Grandmas Soup Pots

This pot (Not the pot pictured) was at my house since last summer. I guess when my aunt's were staying with me they borrowed it from my gram without her knowing and then they moved out. I had no idea where it came from but it was nice, copper bottom and really cooked good. So I just assumed it was mine.

After that my grandma passed away. One day my uncle came down here and was talking to me, he seen me making soup in the pot but said nothing until later that night, he called me slightly intoxicated.

I wanted to tell you at your house but do you know where that soup pot came from, with the copperbottom?

Actually, no. I said as I lovingly washed the pot. (I love doing dishes while talking on the phone, it makes the chore seem less so.)

Well when mom was alive she got after me and argued with me about that pot. She loved it and she blamed me for stealing it or never giving it back. It turned into a two week feud. i don't want it now, he said. I just thought I would let you know that. I saw it on your stove and wondered if you knew that. Take care of it.

I put it in the strainer to dry and cried while I watched it dry.

I had no idea it was hers but now that I knew, it made me miss her again. How do I numb the loss of her I thought, everytime I use it I will think of her.

My man lost his grandma almost 3 years ago. He still cries fo her once in awhile. Grandmas are strong women, living longer than everyone and knowing SO much more. The Indian grandma always steps in and raises her grandkids also. Like a protective lion over her young, she makes sure they have enough to eat, a place to sleep and so on.

He went down to his grandma's house whenever we got our big order of porcupine quills in to get the pot his grandma used to dye her quills in. It took us 3 days to dye the quills. The first day we had decided to make chili and cornbread. Chili was one of my gram's specialties. I can't make it like her but I try with alot of tomatoes, onion and seasonings. You could smell it along with the vinegar and dye we had boiling for dying the quills.

I looked at the two pots, both boiling and serving the same purpose they had when the grandmother's were here and alive. The same things, loves, and ways of life our grandmother's passed along to us.


We will probably never get over the loss of our grandmothers but seeing the two pots boiling, well it was a beautiful thing.