Ada

As with her late husband, John, and her daughters Maureen and Jennifer, my earliest memories include Ada.

It’s been a long while since I’ve seen Ada as we all knew her before dementia, but seeing her obituary made her true absence real. I do not remember the moment I met her daughter Maureen (I won’t tell it again as it was covered in multiple entries linked above!). I am quite certain our families would have come together without our child intervention, but it’s fun to think we galvanized the process.

The universe bought us – the Walls and the Scotts – in each others’ paths, and what followed was a childhood of fun and connection between two families who did not have extended blood family nearby. Our families became a family.

Holiday dinners were often planned around Ada’s nursing schedule, and I always thought how hard it must be to work the hours she did. She had an admirable work ethic that bled into everything she did.

I remember my mom sending me over to Ada with a loose tooth after I had been undoubtedly fretting and fussing over it, the underlying vibe being “She’s a nurse, she’ll know what to do”. I stood at the kitchen sink at their Yale Ave home, and Ada reached in and popped that puppy out. No fuss no muss.

Countless Thanksgiving dinners, each contribution complimenting the next. Christmas dinners to beat all dinners, followed by board games late into the night, always played with overly full bellies. Easter brunches which included egg hunts. These meals were special and elegant while still being comfortable, warm, and not stuffy. Ada was pivotal in creating these memories.

I have vague recollection (likely from being told this story) of smelling chocolate chip cookies with my puppy nose and making my way over and asking for some (zero shame). I don’t recall her ever turning me away. She was an excellent baker, particularly skilled with pies. During a visit to the cape in my adulthood, she showed me how to make her excellent pie dough, using a wine bottle instead of a rolling pin because that’s what was handy and it works just fine, thank you. 

I will never master it the way she did.

These two homes with backyards that kissed were not like others. The meals consumed within them were not the TV dinner or meat and potatoes fare. In Ada’s house, her meals were sometimes influenced by middle eastern cuisine. She made a gazpacho that I loved which is wild considering it’s basically salsa and I would never just eat salsa (maybe it was the Fritos on top that lured me?). The parents in both homes were activists of sorts, and community volunteers, setting quite an example for us kids.

I was always in awe of Ada’s past as a Peace Corps volunteer, and enjoyed hearing stories of her adventures, including one about giving birth to Maureen in Iran in less than ideal circumstances! I’m sure she was scared as hell, but when she told the story, I saw her as nothing short of brave and incredible.

I remember coming home from college after being diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. The diagnosis caused a thirty pound weight loss. I approached her in the yard and her face met me with such concern, “Oh Cydney! You’re so skinny!” Her care was always a constant.

There was a comfort in looking out any of our back-facing windows and seeing her making magic happen in her garden. When I bought my own home she gave me cuttings and helped with ideas. She even came over to landscape for me once with John.

Ada was a wholly singular person, and my words aren’t doing her justice. She was quick to laugh and took guff from no one. She was a brave girl from a farm in Virginia who boldly went out and saw the world. She loved her daughters and was proud of all four of her grandchildren. She always met me with a smile and made me feel at home.