My God, wonderful spirit within me and surrounding us…I sit this morning on the bank of the Sol Duc river in WA with my sweetie beside me, the gentle gurgle of water, sunlight streaming thru the trees, mountains rising sharply in front of me, occasional sounds of children, a passing car…after a good night’s sleep. And this poem…you all, the others, met in class for session #2 last night and I am one week behind, having been travelling, visiting my parents and joyfully engaging in the sights and sounds, energy of biking STP’s 213 miles, relationships with family….sights of beauty and wonder, and countless mindful walking meditation steps…and then comes this poem from lesson #1 on Grand Mothers! – so full of serendipity, a coming together in the Universe of my small life..as I was sitting on the stool at Lyn’s home and Jim shows me the email from Margaret Wheatley – I’m accepted into the Warrior of the Human Spirit program – oh joy and yet I couldn’t dance – or rather I could have but didn’t feel comfortable yet with Lyn to do so! Silly me – now I know I could have whooped and danced and then explained to her…but propriety and manners (whatever they are!) restrained me on our first night in her home!
And this poem so perfectly articulating the call to me (am I a Grand Mother or just a Grandmother!?), water gurgling the call…and what prevents me from rising to answer? Nothing at this time, save my own fears and lack of confidence – it is my time to claim my identity not bragging, more accepting what already is. – it will take a conscious intention which I make now, today into the universe, into the river whose drops will eventually flow into the ocean where I walked yesterday in the frigid waters of the incoming tide, waving with the floating seaweed in the rhythm of the ages…let it flow, and so be it…for me to continue to rise means listening, waiting, as I sat on a rock, and waited and watched the tide cover a small rock 5” above the water level, become submerged in the rising tide – sitting meditation of tides…perhaps rising will require a focus, a monitor of my time and energy – present moment, wonderful moment.- who and what will I choose – will I be led - to spend my moments, my one precious life? Being there, a thread of connection whole being here in a tapestry, a wide river of water here, all part of all one….in which floats a thread. Rising tide, rising of life to answer a call....
How did the poem, Mark’s class, the river, the Spiritual Warrior program all coincide, all flow in as tributaries into my one life this time? Agnes Marie died yesterday and she is my new patron saint…guiding with joy, radiating the goodness of others back to them, shining positive energy…it’s all so coincidental, in sync with universe leading me this day, this moment of light glistening on the rocks as water flows over….
My grandmothers – Nana was Sally, Salome de Barrechera, my mother’s mother. She was round and soft, dark eyes and hair and olive skin, full of love and laughter. Spanish was her mother tongue and how she usually spoke to me! She used to tell me that when I fell and skinned my knee that it was God punishing me for doing some bad little thing. She so desperately wanted me to be good! Nana was very religious and had lots of statues. She adored Mary, the Virgin which I guess taught me something about women power! She would give me burned toast in warm milk when I was sick, and I would gag at it. She’d say the blackened parts were the best for healing. She loved me, spoke Spanish to me, taught me the silly song “dos manitos tengo yo” that I taught our children…Nana was seldom in our lives, being an Army brat we didn’t get back to visit very often. When she and Rip (my step-grandpa - Mom's father died when she was 16) visited us in Hawaii I don’t remember much and was likely a smart Alek teen not engaged with her. I remember that Rip loved beets, and I think of him whenever I find them in a buffet line! He was a good man. My mom says he was an alcoholic but I only recall goodness about him, a gentle smile –and he loved Nana! I remember visiting Nana in a home for the elderly, where she was being cared for, it was an old house, not an institution. She was wearing black, which I think she wore often. My memory is so vague…so much has been forgotten, or never remembered in the first place.
Martina Van Beek Kneepkens, my Dad’s mother – she was thin and always smiling. She had a hard life – didn’t see her much either – visits to Wisconsin were few and far between. Their house had narrow steep stairs to the 2nd floor and I never could imagine how she raised 11 children there! She lost 2 children to whooping cough in the same winter, weeks apart, and couldn’t go to their funerals because of other children who were sick…Dad tells me she made a dozen loaves of bread every other day. - and he envied the children who had Wonder Bread White for their sandwiches at lunch in his Catholic school cafeteria!
I remember finding my Grandma early one morning on her knees praying the rosary before anyone else was awake and she smiled at me, invited me to join her and wasn’t the least bit mad at my interruption of her prayers…Dad said they used to all kneel in a circle and say the rosary and he hated it.
I have blurry remembrances of their 50th anniversary party, lots of people, family Ii couldn’t remember who was who – it was 1965 and I’d just graduated from H.S. and left Hawaii and was ready for college (not smart enough to appreciate the family gathering yet!) …she was a simple woman, and wise, lived in a small town, content and not gossiping. Jim & I drove from Omaha with my brother in the spring of ’68, up to Kimberly WI to visit them for Easter break. My parents had already moved to CA. I was crazy in love with my fiancé and my grandparents were hospitable and dear. I also know we spent some time with Birdie, my Dad’s baby sister – and then these amazing grandparents came to our wedding in August in CA, the first time they had ever been on a plane – and it was a gift to have them there with us. I wish I had pictures of them and need to look in our wedding album to see if there are any! That was important to me to have them there. The photographer was a friend of my Mom's and back in those days he wasn't frantic trying to get a photo of everyone with everyone else! My other Grandma, Nana and Rip were at our wedding too, but they lived near my parents and it wasn't as impressive to me to have them there - I was so blessed and didn't realize it deeply!
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