Tom Anderson with you today as we mark another
important date on the Shady Dell calendar - the
two year anniversary of the death of our dear,
much loved old friend Margaret Schneider.
At this time, it is an honor to welcome
back Margaret's dedicated daughter,
my great friend, author and guest
blogger, Kathleen Mae Schneider.
Good Grief
by Kathleen
Mae Schneider
"Don't cry because it's over,
smile because it happened."
~ Dr. Suess
While walking
this morning
I saw so much that reminded me of
my mother. Many signs of young life
were everywhere, but I especially
noticed flowers like these pansies
in her favorite color. "She would
have loved these", I said to myself,
with eyes beginning to sting.
my mother. Many signs of young life
were everywhere, but I especially
noticed flowers like these pansies
in her favorite color. "She would
have loved these", I said to myself,
with eyes beginning to sting.
However, instead of feeling sad on this second anniversary of her death, I'm determined
to honor her memory in a way I know she would like - by emulating her. Like all good
teachers, she taught by example. She had developed a skill set for getting through
the many rough patches of her life and found ways to heal and go on. They are
now a road map for finding my own way through the darkness.
the many rough patches of her life and found ways to heal and go on. They are
now a road map for finding my own way through the darkness.
- "Bloom where you are planted."
Many people travel to distant places to avoid the inevitable painful reminders
of loved ones who died. Mother's comfort however, was found in the opposite.
Mother made this cross stitch design on linen when she was a newlywed, and it hung
on the wall next to the bed where she took her last peaceful breath. She loved the
house my father built, and repeatedly thanked us for allowing her to stay there.
- "Keep busy and work hard.
Get outside in nature to forget your troubles."
Get outside in nature to forget your troubles."
Mother said to not give yourself time to be sad. Find something
productive to do and feel "a good kind of tired" at the end of the day.
productive to do and feel "a good kind of tired" at the end of the day.
(above) The old sycamore's giant fallen leaves had just met their match!
We called her our Lawn Ranger.
Mother loved mowing her
grass - even at age 96.
grass - even at age 96.
Tiring work
+ sunshine
+ sunshine
+ fresh air
= antidote
for tears!
= antidote
for tears!
- "Find something to do to help others."
Mother was a gifted seamstress, and she loved saving her family money by
making or mending clothing for them, rather than always having to buy new.
"I want to be useful", she said, and she was!
- "Remember,
but don't dwell
on the past."
but don't dwell
on the past."
In the autumn of her 100th year,
Mother unexpectedly asked me
to take her to the Shady Dell.
She looked around silently at first,
surely revisiting scenes in her
mind. Soon, however, the old
stories of playing there as a
little girl bubbled to the
surface. After a short time,
mind. Soon, however, the old
stories of playing there as a
little girl bubbled to the
surface. After a short time,
she turned toward the car, and
without a backward glance said,
"Let's go home now". Smiling mischievously, she looked at
me and said, "I'm hungry."
No dwelling, right?
It would be her last visit
to her childhood home.
- "Be grateful for what you had,
and still have, in your life."
(above) My father gave this finely woven metallic purse to Mother during their 6-year
courtship. She treasured it because it symbolized one of the happiest times of her life.
courtship. She treasured it because it symbolized one of the happiest times of her life.
(above) My son Christopher and daughter Elisabeth wish their Grammy
a happy 90th birthday. Mother's family meant the world to her!
- "Laugh and have fun,
for goodness sakes!"
Mother amazingly hit a hole-in-one and won a free game on her 95th birthday at
a nearby miniature golf course. Although at her age she never left her house alone,
we jokingly accused her of sneaking in a practice round when we weren't there!
- "Count your blessings.
Expect more to come."
Mother put on her "health" (makeup) and perfume every morning, saying,
"You never know who might drop in. They always want to give me hugs."
She was right!
When Elisabeth returned
after two years of teaching
English in Japan, her sur-
prised grandmother was
prepared for her hugs.
- "Have faith and know
God is taking care of you."
God is taking care of you."
Unwavering in her spiritual beliefs, she said we are never, ever alone.
"He's always with you", she told me to remember when I'm sad.
This verse from a favorite Lucille Clifton poem describes my mother:
"Some angels have no wings.
