Four precious photos

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
This story is written as I explore my relationship with my grandmother. The appreciation as I gain understanding of her strength and wisdom.

Submitted: October 16, 2007

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Submitted: October 16, 2007



You look back at me in all seriousness, but the days of laughter are treasured memories. Your eyes give knowledge of your wisdom as to the years of hardship that you have endured. You are my mothers’ mother the missing link to years of memories shared over a much-loved cupper, relived like a moving picture to keep her memory alive.
But who really knows you as your life a mystery it does keep me enthralled. One of eight children you shared the burden as your mothers helper as strength and faith helped you through the hardships of country life.
You married young to a slender quiet man, a builder by trade. The one photo you have shows a man bent slightly with a shovel to lean on, as if the years of struggle give weight to his lean. A swaged hat half tipped to cover his eyes. You honor him quietly as your memories lay buried.
The house that you built was like a beacon to all. For thirty years the little kitchen was the center stage for many of happy occassions as birthdays and Christmas rolled by. The fond memories of that little green kitchen, where on many cold winter days I spent playing and drawing. The ideas and recipes passed round the kitchen table as the countless cuppers brewed and stories were passed from generation to generation.
Craft was your livelihood as you sewed and knitted your way through many of projects for the charities that you helped. Your open arms of love that held so many children, the Autistic or blind little ones that you cared for all loved their nana B. The dolls that you made and the cakes that were baked a talent that I give thanks to you for as I acknowledge my own love of craft that I have inherited from you.
Your relationship with my mother was rocky at times, as ideas clashed and families were torn apart and this left me a stranger growing up in your midst, like a distant relative that visited once in a while. Religion played its part in the distance that was felt. As a stern catholic woman your beliefs ran deep. But my mother had different ideas as to the roll of religion in the family. My father  an atheist was part of the reason you believed there should not have been a marriage at all.
You tried to mend the rift as the years passed  as you  instilled your beliefs in my heart. My father grew to love you as his time shortened as the past you swept away with a new understanding.
As I grew older, I looked to you as a friend. Someone I could turn to in confidence as I opened my heart.  As a surrogate mother you filled the void and our special times together gave me the strength to endure my own hardships, and with deep respect I learned to appreciate your wisdom. 
I looked forward to  our meetings in town going to a movie or just shopping and then having lunch at Cole’s cafeteria (a family tradition). Or just to pick up the phone and say: “NanaI need you”, and to know you were there and ready to listen. 
The day you met Stewart, you opened your arms and welcomed him in, as our twosome now became a threesome  you  lovingly included him in our outings and at family gatherings. It gave me great joy for the way you accepted him.
The many late nights you spent working on my wedding dress to make sure that it was perfect on the day. As my nerves and tears gave way to tantrums of frustration, but like a rock you guided me through the difficult weeks leading up to my wedding. Calming me with your soothing words.
The day arrived for my wedding and in a time of mixed emotions I looked around to see you smiling so proudly as the vows were read. You stood by my side helping me through the happiest, but also my saddest day because only you could understand the heartache inside as the need for my mother you saw. But you stepped in and came to my rescue and you took the sadness away.
Standing side by side, looking down at my ring as your hand holding mine gently you squeezed it, as you reassured me in every way that I would be alright as long as I had you there. As the photo represents the darkness was behind us and there was only joy ahead.
Your gentle smile and your soft loving ways will always guide me as my memories remain, even though you are no longer with me and I miss you every day. But with these four precious photos that I treasure keep you close to my heart as my fond memories of you live on.

© Copyright 2017 annemaree. All rights reserved.

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