Grandmothers are treasured in most families, usually leaving a legacy of love, wise advice, and wonderful memories. I wish I could have known my Mormor. She spoke Swedish, immigrated to the USA from Finland, became a young bride in Upper Michigan, and died at 37. The shock was difficult for Grandpa who insisted his family speak only English--except for occasional children's games and songs. The oldest daughter, my Aunt Viola, dropped out of school at thirteen to care for her younger siblings. My mama was almost two when her mother died; and she also lost her father when he dropped
into the snow two days after Christmas, a few years later.
I often wonder about Grandma Fina.
As a child, I wandered around the Steve Family home on rare visits up north and pictured what her life might have been like. There was an antique pillow with a woman's face on the bed where she died. Eerily sad, memorabilia from the past was scattered around the house--including an old wood burning stove that was used to heat the entire home. The creaky stairs conjured images of a bygone era and beckoned me to places I had never been. I've asked the why, when, where, how questions over and over. Mama didn't know most answers. Aunt Viola gave me new insights but her world seemed frozen back in time with unanswerables.
Every year I celebrate my grandmother's birthday~July 13, 1882~by trying to speak Swedish; I know lots of songs and sayings. I also eat blueberries and make little meat pies resembling pasties. This year I'm going to write special notes to each of my grandchildren and let them know how much I treasure being their grandmother, with my dreams for their own meaningful lives. Life goes on...and the outcome depends on what you set as your priorities.
into the snow two days after Christmas, a few years later.
I often wonder about Grandma Fina.
As a child, I wandered around the Steve Family home on rare visits up north and pictured what her life might have been like. There was an antique pillow with a woman's face on the bed where she died. Eerily sad, memorabilia from the past was scattered around the house--including an old wood burning stove that was used to heat the entire home. The creaky stairs conjured images of a bygone era and beckoned me to places I had never been. I've asked the why, when, where, how questions over and over. Mama didn't know most answers. Aunt Viola gave me new insights but her world seemed frozen back in time with unanswerables.
Every year I celebrate my grandmother's birthday~July 13, 1882~by trying to speak Swedish; I know lots of songs and sayings. I also eat blueberries and make little meat pies resembling pasties. This year I'm going to write special notes to each of my grandchildren and let them know how much I treasure being their grandmother, with my dreams for their own meaningful lives. Life goes on...and the outcome depends on what you set as your priorities.
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