Poppy’s middle name is Anne.  She was named after my Dad’s mother Anna and Anne of Green Gables.   About three weeks after Poppy Anne’s birth my Gramma passed away.  Due to vascular dementia she had been fading from reach for about five years now; she wasn’t the Gramma I remembered.  Her physical presence was a comfort, though her decline was difficult to witness.  In the end she suffered a very sudden stroke and was almost instantly unresponsive to the outside world.  Just like that, without another waking word for this world, she slipped away from us.  The loss has been excruciating.  Amazingly, dad and Janet brought her to the hospital the day Poppy Anne was born and the generations gazed into each other’s eyes if only once.

Now the time has come to sell her home and divide her belongings.  She lived on a 50 acre lot which was severed from the original 300 acre farm.  This is the lot that my parents put their trailer; where I was born; where they began and ended their lives together.  When my dad remarried they brought in a house on a huge truck and laid it down where the trailer once stood.  I continued to spend summers and weekends there.  I remember trying to make friends with the chipmunks living in the wood pile.  When Janet and dad decided to move to another farm about an hour and a half away, Gramma and Grampa moved from the farmhouse to this house.  This space continued to play a solid role in my life as I visited often.

We were offered the opportunity of buying the house on 50 acres.  It would be a lovely spot to raise Poppy.  It has a beaver pond, forest, a workshop, a broken down chicken coop, a garden, raspberries, and lilacs.  Unfortunately it is an hour and a half from Mike’s work and we are in no position to buy a new house.  So I let go of the house and hold tight to the memories.

We arrived on Saturday.  The trees and vines are now unruly and the gardens unkempt.  I went to her room to nurse Poppy as soon as we arrived and was grateful for the time to take it all in.  Her hairbrushes lay on the counter with her jewelry in a perfect still life.  Cards and photos of landscapes and flowers scattered about; paintings that will never be painted.  Lying on the bed beside her wedding photo was a secondhand book I gave her one Christmas.  It was open to February 20th {Poppy’s birthday}.

I spent my entire childhood moving.  Changing schools, barely enough time to make new friends or find my role within the ridiculous hierarchy that exists in schools.  I seemed to be living out of suitcases every second weekend and summer vacations.  This house and space was the closest thing to a home base that I have ever had.  I was a lonely only child who was very aware of people’s reactions and feelings.  I spent many hours weeping in the hayloft with the kittens and puppies praying for companionship.

Gramma’s passing and letting go of this house has made me realize where many of my happy childhood memories came from.  I remember her baking and the yeasty sweetness of the house.  I remember shaking apples from trees and swimming in Grampa's homemade swimming pool that smelled like warm railroad ties.  I remember walks to the beaver pond and cross country skiing across the fields to the farmhouse.  I remember hours spent at the kitchen table playing with paints and fabrics.  I remember being allowed to stay up late while eating fruit dipped in yogurt.  I remember watching her card yarn and spin it on the spinning wheel.  I remember reading books about ghosts and natural remedies.  I remember dark chocolate.  I remember days at the beach with a picnic basket full of corn on the cob, potato salad, and chicken.  I remember mornings of hot oatmeal and crepes filled with homemade plum jam.  I remember watching painting shows and old movies.  I remember her fascination with Reader’s Digest.  I remember watching her paint.  I remember her love of birds and talking to the chickadees in a sing-song voice "heeeeeere pheeeeobeee".  I remember drying flowers and collecting poppy seeds from her garden.  I remember late Christmas Eves and Easter bean soup with buns and hand painted eggs.  I remember watching her weathered hands bake.  I remember sleepovers with my cousins.  I remember long games of monopoly and battleship.

These memories have made me reevaluate what counted as a child.  Perhaps it was different because I was an only child, but all I wanted was for someone to imagine and explore with.  All of my parents were in a position that required them to work full time and then some.  I was sent to day camps which, I am sure, was not cheap.  I know it was done with loving intentions, but it only exaggerated the fact that I was alone and different.  My best memories continue to be the ones spent with the creative matriarchs of my family.  Those artful days and holidays spent with Gramma and Aunt Cheryl sustained me.   Are we the last generation to know the traditional grandmother and mother? 

If any of you wonder where my deep convictions to stay home are rooted, this is your answer.  Don’t get me wrong, I know I was loved and everyone was doing the best they could with the situation at hand.  Divorce is never easy.  Ever.  I am not ungrateful, I am simply stating the facts of what this child remembers.  My childhood was lonely and scary for more reasons than I care to share despite everyone trying to smooth it out and make it ok.  I saw through the ripples and felt the conflict and worry.   I am grateful for every effort made and every person in my life; each with their own lesson.  Regrets and guilt are always pointless.  What we have is now.  I am sure Gramma made mistakes as a parent; I also know she suffered things no mother ever should and managed to carry on.  And I know I will make mistakes as a parent; it is a hazard of the job.  But, in a sense, I think we fix our own childhoods with our own children while grandparents find a second chance in the lives of their grandchildren.  

