Pauline Winstead Garrison Brincefield 1917-2012
I
believe it was the spring of 1981 when I was first introduced to the Bedenbaugh
Brincefield Garrison clan, and I don’t recall the occasion. But at the Colonial Beach Fire Hall was a
family gathering of some sort, and I found myself surrounded by a tribe of
laughing, friendly, exuberant, extended family - somewhat overwhelming to a
newly 20, young woman from a quiet, restrained, Anabaptist background in
Lancaster County. And I’d never seen so
many Mama Bears all in one place!
My
first impression of that gathering was that the group was largely women –
strong women, single women, confident women – at the time the only balance to
all the estrogen was that of Uncle Kenny and Bobby, who quietly, and
contentedly, took supporting roles in the affair’s choreography. In the middle of this glorious jangle of
people, sat Grandma Great, and if Grandaddy was present, and I can’t recall if
he was, he would have happily taken a side seat to the matriarch of the family.
I
remember her smile – warm and friendly – and the sweet, gentle southern drawl,
bred with an undeniable elegance and perceivable wit. Everyone was bustling about the hall,
preparing a long table with food and drink, setting up chairs, and amiably
catching up. I found myself the center
of attention, not because I was a compelling personality in my own right, but rather
because I was there on the arm of Carl, whom they all simply adored. As such, I was given the keys to their hearts
without hesitation.
Over
a period of 20+ years, holidays and summers included an assortment of such
gatherings, evolving over time to include numerous partners, spouses, friends,
and children. As the family grew, the
tables extended along with an inclusive generosity toward each new family
member or significant other that came along.
With
the passing of Grandma Great, my days have been flooded with distant memories,
played back in my mind as if they were yesterday… Polly sitting in the neat and
tidy, traditional living room of her home in Richmond, rubbing her feet on the
dog at her feet, and coaxing Jenna and Joe to her lap, laughing and playing,
with not thought to the inevitable muss and chaos left in our wake; her serious
demeanor as she sat at a bingo table, markers and a string of cards lined up
neatly in front of her, assuming a win; sitting in her pleasant kitchen with
smells of pies backing, or ham coming from the oven, while we talked about our
shared love of canning, cooking and baking…
One
particular holiday, we were discussing our favorite cookbooks, and I noted mine
was an old yellow covered cookbook of my mother’s, that I’d learned to cook
from at home - the Westinghouse Cookbook.
I liked it because it had all the basics – how to make chili, roast a
turkey or a ham, boil rice or make mashed potatoes, Harvard beets, piecrust,
and numerous yummy cakes and cookies. She
pointed out the same cookbook on her on shelf, and whether her perception of my
envy of her copy, or a simple desire to do something special for me compelled
her, I found it wrapped under the Christmas tree that year with my name on it,
and inscribed, “To Lisa, From Grandma Brincefield, Christmas 1990.”
I
cherish that cookbook. For the memories
it still stirs after many long years of use, it’s worn cover falling off, notes
in the margins of recipes that have developed over years of diabetic cooking
experiments, and favorite pages paper-clipped for easy finding. It contains the origins of my gingersnap,
meatloaf, pickled beets, and banana chocolate chip muffin recipes, all of which
have changed and evolved, and a good many that failed along the way, but
ultimately emerged in the learning as keepers.
Like
this much beloved cookbook, family has continued to change over the years,
under the watchful eye of the many Mother Bears, in the spirit and grace of
what we call “family.” The women who
succeed them, Jenna, Meghan, Jessica, Eva, Katie, Corey, Layne, Summer,
Kayla…embrace life with a heritage and character of grace, laugher,
forgiveness, and dignity inherent to their clan. The life they lead, and the character they
uphold, is a testament to the beauty that was, Pauline.
