Ali Marsman

Book III: Because of Grandmother

 

     Reading what my Grandmother has left me helps me to understand the meaning of my Mother, who was so intelligent in Her knowledge.

 

     My love for the apple tree I played under, (and continue to) has been enjoyed by my family for as long as I can remember; giving the same memories to my own children.  My fondness for apples and using the recipes my Grandmother made for my Mother, are used for my Daughter and son and partner.  I want to be the same Mother She was, and She was for Her, teach everything I know the same way as them, with my own creative talent added; for that they encouraged it!

 

         Working side-by-side in the kitchen with them, and even though it has been so long since Grandmother's passing, I remember our time together as if it were yesterday.  With my Mother passing yesteryear, I wanted to start my memoirs of them, and leave them for my Daughter and son to keep the tradition of our family continued.

 

         My Mother became one for the first time later in Her life, so I am quite young to have her gone; Her golden birthday I was born the same day, it was not even planned that way; how merry of my start She was. I was her pride, her joy, her beautiful Girl, and She made sure I knew that throughout my life.

 

         Throughout my life She treated my dad with uppermost respect, which taught me how to love as deeply as they showed me it could go.  Sat on the lake and the field together where She taught me just about everything I know, read poems to me, about me, every birthday since I was born, which She later turned into stories and keepsake books … I read those particular ones now yearly and write my own too, and on the very same window’s bay She wrote, I write at the same spot, my children enjoy listening to what I write to them on the day of their birth, and for no particular occasion, doing as my Mother did for me.

 

         I always think about Her.  It was because of my Grandmother, my Mother made me to be such a caring Mother, so many stories to recall later while growing with my Daughter and son.  Ones to begin with from family traditions passed down to keep us going, I miss Her so much, but I keep going.  My own children look to me the same, my partner loves me the same as I felt as I was becoming who I am, and will be, and plan to be until my time ends. 

 

         I was born on the same day as my Mother was, I don’t remember what I was yelling about, but I was crying my eyes out ... until my Mother held me.  She said I never cried like that again, and it was because She kept me safe from my birth date on.   

 

         Because of Grandmother I was raised well, She kept Her Daughter close to her and taught her everything She knew. My Mother knew to do the same for me, and because of Her, I could not wait to be a Mother like Her, to be able to love like her and show my children how to be fulfilled in life ... while completing my Soul having them. 

 

         Tomorrow is my anniversary, Mother’s too; my partner and children are downstairs already planning what we’ll do.  The basket of apples I noticed at breakfast must be for the pie and for my favourite type of pancakes, Mother’s too.  I can expect to hope each year to have family and friends gathered, laughter and excitement always around. 

 

         “Merry of your Start” my Mother always wrote to me on my day, and as my day was approaching She would say, “You are coming!’ ‘But, I am already here!’ I exclaimed!  She explained, “No matter how many years that will come to pass, the excitement of your arrival will be the same ... already knowing what to name you, getting your side of the room ready…” Writing plays and stories long before I could read them, She read to me.  Danced about and spoke the parts She especially wrote in for me.  She held me close to Her and always said, ‘I love you, you have me for anything you need, and with all the time you need.’                                                                               

 

         I say the same things to my children as I happily watch them grow; they are an important part of my Soul, in helping its growth.  It was when Grandmother was alive that I knew I was going to be just fine, for She loved Her Daughter the way I knew I was going to be loved forever, Her hug felt like Mother’s hug.  I looked up to them both, and because they offered so much hope, I knew I was going to be great, so it wasn’t that difficult following the things they expected of me, especially since they only wanted me to do whatever it is that pleases me.   

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         The stories She wrote soothed me, I am sure I remember her reading aloud to me before I was born, for it was so familiar to me once I was born.  It kept me calm.  It was because of Grandmother, I loved Mother so much, I remember them being so much the same, similar dedication pronounced on their being as they stood, same warmth from their hands.  Sitting at their feet as they sat together on the settee, words creatively throughout the room as I listened with closeness to them.

 

         I wanted to be just like them, and so I listened to what they taught each other to be able to later join in.  Those parts written especially for me for as far back as I can remember, I was always included; Mother always had me close to her as She was next to her Mother.  So sad She was when She lost her Mother ... my Grandmother gone, my Mother gone now too … I get very sad.

