Chocolate Ancestors

When I was a kid, I thought the See's Candy lady was my great grandmother. I came about this misconception when my dad's mother, Gramma Jo, pulled an old box of pictures out of her closet and showed me a picture of her mother. Once. For about 30 seconds. I got a glimpse of white hair, little round glasses, and a white collar. Gramma Jo was German-American, which partially explains her belief that children should be seen and not heard--and should definitely not touch a person's private stash of old pictures. I never saw that picture again--until See's Candy opened a store in the mall near our house.

All the women in our family are chocolate slaves, so a See's Candy store opening was a major event. My mother and I floated into the store on a cloud of chocolate aroma. I couldn't see over the counter, which put me at eye level with shelf after shelf of beautiful, glistening mounds of chcolates. I was hooked. And there , in a frame on the counter, was a picture of my great-grandma. I recognized the white hair, the little round glasses, and the white collar.

"Mom, Mom!" I cried. "That's Gramma Jo's mother!" My mother was lost in the ecstasy of choosing chocolates. She looked at me with dreamy eyes and said, "No, I don't think so. That's a picture of Mrs. See." I was thrilled. I was related to the See's Candy Lady!

My affection for Great-gramma/Mrs. See grew with each visit to the See's candy store. I envisioned the lady with the halo of white hair and kindly face whenever Grandma Jo mentioned her mother.

When I got older, I asked my dad about his wonderful grandmother. He looked puzzled. "She was tougher than a drill sergeant," he said. "She dragged me to church every morning before school, and smacked me in the head if I didn't pay attention." I asked why he didn't just tell her he didn't want to go. "When Grandma Schussler told you to do something, you did it!" he said, as if the answer was obvious. I was bemused. Who was Grandma Schussler? I thought Mrs. See was my great-grandmother!

It's just as well I never met my actual drill-sergeant, head-smacking German great-grandmother. I rather like my vision of a kindly woman with a ready smile. I've more or less adopted Mary See as my ancestor. Hey, it would explain the chocolate in my blood stream, wouldn't it?