They come to you wearing their own clothes.
They have learned to love you
And will keep coming,
Unless you insist on wings."
My dear Mama, I know that to you, death is only
a serious change of address, but I shall still always
miss you. Your voice, and the love we shared,
a serious change of address, but I shall still always
miss you. Your voice, and the love we shared,
will light my path through the darkness.
Looking back, and still regularly feeling your presence,
I think you were, and are, an angel. (No wings though!)
What an incredible woman. Just as active and sharp her whole life. And a hole in one on her birthday! That's a great way to remember her.
ReplyDeleteHi there Alex!
DeleteThanks so much for stopping by with your comment so early on this holiday weekend.
Mother truly was amazing in many ways, and we were so fortunate to have her remain in good mind until the very end. However, she was humble about any admiration expressed for her. That was part of her charm. The woman had no pretense about her whatsoever.
Taking her miniature golfing was a hoot, because she had no strategy to set up her shots. She played that game the same way she approached everything, without overthinking it. She just put the ball on the mat and struck it. She did, however, talk out loud to the obstacles, as I recall she did to the giraffe in the photo, saying, "I wish you'd please get out of my way." What fun we all had, as well as others playing the course!
Often, Mother outdid the real, serious golfers in our group score-wise. My husband says it was her relaxed and unassuming attitude that determined her success. I dare say that held true in other areas of her life as well!
Thanks again for your comment, and I hope your holiday is a good one, Alex!
How I love the picture with your mum holding the lil flat of pansies ...
ReplyDeleteso much it made me cry ... You are blessed. Thank you. Love, cat.
It's great to see you here, cat!
DeleteThat photograph of Mother with the pansies was taken the week before her eye surgery for glaucoma a number of years ago. Her eyeglasses at that point did her no good, but she could still see some of their bright colors. She loved all flowers, but pansies were special to her, because they do well in cooler temperatures and were some of the first colorful blooms she could plant in her garden come spring.
As I plant pansies every spring in my own garden, I remember filling her pots and flower beds with them for her when she got older. I always showed them to her closeup before planting them in the ground where neighbors could see them as they passed by her house and enjoy their riot of colors. I also smile when I think of Mother, who knew how much I loved cats, telling me as a very small child to look for the tiny whiskers and kitten faces on their blooms!
To the Victorians, pansies symbolized remembrance. For me, they still bring warm memories of Mother's gardens, and renew my gratitude for the blessing of knowing and learning from her.
Thanks for your sweet comment, cat. It surely makes this day a bit easier for me!
Have you ever looked at the back of the pansy flower, friend K and the green 1 "seats" the sisters sit on and the mother sits on 2 "seats" leaving no space to sit for the step sister? Just saying … Love, cat.
DeleteI never noticed that, cat. I'll be sure to check it out on the undersides of my pansies after it stops raining. Thank you!
DeleteDear Kathy,
ReplyDelete“Good grief” is the perfect title for your post! I don’t believe Margaret would ever want you to be sad about her passing even though it’s understandable because she brought such joy and words of wisdom to so many. Margaret was sentimental, delightful, inspirational and so very humble.
Kathy, your writing about your mother always bring tears to my eyes because you share with us your love for her.
She lived a simple life but was very rich with her talents, grace (and her gardening)!
Another wonderful tribute to Margaret from her beautiful daughter. Let us all celebrate her life along with our brave soldiers this memorial weekend!
Toni Deroche
Hi Toni!
DeleteThank you for taking time out of your very happy and special weekend to be here on what could be a sad anniversary.
You're right, of course, about Mother's wishes for my life without her. She always used to say that my father, son, all her brothers and sisters, parents and friends who had died "were in a better place than we are." "I miss them, but I don't wish them back", she often told me.
So I know she would want me to "be at peace" and go on as she did after her losses. She never felt sorry for herself as a widow, which always amazed me, knowing how much she loved my dad. She just was incredibly strong, accepted that going solo was God's plan for her life after he died, and adapted very well to life without him for her remaining 37 years. I am trying my best to do the same.
