Fall had passed, the leaves had fallen and it was that sad time between the end of the beautiful weather and before the magic of the first snowfall, indicating the the end of another year. I can find beauty in all the seasons, but there is something about this time, this limbo, this purgatory of waiting, this not quite the end of one season and not quite the beginning of another ... something that creates an ache in me. At this time, I long for the first snowfall.
This year, an email had gone around at work to see if there was any interest in having a cookie exchange at the beginning of December. That was about a month away and, since this was something I had often wanted to participate in, here was my chance!
I lived a rather solitary life, not by choice, and know I need to put forth the effort of changing things in my life. And I thought that this would be a good opportunity to put my toe in the water, so to speak. Eight women and two men had signed up for the exchange, and I was one of the women. We had a meeting one lunch hour and talked about how we all need to agree to put forth a commitment for something more than a simple sugar cookie, and definitely not chocolate chip cookies from Costco!
I don't do much baking but I enjoy it. I thought long and hard on what I was going to make, what I wanted to share with my colleagues. Remembering back to Christmas when I was a child, it was not a particularly happy time, but I do remember sometimes helping my mother make cookies. I remember shortbread cookies with nuts, rum balls covered with chocolate sprinkles, thumbprint cookies. I vaguely remembered a cookie that my grandmother made; I don't remember much about my grandmother as we didn't spend much time with them, but for some reason, I remember this cookie. A buttermilk cookie with cocoanut on it. I decided that was the one I would make.
But first, I had to find the recipe!
My grandparents and parents had long since passed away, so this was not going to be easy. I had fallen out of touch with my relatives on that side of the family, for good reason, so contacting them was out of the question. Perhaps I could find the recipe online? Out of all the gazillion recipes online, not one resembled the cookies I was determined to make. Perhaps someone from the community? There was a woman who seemed to always be visiting at my grandparents the few times we were there - I wonder if she would have the recipe? But what was her name??
I called my sister and she, not only remembered her name, but also had an old phone number of hers! Edwina Crupp obviously had made more of an impact on my sister, Theresa, than she did on the young, impressionable me! I tried the number ... the phone was answered by a woman's voice, someone definitely younger than what I thought Edwina would sound like.
"Hello?" she ..
"Hi. I'm looking for Edwina Crupp. Might you know who I'm talking about?"
"She is my aunt. Can I help you?"
"This is a bit of a strange request - I'm participating in a Christmas cookie exchange and I would like to make cookies that my grandma made. My grandparents and parents have passed away and since she knew my grandparents well, I wondered if she might have the recipe. And that's why I'm calling. Can you help me?" I rambled on.
I could hear the woman smiling on the other end. "Are you the grand-daughter of Norma and Otto Schmidt?" she asked.
"Yes ... how did you know?"
"My aunt used to talk of them all the time. Her family was very poor and sometimes they could not afford to take care of my aunt. My father was older than his sister so he had gone away to seek his fortune, but my Aunt Edwina had a difficult time. Your grandmother and grandfather took her in like their daughter, and sometimes I think she thought they were more her parents than her own parents!"
"Wow! I didn't know that!" I responded. It made me feel a little bad that I did not get to know my grandparents that well.
"Is this cookie recipe the one made with buttermilk?" the woman asked.
"Yes, that's the one! Do you happen to have it?" I asked excitedly.
"As a matter of fact, I do. Would you believe that your grandmother created that recipe? She invented it!"
"Really? Wow! Now I really want to make them for this exchange!"
I made arrangements with Irene Crupp to drive out to meet her and get the recipe. Irene offered to email it to me, but I wanted to meet her and talk to her about what she knew of those days. It would be nice to know a bit more about my grandparents than just their name!
And I knew that when I made the cookies, that there was much more than a recipe in these cookies! There was a story that was part of my history, a part of who I was, that came from these cookies. I was very glad for this chance to meet my grandparents, even if it was 50 years too late.
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