My Maternal Grandmother

Margaret Dawson Hannigan—“Mom”

My maternal grandmother, Margaret Dawson Hannigan, lived next door to us. We called her “Mom,” and because she was so close, she was part of the ordinary rhythm of my childhood rather than someone we saw only on special occasions.

Many of my memories of Mom center on being in her kitchen and watching her bake. She made brownies from scratch and what I remember simply as her “apple things.” When dough was left over, she cut it into cinnamon sticks and sprinkled them with sugar. These small extras, made from something that might otherwise have been discarded, remain among my clearest memories of her.

I remember her dressed in house dresses with an apron tied over them, moving through the familiar routine of her kitchen. There were no memorable conversations or important lessons spoken aloud. I mostly watched as she measured, mixed, rolled, baked, and cleaned up afterward.

What remains is not the memory of a particular occasion, but the comforting repetition of everyday life. Mom’s presence was expressed through routine, work, and the familiar things she made with her hands. I did not need a special event to remember her. I remember simply being there, watching her in the kitchen next door.