Mother told me about the original "Decoration Day" celebrations that made such an impression on her as a little girl. It was fairly solemn, rather than the marker for the beginning of summer that it's become today. There was a parade with members of the military in uniform, who marched to the cemetery where flags were placed on all fallen soldiers' graves to honor the ultimate sacrifice they had made for their country. Back then, the resting places of soldiers who had died in the Civil War and World War I were the ones being decorated.
Every year, she faithfully placed flowers from her garden on her family's gravesites, and was most pleased when all the dead were so honored with the cemetery filled with colorful bouquets like she remembered as a child. I think it was her way of saying thank you, and to simply show that she loved and remembered them.
Bob and I continued her tradition today, by placing flower planters on all the Brown family's graves and that of my parents. It was very moving to see all the names of my maternal ancestors engraved in stone on the older gravesites, especially since I've been researching and writing down Mother's stories about them. Although most of them died long before I was born, I feel like I know them!
Seeing Mother's grave was not as traumatic as I thought it might be. After two years, I guess I'm becoming her star pupil in the grief curriculum that she modeled. I just made sure her flowers were pink!
I'm so happy to read your reflections, Toni! Thank you very much for them, and I hope you enjoy this "Decoration Day" in your own special way.
Dear Kathleen. This is such an inspiring post you've written in you mother's honor. It really doesn't seem as though two years has gone by since your mother's passing. I appreciate you sharing with us her philosophies and advice on kicking sadness to the curb! "Get outside in nature to forget your troubles." I am a firm believer in that, but have gotten away from it in the past few years with so much happening in my life. I have vowed to get back there, because it is a true source of recouping your positive attitudes and emotions. Nature offers the best medicine for most of what ails you!
ReplyDeleteGosh! I cannot imagine being able to mow the lawn at the age of 96. My mother at 94 years, still gets out when she can to rake leaves and clean her flower beds. "Laugh and have fun" is what we most need later in our lives, isn't it. And, your mom stayed with her everyday tasks and was happy to be able to create and continue with gardening in her later years.
It is good that she wanted to visit her home (The Dell) and recall as she could, many of her childhood memories. And, she must have made a personal peace within herself on leaving the home for the last time.
My sister drives me by our old home when I visit her and my mother in Kansas City (we sold it in 1985). She wants to go to the door and knock, but I just can't make myself do that yet. I don't know why...I loved that house, and we know the family who is living there. Maybe the next time I go for a visit, I will surprise my sister by saying that I would like to go to the door-I've become so sensitive, I'm afraid I will get emotional.
Kathleen, I love this post and the photos you shared with us. What a beautiful metallic purse, and how proud you must be to have it!
You write so eloquently about your mother and her journey from her childhood memories, meeting Shady, and visits back to the Dell! She lived her life to the fullest, and had such a lovely family to share it with. Thank you so much for extending your memories of your mother our way!
Have a safe Memorial holiday, Kathleen! In addition to honoring our fallen soldiers, I believe we all remember the loved ones we have lost within our personal lives.
Suzanne
Dear Suzanne,
DeleteTwo years without my mother is hard for me to believe as well. Perhaps that's because she still seems near somehow - in the things she told me, the way she raised me, and the example she set.
Have you ever heard of shinrin-yoku? It's the Japanese practice of "forest bathing", which more broadly means "connecting with nature". Here's a good link that explains it: http://time.com/5259602/japanese-forest-bathing/
Although she never heard of the term, or knew of the scientifically-proven benefits to our health, Mother instinctively knew about this. She simply lived it as mostly a necessity, because we grew a lot of our own food. It being good for her body and mind was icing on the cake as far as she was concerned. I mentioned it once to her, and her response with that characteristic twinkle in her eye was, "Is that SO?"
Since I grew up at her side helping in her garden, I absorbed her love of being outdoors working with living green plants and beautiful flowers. I laughed when I read your statement "It's good for what ails you". That was her exact mantra!
Mother's mowing and daily tasks gave her a sense of purpose, and no doubt contributed to her longevity. In her nineties and still living on her own, it took three days for her to mow her lawn. We worried, but the neighbors kept an eye out for her, telling us they weren't concerned when her mower sat idle in the middle of the yard. They'd be sure to check on her and let us know if it ever had its motor still running!
Mother's humor was understated but effective, her kindness contagious, and she never let her childhood memories and recollections of her youth make her long for times that had long since past. I so try to emulate that!
