Inspiration

Mum with my daughters not too long before she died.

My mother will be dead 50 years next year. I've had difficulty in re-reading letters she sent me. For context to so many letters, I was an emigrant to Canada in 1967. Which I've written about many times on this blog. Without fail, Mum's weekly letter would arrive with all the news, even though on the date of this letter, February 18th, 1971, she had less than two months to live. And knew it.

"My dear M----
I am late in replying to your last letter, I got caught up in lots of chores trying to get things done around the house as it's only three weeks from today is J==='s (brother) wedding. D--- (my 13 yo sister) got a lovely cream trouser suit,it's really nice on her,it will look pretty on her at the wedding.

I must get a hat yet, I may go into town some Saturday morning with Dad, it will be very quiet then, and the shops will be slack.

M--(her pet name for me)the green blouse will be nice (I had bought her her wedding outfit when I went back with my kids a few months before this) as I will try and get a light brown hat to match the suit you bought me, don't you think that will be nice?

The wedding will be formal, so no new suits to be bought (she means for the men and boys of the family who'd rent morning wear). I hope this letter is readable as I am rushing for post.

A--- is having only two bridesmaids, A----(another brother) is best man and KR (friend of J--'s) is groomsman.

M-- they will love the sheets (my proposed gift for bro and bride), get them a good big size and do send them before the wedding as you said yourself before, presents that arrive late are not half as exciting, do your best anyway M--.

L & S (cousins) sent a lovely dinner service, real good ones and such lovely soups with little handles, that's their third dinner service. I have not seen the other ones as they are over at A--'s aunt's place. I told you I think that D----(her sister, my aunt) gave them Waterford Crystal, a 1/2 doz tall stem glasses and K----(another sister) gave them blankets. From this on, I expect the presents will come in.

G.O'C, (a neighbour) gave a lovely carving set, pearl handles. He is coming to the wedding too. I was glad that J---(my brother) asked him. (G was a troubled young man, a good friend to J--- who suicided a few years later.)

P & C (my parents' best friends)are coming and she rang to ask me what presents were they after getting as she would get a set of china or cutlery. So I said to please herself, M--, I'm sorry if I keep talking about the wedding, we are so caught up here.

I was down at the doctor's yesterday and when the wedding is over, I will have to get these nodules off much as I hate the thought.

Give my love to T (former husband)and O & J (daughters) all my love M--xxxx you are never far from my thoughts. Mum

PS P(her best friend) was asking for you today, she really cares for your O. Mum."

I was feeling particularly sorry for myself today, the pandemic, worsening mobility, just general woe-is-me and I thought of my mother and all she suffered with a horrible form of cancer. Multiple amputations and thought to re-read some of the immense correspondence i have from her. She wrote as she spoke and I hear her words and feel her love in every line. I can't imagine what she was going through leaving behind her young children and still writing so lovingly to me in Canada.

A Letter from my Grandmother

I was reminded of a letter I received from my grandmother when I wrote the previous post. I went through my treasure box of my mother's and father's and aunts' letters (I wish they were all there, my mother wrote to me weekly, long newsy letters before she died just over 4 years after I emigrated to Canada). I am missing hundreds of them. But around 50 are saved.

Anyway I found this lovely letter from my grandmother, sent in the early part of 1970, she left it undated. she refers to my father visiting my mother every day when she had extended hospital stays. My mother was to die just over a year after this letter was written. Granny was never the same after her death. It was a terrible time for all of us.

Granny didn't like letter writing, she always felt embarrassed by her lack of education, she was very young (around 10-11) when she left school to work in service to help support her family. I have corrected her spelling where necessary but I have left her punctuation (or lack of) and grammar stand due to the charm of it and the way I can hear her voice in her words. My mother had that gift too.
I adored my Granny and had the great good fortune to live with her and my grandda for a while in 1946.

My dear Mary

Thank you ever so much for your lovely letter and present you never forget me Mary and thank God to hear you are over your trouble and that God sent you a lovely little baby girl a sister for O*** please God time won't be long slipping Mumma told me that she is very tiny but don't you mind that Mary they run up better than the big babies

Mumma (my mother) was the same too I could only bath her evening second day she was very hardy and Mary Mumma is getting stronger every day thank God for that I suppose you heard she was down to see us and she is coming down on Sunday so I will have this letter ready for her

I was thinking Mary that you will have the summer before you now and you will never miss her getting big what a lovely name you gave her Mary you are great I suppose T** had a say in that I don't think I hope the little darling will enjoy her name what do O**** think I suppose she is great looking at her and her little smile

O must be getting very big please God we will be seeing ye all in the summer and dad and all the boys are very good tis great that G***** (brother) got the bank and that he is very happy. J*** (brother) was down after Christmas he is getting to be a lovely boy he is after getting fine and fat thank God for that

I often felt very sorry for your daddy and the way he used looked after Mumma he never missed going up and down to her he was great to cheer her up thank God for that they are both very good and we have her to go to here for our little chats she is one of the best in the whole world

I am here at 51 Main street and am very happy which is a great thing Mary the flu was very bad thank God I did not get it so far all the families are going on great.

