Turtles In Heaven
This little turtle was a child’s art project, made in 2nd grade by “C”. Problem is two of my children have names starting with “C” so it is a tad unclear which one was the artist (no date). I suspect the two “C’s” will have to clarify, but in the meantime, turtle resides peacefully in our bedroom. It is precious, obviously, because my child made it as a treasured gift (sure, sure, I get the irony that I don’t know which child). It sits on our bedroom mantel, with its grass green color and charm reflecting the lovely French lithograph of 3 children gardening (https://www.ericasheirloomquilts.com/ericas-heirloom-treasures/gardening-in-history). The turtle also invites a bit of whimsy - there is something inside it which rattles when shaken – not sure what, but the sound is a sweet noise, and each time I pick it up I can’t help but rattle it. And Turtles always make me think of my mother, Barbara F. Humphrey (1928-2021).
There’s something about Turtles – a candy – that I simply cannot refuse. My mother, who hardly weighed more than 100 pounds most of her life, loved these candies. Of course, being my mother, she would buy one of the packets at the grocery store – you got three in the sleeve. She would give one to me, eat one, and then SAVE ONE in her purse. Ludicrous! Who doesn’t just snarf the package in one go?! Explains why I’ve not been near 100 pounds the majority of my life. I think the candy meets all my sweet tooth cravings: gooey caramel, crunchy nuts, and dark chocolate. Sprinkle a little sea salt on top and you would have nirvana as far as I’m concerned. I don’t know if tastes are hereditary, but I certainly learned of these treats from my mother.
Interestingly, the “Turtle” candy has been around a very long time. They were first created in 1918 by Johnson’s Candy Company, soon to become DeMet’s Candy Co. The company started from a candy and soda fountain shop in Chicago, owned by George DeMet. Mom, being born and raised in Chicago, clearly was familiar with the local candy, though I don’t know if she ever went to the actual DeMets Soda Fountain, located at 177 N. Franklin in the Loop in Chicago.
When my mother succumbed to a dreadful death from dementia, my close friends wanted to gift me something with a purpose. They selected a donation to the local forest preserve for a turtle restoration project. They had no idea of my mother’s love of Turtles, passed on to my sweet tooth as well. While the Forest Preserve dropped the ball on its “meet your turtle” process, I really didn’t mind. It was the sweet thought, which connected me in a very emotional way to my mother, that was important. In addition, one friend, a talented card-crafter, made a lovely remembrance card for me with the gift and I have saved it, hanging it on a bulletin board I see each day.
The photo my friend used for the card was from my visit to celebrate Mom’s 90th birthday. The staff loved the cupcakes, and the residents were a tad overwhelmed by the large bottles of wine (I escaped without getting in trouble so we’ll leave it at that). Sadly, Mom said to me that day would be her “last birthday”. She wanted outta here, poor woman, but painfully lingered on yet another 3 years, managing to land in Medical Care right as Covid-19 slammed into us all. Ok, I cannot continue in this vein as I will become weepy. The donation, gifted to the Lake County Forest Preserve, created more turtles for the woods we enjoy, and I will be grateful for the gift, the child-made craft, and the love and inspiration of a complex woman. And boy do I hope there are Turtles for Mom in heaven.