When you mentioned your trepidation at visiting your old home, it reminded me of one of Mother's last birthdays, perhaps her 100th. She was still mobile enough to respond to the neighbor's invitation to go inside their house right next to hers, where we lived before my father built the one which would be her last. They wanted to give her a special birthday gift, thinking, as we did, that she'd enjoy seeing how they remodeled and fixed it up.
Instead, with conversational filters totally missing at her advanced age, she embarrassed the daylights out of my sister and me who accompanied her, by looking around and saying some things pretty bluntly. She asked out loud, "Why is there carpet in here? You can't see the floors!" Or "The couch doesn't belong there. It goes on the other wall!" About that gift horse...! Lucky for us, the neighbors understood and accepted our red-faced apologies.
Driving by Mother's house yesterday on the way to the cemetery to decorate grave sites, my husband and I noticed a hot tub ready to be installed out back. I could hear Mother's voice in my head, saying that soaking and baths are meant to take place in the bathroom - in the house - not the back yard! :) I was happy to see Mother's early summer perennials blooming their hearts out though.
I'm relieved to hear you enjoy my photos and stories about my mother and the Dell. I have so many mementoes like the "flapper" purse that I'd love to share! Some folks tell me that others probably aren't interested in such personal details, so I'm happy to hear otherwise!
Thank you, Suzanne, for writing such a wonderful and warm comment. In our world where so much divides us, this sharing of related personal narratives and accounts is healing. Let's do it again, okay?
Hello Kathleen, I love your posts about your dear Mother. She was a real gem..worth more than the rarest diamond or emerald. Her wisdom that she passed down is better than any self help book and if everyone had that attitude of life many anti-depression meds would be worthless! I'm glad she was able to stay in her home, like my Mom (who just turned 93) is doing with my sister there to keep her in line! So many similar attitudes of life, death, living, and loving are also in my Mom's code of life. Your photos are precious and it's seems impossible that 2 years have passed when I'm sure you wondered how you'd get through those first days without her. Thanks for sharing your thoughts and also her thoughts and memories. I hope we can all have a life where our trail is etched deep in the lives of our children and family members so we're remembered fondly and with many good stories left to tell the next generation. Take care Kathleen and I hope you have a nice day tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteHi there, yaya!
DeleteMother would blush to hear herself compared to a precious gemstone, but I'm certain she'd be pleased. She liked "sparkly" things a lot!
I like your description of her as an antidepressant. She was all of that, without any bad side effects! Once when I asked her how she managed to be in such a good mood in the years after my father died, she said, "I don't have time to be sad."
I think of all the caregivers without any real voices out there, sacrificing their freedom to tend to their elder loved ones in their homes. Two years ago my sister and I were on year six of Mother's day-to-day care, but we certainly don't regret having done it. We were happy we could keep her in her home, even as we aged ourselves!
Indeed, Mother's death left a very large empty spot in my life, and I certainly wondered how I'd adapt to her absence. However, as fate would have it, my husband was diagnosed with a severe cardiac condition barely a month after her funeral. His hospitalization and subsequent care found me also "not having time to be sad"!
I'm glad you enjoy my photos and the stories that go with them. I really love sharing them with you. Thank you so much for taking a look at my post and writing about your reactions to and thoughts about this bittersweet anniversary.
I hope this post in some small way allows Mother, even from the great beyond, to encourage us to live that admirable life you mention, that continues long after we're gone.
What a wonderful post about your Mother today. Your photos along with your memories are lovely. What an amazing person.
ReplyDeleteparsnip
It's good to see your comment, Gayle!
DeleteWe got quite used to hearing the word "amazing" to describe my mother, coming from people who even just met her in the doctor's waiting room. I found myself repeating the same adjective, both whispered to myself and to her sweet, beaming face, as I watched and was so blessed to cared for her during her last years.
I read that the base word for "amazing" (amaze) means to astound or perplex. But I like this definition of a beautiful woman a lot better, that I found in my searches:
“Beautiful is a woman who has a distinctive personality; one who can laugh at anything, including themselves, and one who is especially kind and caring to others. ... She is a woman who can inexplicably make you feel really good just by being around her, and yet brings such great sadness when she is gone."
This describes Mother perfectly!