 

         With our birthday tomorrow I can start to taste the sweet flavours of the apples baking, as we excitedly waited for our pie to be presented, sharing the first slice together, after we wished aloud sometimes the same. 

 

     Especially as I grew older did I realize we were just the same, the dedication of them now pronounced up on my being.  With each birth date that comes I can see I am moving closer to what I was shown, a life of true love as I live happily with my own family, with traditions from my beginning.

 

         Awakening to the early morning with the smell of apple baked pancakes with the air, my children singing, ‘Merry of your birthday here, Mama your birthday is here!’  And even before my children were born, my partner came in the room singing the same, flowers and mimosas ready for my celebration, excited for what the day and evening will bring.

 

         By afternoon our home is filled with our family and friends, and even though the grounds are covered in snow we gather outside around the fire, some of us we skate.  We eat, laugh and toast into the evening as we move the celebration inside.  Music getting louder as we kept the beat alive from the day, the celebrations lasted for as long as I can remember into the evenings.  I will remember Mother, each year, today especially I will rejoice us in poem ... 

 

‘Happy birthday Mother,

today is our day,

I never imagined you would be gone

 

so soon in my life,

but I have this date to remember;

to grow each year with you,

I have the slice of apple pie

to wish the way we use to,

a similar hope to the future;

wishing for continued peace,

I miss you Mother every single day,

but especially this date;

on our happy birthday, Mother.’

 

         The fireworks happened after our company left.  It was well past midnight and my partner walked facing me tossing petals at my toes, all the way to the bath, and in the bath.  The fireworks happened at last; I could feel them as the excitement from all day and evening rose.  Our shadows dancing on the wall, as relaxed down as we could be, the fireworks happened for my birthday ... happy birthday to me.

 

         Of course I cried for my Mother, I do especially on days like yesterday and every other celebration we planned, and all the other special Moments we shared.  And as much as I miss my Mother, I long for my Grand One just the same ... I remember how She called me ‘little one’ before my name. 

 

         She had the softest hands, I would always place them on my face, ‘Little One you remind me of your Mother, which is a beautiful thing.’  She made me smile, and so when Grandmother died I sat on the bed for as long as I needed to be, my Mother was there too, comforting me from what we lost together … oh, how I long for my Grandmother’s hot and soft hands.

 

 

         Because Mother was so much like her own, I miss her just the same, my name always sounded important as She beckoned me to come to Her.  We always awoke everyday with excitement, running down to the tree, deciding which apples to pick.  Lifting me up until I was tall enough to reach the branches on my own; these mornings now alone running across the field now without her. 

 

     Although my children bring me the same joy when I awaken them the same time, especially during Winter’s time when there are fewer days we can spend outside, and so we enjoy sitting at the window’s bay, writing words and making up stories and plays, and often times recalling the ones my Mother left us.

 

         This month it is Winter, and I am reminded by the laughter we shared upon the lake, the hot apple cider to warm us because we did not want to be inside.  All morning into the evening frolicking about in the snow, a Winter’s fairy land portrayed, playing the day away. 

 

     The evening was filled with Mother relaxing me down, tangerine bubbles in my bath as I sipped on my cider, listening with my Mother beside me reading my nightly bedtime story ... 

 

Chapter One:  The History Right Before Us

 

Once in time not too long ago, was a land much like our own; the dedication of the people there inspired the children’s Spirit to grow.  Everyone there was filled with peace, doing exactly what it was when they were needed, and all the other times in between they enjoyed all that was around them. The sky was oh, so blue every day; a rainbow came out daily, the birds that woke Sun up stayed out until dusk to play.  During the night’s time, the rain would come to help the land to grow, a beautiful Song to put the people to sleep, upon the windows and roofs it would beat.  They kept the beat.  There was music playing at any given moment for anyone to join in, and for those too who could sing, sang to the pulse outside, went outside and relaxed everyone down as they simply lived to enjoy life at every single moment.  They had enough food and water, and great fodder always they brought the life that was taught to them, from so many from the past who worked the land to where it was that they lived.  They vowed, 'We shall never once forget those who have come before us, all the work they did for us, or the knowledge they left for us.' They listened closely as they shared past knowing in morning meetings, around the water they would greet each other as they read from books written so long ago; to keep the land at its highest growth the people of this time were dedicated, much like the land in which we live today; the story has begun …