Sepia Tones

7 July 2010

The inimitable Grace Kelly

I realised the other day, when sifting through a stack of old fashion photos, a striking similarity between Grace Kelly's posture and presence - as well as elegantly coiffed hair and regal smile - and that of my beautiful grandmother, Edith Marjorie (don't call her Edith/Edie though! She was known simply as Marjorie). 
I've never written about her before, anywhere. Her existance and legacy seems to be living on throughout the years in me and my family's memories, private or otherwise. I was around 9 years old when she passed away. Despite this, my memories of her are vivid and strong - much like herself. I still smell her perfume, and the scent of it on a passing stranger feels immediate and empowering. I still hear her chuckle, and classic English accent ushering us into her home. I still remember her. And, I still see these traits glimmering in my own father now and again.
My favourite memories of my grandmother are varied, but one which sticks out in my mind is the comforting sight - on throwing my school bag down and leaping into a chair - of her, nursing an elegant china teacup, engrossed in a particularly thrilling game at Wimbledon. I guess that's why, at this time of the year, her absence is felt most strongly.
I was a bubbly, adventurous child and, looking back, my unnerving childlike bolshiness in her presence is quite hilarious really. She would let me run wild, partnered-in-crime by Rachel, at the summer garden party, dancing and prancing around in our best party dresses. Actually, I recently revisited my grandparents' former home after many years away, and am cheered to see the house still continues this summer party tradition even now.

She was, and is, many things to many people, but everyone who knew her shares a mutual memory of her warmth and charm. I could never do her justice in any written piece, but this is for her. I'll never meet anyone as innately beautiful as you ever again, and that's why you're My Heroine.
Sweet Dreams, Marjorie

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