Thanks much for your comment. I hope you return for more stories about her and the Shady Dell as she knew it to be over a century ago.
This is a beautiful tribute to your amazing mom. I love her mowing the lawn! She gave great quotes and true ones. We can all learn from this mom, woman, a force of beauty, strength and will. She is always alive in your hearts. She doesn’t need a bell to ring because she already has her wings.
ReplyDeleteHi there, Birgit!
DeleteYou know, that picture of Mother mowing her back yard is a favorite of mine too. I have a small framed copy of it where I can see it every day, as a reminder of what resilience and grit look like, as well as being able to fondly revisit Mother happily doing one of the things she liked best.
I just read about a scientific study showing statistically that having a strong sense of purpose contributes to health and longevity. https://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2019/05/25/726695968/whats-your-purpose-finding-a-sense-of-meaning-in-life-is-linked-to-health
Mother obviously wasn't a subject for that study, but as this photo proves, she could have been!
She said keeping her yard "neat" (in her words) was her "hobby". She did this regularly, even, as you can see, others didn't! It also helped her keep fit and mobile.
Thank you for checking out the post, Birgit, and commenting on its contents. I hope to see you here next time too.
Love that picture of your mother mowing the lawn.
ReplyDeleteOnce, as Mother grew older and noticeably more frail, some well-meaning folks nearly hired a service to come in and mow Mother's yard.
DeleteI say 'nearly', because when she found out about their plan, she vetoed it, indignantly declaring, "If I drop over mowing, you'll know I died happy. Please don't take that away from me."
She gave it up eventually, like she did everything else when she deemed it necessary, with grace and acceptance. However, when my husband took over the job, she'd toddle with her walker to the window to check on him. She said she needed "to make sure he was doing it right"!
Thanks for stopping by, Kirk.
What a lovely woman! I am always so amazed with your mother. She reminds me a lot like Nan; Nan died in her house too, she didn't want to leave. It was her home and she wanted to spend her last moments there. There's something about the Silent Generation that is so amazing to me. We have a lot of wisdom to learn from them!
ReplyDeleteThank you for your beautiful tribute, Kathleen. I am sending you lots of love and light on the second anniversary of Margaret's passing. Although we miss them in our world, their memories still live on with us, within.
Jessica
Your visit and kind comment are much appreciated, Jessica! It's easy to imagine Nan and Mother having a wonderful time together, isn't it? It's ironic that here we are as their descendants, connected by the thread of their love for us, enabled by a technology they never would have dreamed of understanding.
DeleteLike Nan's, Mother's home was a defining and very important part of her life. To her, that unassuming, solid brick house was like a shrine to my father who took six years to build it, and the family he helped her raise there. It was her healing and sacred sanctuary.
In an unforgettable and poignant conversation with her, when I gently reminded her that she could perhaps sell or give away some extra things to free up some space. With tears in her eyes, her unmistakeable Dell-era trauma surfaced. She quietly said, "When I was little, I lost my home and had to move around and live in a lot of different places. We hardly had anything, and we were so poor we only had ice cream once a year. Now I have a beautiful home, and I want to stay here and keep it just the way it is!" I apologized immediately, ashamed to even have suggested downsizing to this dear old woman who survived such early uprooting.
The only time I ever saw my mother genuinely depressed was when she rehabbed in a facility two different times. While cooperative and pleasant to everyone, she begged us to take her home. Knowing she had to become strong enough by working hard in PT, she summoned all her characteristic grit and strength, and learned to walk again.
Her wish granted, it was like plugging her into a magic source that I'm quite sure gave her several more years of life. In return for helping her spend her remaining days in that beloved home, I was given precious hours to enjoy just being with her, all the while absorbing and recording her stories and wisdom that I agree are much needed now.
I so appreciate that love and light you sent, Jessica. We see daily how they also are sorely lacking in our battered world. Thank you for caring and sharing, and I hope to see you here again in the future for more "Nan and Mother time"!
This was so Nan. I was thinking of writing a blog piece about the lessons our modern generation can learn from the Silent Generation. I'm thinking of doing some research and remember all of my older loved ones.
DeleteThank you for sharing Mother with us, Kathleen. I wish I knew her personally.
