Doorknobs

Doorknobs
re-write 3-18-08

My grandparents, Lorraine and Bob were married when she was 17 and he was only 20, they raised four children in a small Cape Cod style house in Everett, just outside of Boston.
At 63 Bettinson Avenue, you could eat off of the floors; there was never a dish in the sink and always fresh vacuum marks on the carpets. It smelled like a bakery and a cup of tea was handed to anyone who walked in the door. My grandmother Lorraine is the only person I know who can justify the sound nutritional content of her homemade pecan sticky buns.
Despite it’s small size, their home was elegant and comfortable in a way that I’ve always admired, even envied. I found myself drawn to the order and cleanliness of their home. Everything was so organized and tidy, the curtains were clean and perfect, the custom built china cabinet held beautiful place settings that were never dusty, there were only two bathrooms but I never saw a speck on either mirror.
After my husband and I were married, we lived in a 600 square foot apartment with our 1st son and our 2nd baby was on the way. The apartment was small, dark and dismal and always felt cold. My grandmother never came to visit us there, I was embarrassed of where we lived and I looked forward to escaping to her home any chance I got.
A few years ago, my husband and I were designing our dream house, a big Georgian colonial set on a large meadow lot. We loved selecting the big things like counter tops, light fixtures and kitchen appliances but found the process of choosing the inconsequential items of doorknobs, window hardware, and switch plate covers very tiresome. While flipping through an immense catalog, I came across crystal doorknobs, circled them and told the woman helping us make the selections that I wanted crystal doorknobs on every door.
A few weeks later, the builder mentioned these doorknobs to me. “What house influenced your choice of doorknobs?” I had no idea what he was talking about; I thought I just really liked the doorknobs. But I remembered the house my grandparents moved out of nine-years earlier and it dawned on me that my grandmother’s house had made more of an impact on my tastes than I realized.
Their home had the most gorgeous, crystal doorknobs that sparkled in the sun but felt cool and heavy when you turned them. As a kid these doorknobs were the most beautiful things I had ever seen, I remember thinking nothing could be more fancy than crystal doorknobs.
More important than how they look, the doorknobs remind me of a time that seems so long ago. A place in time where my large extended family gathered for Sunday dinner and my siblings, cousins and I played outside until the street lights came on. In between playing tag and hide-and-seek, we’d try our luck at sneaking in to listen to the grown-ups discussing the daily news or neighborhood gossip around the dining room table.
When we were finally called in to eat dinner the vast quantity of food laid out in the dining room was overwhelming. A small country would not make a dent in the corned beef and cabbage or the roast beef dinner she had made. I’m still not sure how all of it managed to come out of Lorraine’s tiny kitchen. No matter who was at the table, my grandmother always made sure I had enough to eat she always managed to make me feel like I was the most important person in the whole world.
The first time my grandmother walked through our new home she oohed and aahed but made no mention of my beloved doorknobs. “Grammy, did you even notice my doorknobs? I loved the crystal doorknobs at your house so much I put them in my house.” She replied, “Of course you have crystal doorknobs. No other doorknobs would do in this house.”