I hope you enjoy the following poem by my great-grandmother Alice B. Johnson (taken from her book, Where Children Live, 1958)
I cannot see the brown earth turned
Upon white petals gently blown
Upon the ground where I should spade
My garden plot. Have I not learned
I must not waste one precious day
Of spring? Somehow it will not stay
And wait for seeds that should be sown –
Why MUST I let my heart be swayed
By fallen petals of yesterday –
Why can’t they gently blow away?
Lovely! I, too, had a remarkable grandmother. She danced for “the old folks@ when she was in a nursing home in her later 80s and never, to my knowledge did not start breakfast without a cheerful, “Thank you God for this beautiful day.
And one who I’m discovering may have been more remarkable than I thought. She raised two kids and cared for their aging Grandpa alone after her husband, my Grandfather, Jack, drove a car off a cliff into a canyon while drunk when my Dad and my aunt were very young. This was in a small Colorado mountain town from the 1920s on. She never remarried. I remember her as kind but sad. While on a family vacation to my “home town”, I walked over to see the building she owned, where she raised her family. It was a tall two story building a block off the Main Street in the tiny downtown business area. She rented the main floor to businesses, mostly retail. Upstairs (which was reached by a long, steep, straight stairway) had three apartments. She rented the front and rear apartments and the family lived in the middle apartment. Grandma persevered. Sometimes I remember her happy and baking cookies. Sometimes I remember a sad, worried look in her eyes. I now think of her as brave.
This is a most amazing and beautiful share. Thank you! I love hearing about your exceptionally brave grandmother. There is more to this story…. thank you, thank you, keep sharing, keep writing…