Your idea for a blog entry sounds good, Jessica. Tom and I both are glad to have the internet to not only share our memories of loved ones, but also contribute valuable information from other eras.
DeleteI'm finding as I collect Mother's stories, old photographs and mementoes, researching them for authenticity as I go, I've got a custom- made vehicle for documenting history for future generations. The personal accounts we relay from past times embellish the facts in history books and animate them. That's a noble and important pursuit!
Although you never met Mother face-to- face, I aim to make her personality come alive through my writings. Thereby, you'll hopefully be able to spend time with her, and feel as close as possible to the real woman.
I'm sure others would enjoy your collected narratives and memories of your loved ones, and their lessons that apply to our time. I know I would! :)
Tom/Kathleen,
ReplyDeleteGee, I thought I came by but I guess I was thinking about reading the tribute from my inbox. Life has my brain so scrambled lately. I'm sorry about that! *smack forehead* Margaret was an amazing woman and so wise! She knew what a lot of folks from her era that keeping busy was good for the soul and spirit. It's only when a person allows idle time to consume their time that causes so many things to go wrong - such as depression, becoming less fit, or just getting into trouble. I can't believe she mowed the lawn in her mid-90s. What a gal! She was an angel in this life and is now an angel in the after life. I'm ever so grateful for the pleasure of meeting her through Tom's previous blog, SDMM. I hope God's peace and love continues to comfort you. Blessings & hugs!
Hey there, Cathy! Thanks for reading my celebration post, instead of what could have been a dirge.
DeleteThere must be something in the water. I've got a dent forming in my forehead from repeated smacking, so no "sorries" are needed here!
Although we have trouble imagining lives like those of the last century, certain things that contributed to their determination and survival seem like common sense and still resonate with us. My mother had just a fifth grade education, but she followed her instincts and believed in God's guidance. That was enough for her - no supplements, no internet, no gym
memberships or spa treatments!
I often wonder what she could have become though, given the chances girls and women have today. However, after having a career outside the home myself, and seeing my daughter strive for peace and self esteem from hers, I'm not sure Mother's life would have turned out any better, at least in her own mind, and to those who knew and loved her.
My husband referred to Mother's lawn mower as "a walker with a motor", because she leaned on it as much as guided it! But you know, she loved doing it, and sometimes strangers driving by her house slowed down and did double takes. One young guy idled his truck briefly, and seeing me weeding nearby, pointed to Mother mowing and said to me, "They don't make 'em like that anymore!"
In the end, we figured any fitness and psychological rewards she got from lawn-mowing were worth any worries about her safety. She had no insomnia either. As she climbed under the covers after the day's exertion, she'd settle her tired bones into the mattress and say, "Good old bed! Thank you, God; I can still cut my grass!", and be asleep in minutes. In her last years, having become too frail to mow her lawn, she said no less enthusiastically, "Thank you, God; I can still walk!"
About a week before she died, I panicked because I could hardly get Mother awake one morning. She allayed my fears when she finally opened her eyes and smiled up at me mischievously. She said, "Sorry. I was busy mowing the front lawn."
Putting her recliner back for a nap that afternoon, she joked, "Now don't you worry, Kathy. If I don't get awake right away it's because I have to finish mowing. The back lawn's a mess from all the rain and it'll take a while!" How relieved I was that my dear Mama was still there - working and happy to do the things she loved, even if only in a dream!
I hope I can stay 'with it' physically and mentally as long as she did, and maintain the same sense of humor. That would enable me to do more post writing, showing more photos and relaying additional stories about Mother and her Dell years and beyond. Hopefully you would enjoy those as much as I would being able to share them.
Thanks again for your visit and comforting words, Cathy.
Oh yes - and be careful with that forehead! :)
Kathleen,
DeleteYour dear mother remind me so much of my late in-laws who are about 10+ years younger than Margaret. Work was their hobby. My MIL out performed me many times when I was in my 20s and her in her 50s (that's where I am now). While I'm quite healthy and active I wonder if I have the stamina that she seemed to possess. I believe whatever our passions are that we need to pursue them until nature forces to retire them. It's so important to have hobbies that you love to give you purpose and more enjoyment. Picking up my pencil again challenging myself to sketch regularly ignited a fire and now all I want to do is doodle, doodle, doodle! I'm not the greatest or best artist but I sure do love drawing and that's all that matters. I shall look forward to more upcoming posts what ever you care to share with the Blogosphere community in the coming days while you (wo)man Tom's blog home. Have a joyful and blessed weekend!