I realize now that it was Gramma who planted these deep roots of want; these images and ideals of an artful mama picking blackberries along the roadside and teaching her children the traditional and fading arts of nature and creation.  So in the light of memories and gratitude, and in rememberance of a well lived life, I vow to be a strong and loving presence in my children’s lives.  I vow to take Poppy’s lead.  I vow to take her seriously and see life and wonder through her eyes.  I vow to help her find her own rhythm.  I vow to get lost in drawing and make believe lands.  I vow to be patient.  I vow to take the time now.  I vow to be the tree she can always come home to.  

 
 {above photo by Diane Harrington-Kelly}

Farewell Gramma. 

You are loved.
Thank you for the lessons in kindness and grace.
May you be as free as the birds you loved so dearly. 
 
e.

Comments

[Elizabeth]

Such a loving heartfelt tribute...blessings to you

[gennysent]

Erin,
I am so touched by your tribute to your grandmother. Another kismet moment with you - I started something yesterday called "Vintage Vignettes" - please see yesterday's post:

http://gennysent.blogspot.com/2009/06/little-piece-of-past-vintage-vignettes.html

I am going to post this entry of yours in my sidebar (under Vintage Vignettes) because it calls forth so much loving tenderness about a time past. Please feel free to contribute more to this. I'm sure you have many of these heartfelt memories. I hope that you will share more. Your writing is so touching. Thank you. If we can all only know that what we have done/will do in life is appreciated or recongized by one person, if only one, that is what will make it all worth it. For your grandmother, you are (at least) that one person.

[Jen]

Absolutely beautiful and so honest... I am in tears! My Grandma passed away last year, and I tend to stop myself when I begin to think of childhood memories and summers spent on her farm... it just makes me feel so sad. I think perhaps though I really do need to let myself remember and revisit those times because they were so beautiful and innocent and such a part of who I am now. Thank you for sharing your memories... your Gramma sounds like a beautiful person.

My grandparents had kittens in their hayloft too...

[cathleen]

What an eloquent post. Thanks, Erin, for opening your heart and sharing...such a sweet vulnerability, as well as, strength in your words. I can only hope my little grandgirlies will feel the same about me.

[michelle]

Crying here, so much of what you share resonates with me, also an only child, divorced parents, spent loads of time with one gramma or the other and day care and school, and left on my own......all made me vow internally and later verbally to my husband that I had to be home with our children, it is not easy to express what you have so eloquently (stealing the word from above).....I am always the odd one out but you make me feel less alone in this motherhood that has some thinking i smother my son with attention...crying again...hoping your gramma knows how much she shaped your ideals!

[Jamie]

If i ever needed something to remind me why I too am staying home to raise my children you have done it. My parents too are divorced and so was home alone a lot raising my brother while my mom worked. I want to be the woman that you described as your gandmother. That strong creative woman for my children to see and remember. Thank you for reminding me of the woman that vibrates inside of me.

[Elle]

This is so beautiful Erin. Your memories resonate with me and my childhood. My parents are divorced and although I have a sister (nine years older) I felt alone a lot of the time. My parents worked long hours and I was left on my own after school most days. I remember being so afraid. I always hated being alone. This continued through my adult life and now I work everyday at enjoying and appreciating alone time. I have always wanted a big family (four boys to be exact) but modern day realities can get in the way of these dreams. I was blessed with two little girl beauties but I want more children and want to be home and raise them myself. I want to fill their lives with simple pleasures that I hope they will cherish when they're older. Thanks for sharing these memories.

[Becca]

A lovely post. I lost a beloved grandmother just a few weeks before my older daughter was born 2 and a half years ago. Sadly, my grandmother only got to see an ultrasound. The way that it echoes for me now, as I grow as a mother, is a bit different (of course), but there are some moments in your post that bring up thoughts and memories that are touching and important to me. Thank you for that.

[elizabeth]

remember your gramma to poppy
i remember mine to my maddie . . .

and oh, yes, stay home with her. even if it means tightening things up. she won't care about the summer camps nearly as much as the memories of time spent with you and of security and peace.

remember.

[flowers]

Such beautiful words. they emanated from the page. I was really struck by your question:

"Are we the last generation to know the traditional grandmother and mother?"

It really is a new era and like you my memories of childhood and grandmas are of baking pies, aprons, and cutting wild flowers for the table.

I am sorry you felt alone during your childhood. I am someone who has appreciated adulthood because I was not so happy as a child. I wish my boys to have that nostalgic childhood feeling instead of the crushing stress as I felt as a child.

