Following a Family Thread
My grandmother’s embroidered artwork represents an artistic spirit she and I share
There’s something so comforting about picturing my grandma watching Wheel of Fortune and embroidering the words “Love is All We Need” on a piece of linen. Actually, I never called my grandma “Grandma.” She was much too spunky and outspoken for that name. Instead, my siblings and I always called our Grandma Lorraine “Nanny.”
Unlike me, Nanny did not grow up in the fertile Central Valley of California. She was raised in the ’30s and ’40s by a single mother on the plains of North Dakota in a town called Minot. Times were tough for the family during the Great Depression and World War II. Nanny told us all the classic tales, including walking a mile (uphill!) to school in several feet of snow and having to use an outhouse in negative degree weather. Truly, a chilly bum. Through it all, Nanny developed a strong work ethic and resiliency. After researching accredited hospitals with nurse training programs, she boarded a Greyhound bus just before her 18th birthday and left North Dakota for Oakland, Calif., to begin the nursing program at Kaiser Permanente, the only hospital at the time that offered free tuition, room and board, uniforms, and books.
Nanny worked in the Bay Area for five years before boarding a plane and flying to Oahu, Hawaii, where she began to work at Kapiolani Hospital in Honolulu. While in Hawaii, she met her future husband, my grandpa Philip Poukish, who was an officer in the U.S. Air Force. After an unexpected pregnancy, they quickly married in 1957. Nanny then took a break from nursing and spent the next 18 years raising four kids on Air Force bases in 10 different cities across the country before finally settling down in Yuba City, Calif., in 1975.
I knew Nanny as an avid reader, sewer, quilter, staunch Democrat, and dedicated crossword puzzler. She was a night owl who loved watching late night television and legitimately could have been a champion on Jeopardy! It was only this past year, the last year of Nanny’s life, that I saw her as more than my grandma. Through sitting and listening to her stories, I saw Nanny as an artist, a nurse, and a woman who was always working towards a better life for herself. I feel this same courage coursing through me as I make patterns and sew pieces for my clothing line, Ooey Gooey Vanshop.
I knew that moving around was such a significant part of my family’s past and it made picking up and moving around in the world feel less scary to me. After graduating college in the spring of 2018, I bought a one-way plane ticket to Australia. I spent the next two years in constant motion as I traveled and worked all over Australia and New Zealand. I lived out of two different cars and slowly navigated my way from place to place. I learned to surf, met life-long friends, drove across the desert, and started Ooey Gooey Vanshop (which began as a portable business of selling secondhand clothes from my van). Reflecting on these years makes me realize how my love of change was always inside of me, inspired by a zest for life that seemingly runs deep in my blood.
The art I have inherited from my grandma is a wonderful representation of the passions that she and I share. My favorite pieces are Nanny’s framed embroideries, all crafted in the late ’70s and early ’80s. Carefully stitched lines of colored thread depict scenes of mushrooms and plants, owls and pheasants, and sweet sayings like “Bless This Home.” They are pleasantly tactile, full of depth and color, and truly capture an era when phones were plugged into walls, coupons were cut out of newspapers, and time moved more slowly. Each piece must have taken hours of deep concentration and flow to complete. These embroideries provide a portal into the past and will always tie me to Nanny and the love and attention she gave to her handwork. How special to fill my space with such masterpieces!
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