The Significance of Handkerchiefs

Ten years ago, I turned ten. In celebration of this birthday, my grandmother, D’Mama, took me on a five-day cruise to the Bahamas. I had never been on a boat that wasn’t a rowboat or a boat on the lake pulling a tube or a kneeboard, so being on a huge ship with a lot of other people was a big change and an exciting adventure for me. D’Mama got seasick easily but I couldn’t tell the difference between having my feet on land and having them on our ship, the Jubilee. We had such a wonderful time together. She and I had always been special to each other, but having this time that was for the two of us and only the two of us was magnificent and a time of jubilee.

My favorite part of the cruise, however, was during the afternoons when D’Mama had to take a nap. She was very sick (although I didn’t really know it) and needed a lot of rest. She needed quiet while she slept and I could not be still, so I got to venture around the ship every afternoon. I ate so much soft-serve ice cream.

I had never seen Titanic, being a ten-year-old and all, but being on the deck of the Jubilee was very similar to the way being on the deck of the Titanic was portrayed. The wind whipped around everywhere so that there was not really a purpose to trying to hold down my hair. It was blown until it was unbrushable, and I loved that. I liked to stand on the side of the boat, just above the ocean, and I never tired of watching the ocean go by. It looked so peaceful and so consistent and I wanted to be floating in it with my face towards the sky.

My whole imagination was present and blooming all week. I pretended that I was the captain’s daughter and I was allowed anywhere I wanted. I felt so happy, just wandering around, being blown by the wind, running into people, going back to the main deck for more ice cream, taking the elevator down to places I was not supposed to be, watching the water move under the ship. I felt so happy and I just wanted to spin around with my arms spread out because I didn’t know how else to express the fullness of my heart.

After this cruise, D’Mama decided that it would be fun to establish a tradition of special trips for each grandchild when they turned ten. But then she died in October. As in, we got back from the cruise, the summer passed, then as I was settling into being a fifth grader, she died. She was much sicker on the cruise than I had noticed.

And so as the oldest, I was the only grandchild who got to embark on this ten-year birthday tradition with her. At her funeral, all of her friends told me how lucky I was that I got to spend that special time with her before she died. They told me how much she loved me, but I already knew, because I loved her just as much.

After she died, my parents and I went through her closet and I got to take home with me some of her jewelry and a lot of her scarves. I never wore them, but I liked knowing that I still had pieces of her with me because I was afraid of forgetting her. But slowly as I grew older and older, every time I cleaned out under my bed, I decided not to keep a few more of her things. I felt badly about it, but a person’s past possessions are not that person. I kept one beaded clutch that I still use, but that was the only thing of hers that I kept.

Then last week, I was cleaning out my room and found two flower-embroidered handkerchiefs that had belonged to her. I was very excited to find something else of hers that I would use and love.

I just turned twenty, which means that it was ten years ago when she and I went on the cruise and this fall will be ten years since she died. It was ten years ago that I ran around the Jubilee with no one but my imagination and found places where no one else was and felt like the only person in the world.

My grandmother was a real Southern lady. She had the Emily Post book of etiquette in her living room on the bookshelf and she had a fancy foyer that we had to walk carefully in on the occasions that we were allowed to go into it. She knew all of the rules of hospitality and social situations, and she taught me a lot of them, even though I don’t think I was listening.

A few weeks ago, I was at a bridal shower for a friend and some of the older ladies were telling those of us younger ladies about old Southern traditions for girls, particularly the passing down of handkerchiefs between grandmothers and granddaughters. They said that it was a great compliment to a girl to receive a handkerchief from a grandmother or older lady.

It may be pretty cheesy that I found these handkerchiefs so conveniently at the ten-year mark of our trip together, but I think it is such a sweet tradition and feel confident that she would have been someone to participate in such a tradition. Here's to handkerchiefs and memories and imaginations!

Love,
Lauralicious