Marjorie G. Call, 87, a long time resident of the Dunwoody Village retirement community in Newtown Square, died Friday at her home there. Mrs. Call, a nurse, was born in Sharon, Pa., but spent her childhood in Hazleton, Pa. She moved to the Philadelphia area after graduating from high school, and attended the Philadelphia General Hospital School of Nursing. She later taught at the school. A member of the Drexel Hill United Methodist Church, Mrs. Call loved to play bridge. She was the wife of the late Joseph Call. Survivors: a daughter, Sally Maurer, a son-in-law and two grandchildren.
That was her official obituary. Now let me tell you a little more about my grandmother.
To quote a phrase I read in a book, she was "a jewel of a grandmother." As far as she was concerned, the sun rose and set on my brother and I. She just adored us, and was every bit as loving as the picture on her interment looks. She taught me every card game I know, and would play Monopoly with us for hours on end. She would take us out to lunch with her friends, then take us to the toy store. I still have two dolls and a stuffed bear she gave me.
Every phone conversation with her began the same way: "Hello, sweetheart! How are you?" she would say, when she knew it was me on the phone; she was always delighted to hear from me. She taught me to needlepoint and tried to teach me to knit. She gave us rides on the back of her electric wheelchair (she could walk, just not long distances). My brother and I would fight over whose turn it was to sleep over at her apartment (she only had one extra bed, so we had to take turns) because that was the ultimate treat to us. Every year she bought geraniums from my brother's Boy Scout troop, and we helped her plant them. She was there for every holiday and birthday.
She went to nursing school (class of 1927) at the now defunct Philadelphia General Hospital, "the Marine Corps of nursing," as one of her doctors put it. She later taught there and also worked as a supervisor at the Vineland Training School in Vineland, N.J.. She married my grandfather in 1935, and my mom was their only child. She was a widow for 31 years and made it on her own that whole time.
She was generous with everyone she knew. She gave me many things, both material and intangible, that I still treasure. I have framed on my dresser a note from her that simply says, "Dear Jen, I love you."
I consider myself very lucky to have had her in my life, and I miss her every day.
That was her official obituary. Now let me tell you a little more about my grandmother.
To quote a phrase I read in a book, she was "a jewel of a grandmother." As far as she was concerned, the sun rose and set on my brother and I. She just adored us, and was every bit as loving as the picture on her interment looks. She taught me every card game I know, and would play Monopoly with us for hours on end. She would take us out to lunch with her friends, then take us to the toy store. I still have two dolls and a stuffed bear she gave me.
Every phone conversation with her began the same way: "Hello, sweetheart! How are you?" she would say, when she knew it was me on the phone; she was always delighted to hear from me. She taught me to needlepoint and tried to teach me to knit. She gave us rides on the back of her electric wheelchair (she could walk, just not long distances). My brother and I would fight over whose turn it was to sleep over at her apartment (she only had one extra bed, so we had to take turns) because that was the ultimate treat to us. Every year she bought geraniums from my brother's Boy Scout troop, and we helped her plant them. She was there for every holiday and birthday.
She went to nursing school (class of 1927) at the now defunct Philadelphia General Hospital, "the Marine Corps of nursing," as one of her doctors put it. She later taught there and also worked as a supervisor at the Vineland Training School in Vineland, N.J.. She married my grandfather in 1935, and my mom was their only child. She was a widow for 31 years and made it on her own that whole time.
She was generous with everyone she knew. She gave me many things, both material and intangible, that I still treasure. I have framed on my dresser a note from her that simply says, "Dear Jen, I love you."
I consider myself very lucky to have had her in my life, and I miss her every day.
Marjorie G. Call, 87, a long time resident of the Dunwoody Village retirement community in Newtown Square, died Friday at her home there. Mrs. Call, a nurse, was born in Sharon, Pa., but spent her childhood in Hazleton, Pa. She moved to the Philadelphia area after graduating from high school, and attended the Philadelphia General Hospital School of Nursing. She later taught at the school. A member of the Drexel Hill United Methodist Church, Mrs. Call loved to play bridge. She was the wife of the late Joseph Call. Survivors: a daughter, Sally Maurer, a son-in-law and two grandchildren.
That was her official obituary. Now let me tell you a little more about my grandmother.
To quote a phrase I read in a book, she was "a jewel of a grandmother." As far as she was concerned, the sun rose and set on my brother and I. She just adored us, and was every bit as loving as the picture on her interment looks. She taught me every card game I know, and would play Monopoly with us for hours on end. She would take us out to lunch with her friends, then take us to the toy store. I still have two dolls and a stuffed bear she gave me.
Every phone conversation with her began the same way: "Hello, sweetheart! How are you?" she would say, when she knew it was me on the phone; she was always delighted to hear from me. She taught me to needlepoint and tried to teach me to knit. She gave us rides on the back of her electric wheelchair (she could walk, just not long distances). My brother and I would fight over whose turn it was to sleep over at her apartment (she only had one extra bed, so we had to take turns) because that was the ultimate treat to us. Every year she bought geraniums from my brother's Boy Scout troop, and we helped her plant them. She was there for every holiday and birthday.
She went to nursing school (class of 1927) at the now defunct Philadelphia General Hospital, "the Marine Corps of nursing," as one of her doctors put it. She later taught there and also worked as a supervisor at the Vineland Training School in Vineland, N.J.. She married my grandfather in 1935, and my mom was their only child. She was a widow for 31 years and made it on her own that whole time.
She was generous with everyone she knew. She gave me many things, both material and intangible, that I still treasure. I have framed on my dresser a note from her that simply says, "Dear Jen, I love you."
I consider myself very lucky to have had her in my life, and I miss her every day.
That was her official obituary. Now let me tell you a little more about my grandmother.
To quote a phrase I read in a book, she was "a jewel of a grandmother." As far as she was concerned, the sun rose and set on my brother and I. She just adored us, and was every bit as loving as the picture on her interment looks. She taught me every card game I know, and would play Monopoly with us for hours on end. She would take us out to lunch with her friends, then take us to the toy store. I still have two dolls and a stuffed bear she gave me.
Every phone conversation with her began the same way: "Hello, sweetheart! How are you?" she would say, when she knew it was me on the phone; she was always delighted to hear from me. She taught me to needlepoint and tried to teach me to knit. She gave us rides on the back of her electric wheelchair (she could walk, just not long distances). My brother and I would fight over whose turn it was to sleep over at her apartment (she only had one extra bed, so we had to take turns) because that was the ultimate treat to us. Every year she bought geraniums from my brother's Boy Scout troop, and we helped her plant them. She was there for every holiday and birthday.
She went to nursing school (class of 1927) at the now defunct Philadelphia General Hospital, "the Marine Corps of nursing," as one of her doctors put it. She later taught there and also worked as a supervisor at the Vineland Training School in Vineland, N.J.. She married my grandfather in 1935, and my mom was their only child. She was a widow for 31 years and made it on her own that whole time.
She was generous with everyone she knew. She gave me many things, both material and intangible, that I still treasure. I have framed on my dresser a note from her that simply says, "Dear Jen, I love you."
I consider myself very lucky to have had her in my life, and I miss her every day.
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Marjorie 1906 - 1994
