Irene Saint-Pierre
My grandmother taught me how to sew. My first piece was a pair of bellbottoms that I made in '98 with rainbow trims and later a happy face patch on the thigh. I also made a funky tank top out of an old orange and white flowered pillowcase with white lacy fringe. A friend of mine wore it to a 60s dance in high school and for all I know she probably kept it.
Today marks nine years since my grandmother passed away, the same day Johnny Cash died. They played his music all day on the country classic channel and I can't listen to his version of Nine Inch Nails' Hurt without thinking about death or wanting to curl up into a ball and cry. I'm sure you feel the same way.
As much as it might sound strange or impossible, I have never felt closer to my grandmother than I have in the past six months. She was on my mind as soon as I moved into my previous, mouse-infested apartment, and I'm sure it was the strength she instilled in me that got me through it.
She was tough as nails, loved us unconditionally, but gave us shit when we deserved it. She grew up in Trois-Rivieres, married Rene and raised 4 kids, one of them being my mother.
We talk about her a lot and miss her a lot, but the great thing about passing on is the memory you leave behind. She may not have known it when she was alive, but the lessons (and the recipes!) will live on forever, even if I don't eat meat. Her tourtieres and apple pies were and continue to be a staple in our family tradition.
Rest in Peace Gramma, I love you,
Katie
Today marks nine years since my grandmother passed away, the same day Johnny Cash died. They played his music all day on the country classic channel and I can't listen to his version of Nine Inch Nails' Hurt without thinking about death or wanting to curl up into a ball and cry. I'm sure you feel the same way.
As much as it might sound strange or impossible, I have never felt closer to my grandmother than I have in the past six months. She was on my mind as soon as I moved into my previous, mouse-infested apartment, and I'm sure it was the strength she instilled in me that got me through it.
She was tough as nails, loved us unconditionally, but gave us shit when we deserved it. She grew up in Trois-Rivieres, married Rene and raised 4 kids, one of them being my mother.
We talk about her a lot and miss her a lot, but the great thing about passing on is the memory you leave behind. She may not have known it when she was alive, but the lessons (and the recipes!) will live on forever, even if I don't eat meat. Her tourtieres and apple pies were and continue to be a staple in our family tradition.
Rest in Peace Gramma, I love you,
Katie
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