by Christine Thrasher
Originally written for her funeral on November 13, 2013 in Keene, NH
I.
Harriet Corliss Thrasher
Harriet
Hatt
Little me always called her “Nana”
Never “Grandma,” that was for Grandma Jane
Nana and Grandpa
Al and Hatt – they had ALNHAT on their vanity plate
They were always early, Al whistling up the walk
(She called him Alden)
Hatt’s line: “I’m glad to see you”
She really meant it, I could tell
by how she would smile warmly and pat my hand
II.
Harriet Emma Corliss
Daughter of the Worcester Farm
Brother, Charles: “Are you going to tie her out today?”
[Have you heard that story? It was one of her favorites to tell. There was an elderly neighbor who would give her graham crackers, so she was always sneaking over to her house. Her mother decided that the best solution was to tie her to the porch. One day, Charles said to his mother in front of his friends, “Are you going to tie her out today?” Harriet was so embarrassed. In retrospect, she thought it was pretty funny.]
She remembers the sound of horse-drawn sleighs delivering milk in the snow
III.
I would sit by her in the den
Drinking a ginger ale float
She would explain her needlepoint to me
Usually something with cats
She loved cats
There was Ernie, the gray one
When I would come over she would say, “Look, Ernie, it’s your cousin!”
Ozzie was the shy black one who mostly stayed in the spare room
IV.
I would ask her about the uncle I never knew
She’d say, “Lindsey was a good boy,”
And her eyes would fill with tears
A mother never gets over that
V.
The house was old, her childhood farm
Every year they painted it a grayish green
We bought them a number “37” in Italy
And they had it on the door for years
Nana and I would sit on the porch and watch the birds
She had lots of birdhouses and hummingbird feeders
And we’d water all the plants
At night I was scared of the attic door
and the tap tap tap of the heater
I would get into her twin bed and she would let me stay
Two sardines
She woke up every day around 4 A.M.
VI.
Drives to the Glebe Road to feed the geese
That was our thing
I loved it
That swamp was so big and mythical in my child’s mind
VII.
Hatt shows me her treasures
Blue Glass
On all the window sills
Shells
Sea Urchins
a big Shark’s Tooth
Old milk bottles
I would put on her old costume jewelry and scarves
The cuckoo clock went tick tick tick
Al’s portrait in the dining room
VIII.
Harriet, in slacks and Estée Lauder perfume
With soft hands and kind words
Harriet of 37 Leverett Street
Wife of Alden, mother to Tim and Lindsey
Nana to me
[typography font=”Droid Sans Mono” size=”9″ size_format=”px”]Author bio: Christine Thrasher is in the Interior Design program at Bellevue College, but from a young age, she has always had a passion for writing. She has written many poems and essays, some of which have received high praise in the academic setting. In her current artistic focus, she continues to draw inspiration from literature, as well as film, fine art, and of course architecture and interior design. She maintains a high GPA while balancing school, work, and her family which includes two cats, one dog, and her partner, Julia, in Seattle, WA. Her design work from Studio I is currently on display in the L building on the Bellevue College campus.[/typography]