our family. She allowed us to enter my grandmother’s home and take a few precious personal possessions and photos.
When I entered the house, the dust everywhere saddened me. The house had been sitting empty for a long time and had really been left untouched. Memories started flooding back of times spent there when I was a child. My grandparents loved coffee and guzzled it like water. They went to bed very late and I always suspected it was because they drank so much coffee! My grandfather loved the braves and would watch them all the time and because my grandmother didn’t drive, she didn’t go to church but watched television evangelists on the Christian networks all the time. But the thing I remember the most about my grandmother was how much she loved crafting. She painted and sewed, made birdhouses, decorated boxes, did needlework, and arranged dried flowers. She always had a project going. She collected Avon decanters, and had every kind of knick-knack available. As I walked around the house I saw all the knick-knacks on shelves and in cupboards. I saw books and boxes of craft supplies under the beds and in drawers. I saw photos of her family in beautiful picture frames in her bedroom. I saw needlework pictures and paintings on the walls; and that’s when I paused and had to catch my breath. A very tiny painting was on the bedroom wall. I had never noticed it before and if I had, I would not have recognized it or thought anything of it. I just stared at it. “The Milkmaid” by Johannes Vermeer. My grandmother, who lived in a tiny little house in Tennessee, who loved to craft, who couldn’t drive, who had never really been anywhere in her life, had a Vermeer hanging on her wall. She knew about fine art. I couldn’t believe it, but it brought me to tears. I had a connection with my grandmother. I loved to craft, and as it turns out, I like art. I finally finished my college degree recently and one of my favorite classes was called, “Arts and Ideas”. I had the privilege of studying all the famous works of arts and the lives of the artists. That’s how I recognized the Vermeer. I knew where my love for crafts and art came from. I was a kindred spirit with my grandmother.
As it turns out, I discovered more fine art in my grandmother’s house that day. In her living room she had a painting entitled, “A Young Girl Reading” by Jean Honore Fragonard. Hidden behind a sofa on the very bottom shelf under a pile of dust and other things, I discovered 4 old books. The first one: “100 of the World’s Most Beautiful Paintings”. The second one: “50 of the World’s Most Beautiful Paintings”. The third one: “French Impressionist Masterpieces”. The fourth one: “Currier and Ives America”. They were the world’s finest art in book form. I felt like I had discovered not only a valuable treasure, but also a part of who I was that day.
The Vermeer, “A Young Girl Reading”, and all of the books live with me now. I can look at the world’s finest art whenever I want. I will pass these treasures on to my children. However, the best treasure of all is that I have a rich heritage. I had a grandmother who appeared to be ordinary but in reality was extraordinary.
