By the time I knew her, she was no longer a young woman but she had the skin of a porcelain doll.
Her eyes were the most expressive I’ve ever seen. She could actually smile with those eyes!
Her name was Elizabeth and I was her granddaughter.
She taught me to sew, and to know my way around the kitchen. She told mesmerizing stories and loved to entertain my siblings and me with silly songs she made up on the spot.
Whenever I reach for lipstick – I think of her and grin. You see, she had a very specific method of putting it on, which was endearing and comical – all at the same time. She would painstakingly apply a bright rose shade to her lips, taking great care to have it perfectly even. Then, just at the moment I’d be sighing in admiration of her talent, she’d grab a Kleenex and blot her lips, not just a little, but so briskly that when she was finished – you could hardly tell she was wearing lipstick at all!
I was lucky enough to have her in my life until I was in my twenties. She’s been gone for decades now, but it doesn’t seem that long. To this day, I miss her – but the memories are sweet and vivid still . . .
You might also enjoy my previous St. Patrick’s Day posts:
Her Irish Eyes Were Smiling (with Irish Bread Recipe)