Hi again, Cathy!
DeleteLike your's did, my mother usually outperformed me in the energy department when we both were younger. She was so tough, and had an amazingly strong work ethic and inimitable life spirit! Those, in addition to a remarkable ability to mentally reframe tasks into a pleasant pastime, made her days satisfying and productive.
Being around her, it was obvious to me that this also grew directly out of her gratitude for being alive. She survived so many life threatening episodes from childhood on, and used to say, "I guess I'm still here for a reason."
Even if she couldn't say definitively what that was, her hands were always busy, doing whatever was needed - gardening, putting up food for the winter, writing letters to loved ones, or taking care of her grandkids.
Congratulations for getting back into drawing! When I want to kick that creative starter, I reread Betty Edwards' book, "Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain". I used the exercises she teaches with my art students, and they are excellent tools for anyone wanting to increase the visual sensitivity needed to draw well.
In the book (out in paperback), she shows drawings done by "non artists" before and after her instruction, and the results are unbelievably good! Sometimes even we artists just need a little extra inspiration and motivation, as well as the exercise you mention! I encourage you to keep those pencils out and sharpened!
Thank you for your second comment, Cathy. Have a wonderful weekend!
Such a beautiful post about Margaret. I really enjoyed "getting to know her" through the blog posts over the years from Shady( Tom). Margaret was an incredible woman. The picture of her mowing the lawn is just too precious AND the hole in one golfing pic. That metal purse is so gorgeous. How awesome to have a family heirloom like that.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the good review, holli!
DeleteEveryone seems to like Mother's mowing pic. She did too, and considered it a badge of honor. I always knew what she was reaching for in her purse when meeting people for the first time. She'd proudly flash her copy of it that she carried at all times, forcing the most sullen and negative people to smile or laugh out loud, even one time a new doctor. "Gee", he said. "What do you say you come to my house and mow MY lawn?!" It sure was a good ice-breaker!
I'm still discovering more heirlooms in Mother's belongings that were hidden in boxes hurriedly removed from her house before it sold. Among other things, I found her woolen knickers that she wore on trips to the mountains, ads from the beauty salon where her sister worked (You wouldn't believe the prices!), World War I newspapers, 1800's-era post cards, a curling iron that was heated on the top of the stove (used to curl my six-year-old hair in attempts to make me look like Shirley Temple...) and lots of hand made lace and linens. It'll take me years to sort through everything, because she threw nothing like that away!
This type of thing just might show up in future posts, and I think you'll like seeing and hearing about Mother's artifacts as much or more than you have the ones here. They tend to "prime" the story pump!
Until then, know how much I appreciate your stopping by and commenting. Your interest means a lot to me as I do preliminary planning for more of the same, and I'm quite sure it also would Mother. Have a good summer, holli!
I agree with Holli! I have enjoyed getting to know Margaret through Shady's blog over the years. Your mother was a wonderful woman!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Jessica! :) :)
DeleteSo many great thoughts here! My grandmother always used to say, "Bloom where you are planted." Margaret was a very wise woman! Enjoy the rest of your week!
ReplyDeleteHi, Sherry!
DeleteWe see my mother as wise, but in her estimation, she was nothing extraordinary. She simply worked hard and did what was needed, and showed love and kindness to others. Her days and her heart were full, her long life complete.
Once on a gray and rainy afternoon, I showed her all the blog posts devoted to her stories of the Shady Dell, or those honoring her birthdays. Afterward, she just smiled and, still unconvinced that her life was exceptional, said "I guess I'm pretty popular, but I sure can't figure out why."
When she was in the nursing home rehabbing from her hip fractures, it was hard for me to see so many elderly and/or incapacitated souls who lined the halls in transport chairs or rested immobile in their beds. I wondered if delightful stories and wisdom like Mother's lay dormant and forgotten beneath their silver hair.
I'm sure much of what they learned and knew about life was lost due to aging, and lack of time for understandably busy caregivers and family members to ask questions and listen. That's why I feel so blessed to have had the chance to sit by Mother's side, hear her stories and write them down as I helped care for her.
