My husband's grandmother, who died one year ago today, was
just the best. She was tiny and sweet, always the first to snuggle a baby
or bake a batch of cookies, but she had a streak of steel running through
her. She was one of 11 children, a farm girl from Wisconsin, a nurse
in Hawaii during WWII, wife of a surgeon, mother of five. And oh, did she make us
laugh.
Things I learned from Monica Cass:
1. Cook dinner, even if you don't want to.
"I have cooked dinner for my family almost every night for more than 60
years. And I hated it every single time." No matter. The
family gathered around her table over and over again, it was the best part of
their day. She knew that.
2. Every woman should marry a man who loves to dance.
She didn't. She should have. She was a jitterbug champion.
3. Use the good silver.
And put it in the dishwasher, even. Life's too short and
there are lots of people at the table, so bring it out.
4. Never drink light beer.
"Give me the darkest beer you have." To our
waiter, when she was 89 years old.
5. Sometimes, you just need to put the baby on the fire
escape.
When Jon's grandfather was a young doctor, they lived in an
apartment on Staten Island. They loved to socialize, and would have friends
over to watch the fight on tv on Friday nights. So, she would put the baby in a basket on the fire
escape, with a bottle of milk mixed with a little bourbon. And she was a great mom.
Resquiescat in pace, Monica.
