Site icon MarLa Sink Druzgal

Grandma Hazel: A Sense Memory

My grandma Hazel smelled like Cashmere Bouquet Soap. I know, because her hugs embraced my six-year-old self in a full-body envelope. Walking into her house on Factory Street in Marion Center, I always smelled cookies. I always hoped she had been making Sour Milk Jumbles, my favorite. The entryway greeted me with a loping wooden stairway to my right and pocket doors to my left. Beyond the pocket doors sat the 1892 upright piano. Grandma could play like an angel. I imagine her playing it still. She passed in the winter of 1977.

I am writing a long essay about Hazel (Shorts) Work: her influence as a grandmother; her life as a mother of 7; her work as a social worker in post-depression rural Pennsylvania; and as a resilient wife of an alcoholic. I’m hoping to publish it, so unfortunately I can’t share it here, because even blogs can be considered “published.” So I hope you’ve enjoyed these snippets, and the photo below.

In one of the last photos of my grandma, which I discovered yesterday in looking for photos of my dad, I was surprised to find myself in my first photo-bombing episode. There I am, peeking through the arms of uncles. I was disappointed at first, that I *ruined* this photo of Hazel and a few of her children, then I realized this might be the only photo I have of me with my grandma Hazel.

L-R: Grandma Hazel, Aunt Jane, Uncles John and Pat. I am photobombing between John and Pat. My younger cousin Ian is on the far right.

My friend Lauren has a new blog, called the Pittsburgh Cookie Table. Recently she featured my grandma’s No-Bake Cookies recipe. I hope you’ll take a moment to visit her blog and if you have 15 minutes, make them for yourself, enjoying the legacy of a warm and resilient woman.

Love, Marla

http://pittsburghcookietable.blogspot.com/2012/06/best-no-bake-cookies-in-universe.html?spref=fb

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