I also am grateful for the seventy years I was given to see the reasons why Mother was happiest in her home and garden. She never sought fame or a career outside of homemaking, and it was more than enough for her!
Thanks for dropping by, Sherry, and for writing these compliments for Mother. I hope the rest of your week and month goes well!
Thank heaven we have people like your mom to carry the light. This was a beautiful tribute to a special life and by sharing it with us, you've spread her message far beyond her friends and family.
ReplyDeleteYou know, I used to hate technology. Then, once I got beyond feeling humiliated by my lack of knowledge, I saw what a miraculous tool it could be, in a number of ways. First, it enabled me to stay a 'lifelong learner', a title thrown around so much in the educational circles of which I was a part. Add the need for info regarding my ancestral home, thereby stumbling (and I mean stumbling...) upon Tom's blog. Through this combo, I've left my 20th century world of harsh, one dimensional judgements by now, and see technology in a more balanced and realistic light.
ReplyDeleteI was only too happy to share what I learned via my iPad with Mother after she turned 100. She was amazed and pleased to see herself on the "inner-net! That increased the quality of her life for sure.
When her eyes became unable to see her beloved flowers that she'd planted return in the spring, I took photos of everything blooming in her yard with my iPad, then immediately took it indoors where she could easily see them by enlarging the screen.
So I work harder at not being afraid of new or different things. Why I even use the automated checkout at the grocery. Although I still get frustrated, I can now reframe that scary thought of a world run by impersonal and distancing computers and robots. While there's still certainly some of that, technology has become to me something intensely personal and connects me to other
humans.
Those of us who craft novels and narratives real and imaginary, especially appreciate this marvelous channel for our creativity and story-making. The opportunity to extend the lights to which you refer, like the 105-year-old one shown here, out into the world and the future.
I laugh when I think what William Shakespeare could do with the phone I'm holding in my hand! "Lead on, Macbeth" indeed!!
Thank you Cheryl Lee (I think that's your name!) for reading, thinking and sending your reflections. I look forward to future "Close Encounters of the WRITE kind"!
Hello, Kathleen!
ReplyDeletePlease accept my apologies for this long overdue reply, summer brings a few extra challenges for me as I try to keep the grandkids from becoming wide-eyed zombies from too much screen time.
My breath caught as I read this tender remembrance; so similar to my own. I feel as if our loved ones would surely have been kindred spirits; gifted to us so that we might know, and in turn share the joy of love, the thrill and healing goodness of nature in all its glory so that others, too, might flourish in the embrace of unpretentiousness. We are fortunate, and you are exceptional. Thank you so much for sharing!
Hey, dierdre - no worries with me, alias the Queen of Late... Anyway, you aren't overdue because I'm blog-sitting extra days for Tom as he and Mrs. Shady bask in Mexico's bright sun!
ReplyDeleteI smiled when I read your account of occupying your grandkids, remembering a gold-framed prayer written in elaborate calligraphy that I once saw. It read, "God help me to survive my many blessings."! :)
I concur that it seems our loved ones could have been kindred spirits. Some would say that's coincidental. Not me! Whenever I hear of another loving soul like Mother, that's not happenstance. It's more like a beckoning for us to follow their earthly paths.
We are being asked to pass on to others their caring ways as they did to us. Friendships are the fertile ground in which their seeds of kindness planted in us can take root, grow and bloom. Nature joins in by surrounding us with beautiful and bittersweet metaphors, proclaiming that love conquers and obliterates darkness, death and despair. That's sure cause for celebration season after season, as are the friendships we discover in sometimes serendipitous ways such as this.
Mother always taught that any good gifts we receive were meant to be shared - the 'rain and sunshine' that nourishes those seeds. We are indeed blessed to have been given life by two wonderful women and then shown how to live it, recognizing opportunities to extend their gifts when they appear in our lives.
I'm so happy to read your comment this morning, dierdre! I'm glad the post resonated with you. I sense our mothers' kindred spirits living on in us, and bestowing a kind of benediction to our conversation, don't you?
Enjoy those grandchildren.... I have a feeling there will be more chances to do that as summer begins!