J--- (my cousin) is doing a line with a very nice boy he gives her a very nice time and she likes him

Mary dear I will ring off now and will give this to Mumma when she will be down on Sunday

I hope you make this out.

Good bye and love to Mary, T** O*** and J******* from Grannie xxxx

(PS) Tell T** I was asking for him it won't be long slipping when I will see all the family love Grannie

A Letter to My Granddaughter

Darling Girl Woman,

You continue to astonish me both in your academic career (Master of Economics, how brilliant you are!) and in your conduct of your life.

I feel so fortunate in having watched you grow and to spend so much time with you, whole weekends, whole weeks, having you in my office every afternoon after school for many years, having you and your mother living in my home in Toronto (albeit a separate apartment) for years.

I have so many treasured memories.

I remember one time picking you up from kindergarten and you clutching my sleeve and said "Grandma, are you warm enough?" Such concern from a 4 year old was indicative of the wonderful, kind person you would become. I remember when you got your first skateboard and I found an empty underground car parking lot and took you there and we spent 2 whole hours (and many times subsequently)while you skated and skated and whooped and jumped.

I remember riding the subway rails with you in Toronto with no destination in mind, just sitting behind the driver and watching the tunnel ahead of us. Getting off, so we would chat with the driver and sometimes getting back on again or sometimes riding the odd escalator and going down once more to ride with no destination.

I remember reading to you and singing to you ad infinitum. And writing stories with you.

We always pool our music and make playlists together and I love that you sometimes find new versions of my "old" music (Elvis!) and adore Ella Fitzgerald and my weird folk music tastes as I love your Pink and Lord Huron and you my Radical Face.

I remember our annual vacations together and the fun we had, it was hard to tell who had the most fun, me or you. I remember us two riding ferries and trains and hiking and playing pitch and putt and me watching you for hours as you rode carousels and switchbacks. And you playing all afternoon on the beach with your imaginary friends.

Oh hiking, lots of hiking. You would always spontaneously offer me your hand when we forded streams and came down cliffs. You would always point out the "safe" rocks for climbing. You were fearless and courageous. And still are.

Which brings me to now, and the time we spend together, you 25, me 76. You are endlessly kind and caring. I never have to ask you for anything. You hold my hand when negotiating icy sidewalks, you ask me for shopping lists so you can lug heavy or awkward items up to my apartment (and you include some desired items without being asked), you wash the dishes without my noticing, you display endless patience with the physical challenges I now face.

You are so wise. I can ask you for advice and you reflect deeply before responding. You are joyful and intelligent and highly sociable. Many comment on your beauty and you truly are very lovely. But it is your inner that shines, how much you care for your mother, your partner, your friends and your colleagues.

You truly are one of a kind. And I am so incredibly blessed that you call me Grandma.

Letters

I have some letters from my parents. Many emigrants of my vintage could say the same thing, I imagine. Many of these letters got lost along the way and I am sorting through what I have.

My mother would write me newsy letters. She wrote like she talked full of family and neighbour talk. Every week.

After she died, my father carried on. Writing me every week, getting pissed when I didn't respond immediately and reprimanding me mildly when he had to wait impatiently for responses. His writing was tiny, he would cram so much on to 2 pages, exactly 2 pages.

In this one (May 1991) he hits me on the head in the opening sentence:

"I thought you had given up the matter of letter writing".

And

"A pity you were not able to visit us this year."

- Well, Dad, I was broke. Single mum. 2 kids.

He proceeds on page 2 to tell me - without consultation, as always - when he would arrive in Canada for his annual visit - August 17th. Which was 1 day after my birthday. And then guilts me again with:

"you know the old saying if the mountain won't come to....etc..."

Thusly I would give up my measly vacation time to spend it with him.

We didn't have the best of relationships my dad and I. I felt obligated as he was a widower. He loved one of my kids and despised the other which made things awkward in my home. So I would take him away on trips to the states or the maritimes or touring Ontario.

We made half-hearted attempts to cross the distance between us. But I could never quite surmount the fear I had of him as when I was growing up he was a cruel, abusive and emotionally unavailable martinet.

But the last time we went away together, to Nova Scotia, he abused me verbally for the very last time. Post therapy, I stood up to him, declared my boundaries, and from then on he was no longer welcome in my home.

Subsequently, to my surprise, in all our interactions, he treated me with respect and yes, a little fear too.

The Box

The Box

Once a year
I open it.
And read.

I wish I could
Read through
Everything.

But try as I might.
Through tears
I can't.

It is all
I have of her
Now.

Her letters
To her emigrant
Daughter.

Full of news
Of homeland
Of life

On the lost
Side of the
Altantic.

Advice, concern
And most of all
Love.

Through her dying
One small triumph:
Baking.

Her words caress
On papery
Bits and bobs.

“You write well,”
“You're a good mother.”
“I miss you.”

“Thanks for the clothes”
“Write to Daddy”
“Another operation.”



“Please come home.”