[Denise]

exactly the reason I am leaving my job. It is no wonder you are you who are are knowing all these things about your grandmother. I can only imagine the smile on her face knowing that you are wanting to change your family tree. Poppy Anne has one great mama. And, she will have many fine memories.

[Lisa Stone]

Your posts are always about exactly who I am. It is so frustrating because I know no one else who is really like myself and I feel so alone at times. I remember my mom saying to me that I was "born in the wrong era" when I was a little girl. I remember that remark often, because I was indeed.

My values and interests and needs are akin to the grammas past. And it is so very frustrating to have no one to share my old fashioned-ness with.

I stayed home with my boys, but my youngest is in 9th grade and I must go back to work. It is scary being on the other end of raising my children. I am feeling lost, but grateful for having been there for them.

[jennifer]

i just knew annE of green gables had something to do with poppy anne's name! it must be that little feeling, thinking there is a bit of a kindred spirit in you.

i am amazed at how many of us grew up in divorced families and felt that sense of loneliness and sadness. i too. and just as you, i longed for that "someone to imagine and explore with." i also wondered, even at that young age... until today, "are we the last generation to know the traditional grandmother and mother?" although, i never experienced a traditional mother... my thoughts were/are more like: what happened to the importance and art of family? and what's so wrong and undesirable with the traditional role of the mother and father?

i was always very connected and close with my grandma. at the age of 17, i had the most beautiful time of my life with her, spending a month traveling the united states. just she and i. in her van. it was truly amazing. although we remained close, when i married (almost 12 years ago) and began working full time, we lost our closeness. i am SO blessed and grateful to have gained it back within the last month. she is now coming to my house several times a week. helping me with my new baby and trying to teach me the art of homemaking! seriously. my mother, being divorced, raised me with absolutely NO domestic-ness whatsoever. my grandma just taught me how to fold a fitted sheet! at the age of 80, she is out in my yard, pulling weeds. a truly amazing spirit. i love her to pieces.

thank you for, once again, sharing your heart and soul. it is lovely. i am glad to know it. may you ever be mindful of gramma. may she grace your days. may you feel her presence as you dry flowers, play monopoly and talk to the chickadees. and may poppy anne learn the beauty of her namesake.

[Andrea Kidssweet]

I too am a child of divorce. And even 30 years later the strain keeps my father and I apart. It can be so hard. How lucky you are to have had this special grandmother. I am sure she felt blessed to have you too.

Even though the computer seems impersonal, it can provide a like-minded group of friends to share. You are creating a beautiful blog that will bring more caring and good thoughts into you life.

[Leanne]

oh my god, you're kidding right? my poppy's middle name anne is named after a relative (my aunt's lost baby) and ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - my all time favorite character of fiction. you have got to be kidding me. incredible.

a beautiful tribute to your grandmother.

[hh]

What a beautiful post to sit down to. You speak deeply to the sometimes insecurities of a sahm. "The deep roots of want..." you spoke it so well.

[http://mysweetbabu.typepad.com]

Wow, thanks for writing this. As an only child of divorce it was amazing to feel so *not* alone in the words that you wrote! My mother had to work full time to support us, so I too was more or less co-raised by my grandmother. I learned so much from her! She died many years ago now, but there are not many days that go by when I don't think of her,espeically when I am sewing of knitting something. In that way, the good memories stay with me.

I did eventually have step/half siblings,but sadly, we were never close. I have not spoken to my father in a couple of years, however my mother and I are ridiculously close. I never wanted my children to feel how I did, the lonliness... That is exactly why I wanted to be home and to have a big family...we are actually praying that soon we will be able to announce that there will be a healthy 3rd babe on the way...I'd rather live with a little less (and stay home) and be able to give my kids my time and the love of a big family that I missed out on. It can be tough, but we always figure things out, and it is SO worth it!

[deb]

Your Gramma was an amazing woman. And still is. It lives on with you and your family now. Thanks for sharing this part of you with us.

~xoxo...

[earthycraftymommy]

Wow, I'm so glad I took the time to catch-up with your blog. You are one very brave woman to share all of this. I, too, spent my childhood moving--23 places before I was old enough to vote. I know that's why making a home, and staying home with my children is THE most important work I could ever do.

My memories of summers up in New Brunswick with my Memere & Pepere are the happiest from my childhood. Learning to tat, quilt, and garden, catching "lightning bugs..." Sometimes I wonder if anyone else could possibly ever understand this.

Thank you so much for sharing & helping me feel a little less alone in this world!

~Michelle

[Jen]

I find your thoughts and writing so lovely to read. And my memories of my Grandmother[s] both, are akin to these. What a sweet song you share here on your blog.

[Mara]

Tears filling my eyes now ;-) Thank You so much for sharing this. ;-)