The Third Generation

Meme was Mom's mom. She always had a smile on her face and a fantastic outlook on life. I don't know much about her childhood except that she lost her father at a very young age and her older sister, Nellie, had a twin that didn't make it. Her mother, who my mother always referred to as "Nanny Ainsworth", was very proper, attending afternoon tea daily. In her youth, Meme was the dream of every young man in our small upstate New York town. She married my Grandfather and had her first child at 16. Her second at 18. Her third at 20. She was a beautiful brilliant young woman and that was not the life she had planned for herself, so at 22, she left that life--husband, children and family--and moved from nowhere in upstate NY to her new sunshiny life in south Florida. Leaving behind her, devastation to all in her wake--but she would not be held down.

Meme had no regrets. She always held her head up high with her sights focused forward. Never looking back. Never looking down.

My mother has always been much the same way. I do know about her childhood and it was horrible by any standards--complete with abandonment, followed by wicked stepmother and stepsisters, alcoholic, abusive father then abusive, mentally ill husband. Did I mention poor? I mean, depths-of-despair-poor. No running water, no new clothes or shoes for school or ever, no running water... Whew! But...she always had a smile on her face and a song in her voice. She studied hard in school. She always held her head up and focused toward the future. She never looked back. She never looked down. She never dwelled.

I am the third generation. I always have a smile on my face--well, almost always. I keep my head held high--most of the time. I try to forget the past and look to the future. I guess sometimes I dwell. But mostly I try to see my past as learning, strength, hope, faith and the rocks that give my brook music.

Jen ;-)

Yia Yia

Yia Yia is the Greek word for Grandma. Sometime on or around February 22, 2010 I will be a Yia Yia to a sweet new gift in Florida. No, I am not Greek but my daughter has married a wonderful Greek man from a wonderful Greek family so my grandchild will be Greek. I wonder what the opposite of a rock in my brook would be...Maybe a strong current? Or a school of fast-swimming fish? Or maybe a downward slope. Whatever it is, I seem to have many of them of late. So much so that I have begun a "Gratitude Journal." In this journal I write each day (sometimes several times a day--whenever the feeling strikes me) everything for which I am grateful. My heart is so full every time I open or close that book. Grab a notebook or a journal with a happy illustration and start writing. You'll be surprised how many wonderful things are bestowed upon you all the time--the more you write, the more you notice. Just try it and see how warm and happy it makes you feel--you'll be hooked!
Jen;-)

My First Rock

College taught me so much more than curriculum. It gave me insight into my being and my family's opinions of such. Much to my siblings' delight I often refer to myself as a dingle-berry attached to my mother's backside. I do this because my mother has never pretended to be happy about my coming to be. I am simply an unpleasant appendage, if you will, of which she cannot rid herself (maybe I should send her some wet wipes?) She reminded me time and again throughout my childhood that when she became pregnant for me her youngest was about to begin kindergarten and she was not happy about starting over with a new baby. She was never mean to me, she just usually denied my presence--as did my three older siblings. My father always seemed smitten by my presence but, hell, he was crazy. No, really, bi-polar, hiding-in-closets crazy.

So early on in college I was given an assignment for one of my child development courses in which I was to write an "infant autobiography." This was basically a chronicle of my mother's pregnancy and my first year of life. I was going to have to ask mom for this information. I was intrigued but also a bit nervous. Mom has always been a woman of few words when it comes to any kind of feelings or memories. As it happened there was no need to be nervous or intrigued as she told me what I already knew; she just put it in such a way as to drive the point home (she's always been very good at this--short and to the point). Her sole asnwer to my query for information, "If abortion was legal, you wouldn't be here."

Turns out the first rock in my brook was in place as I divided into cells forming the body that would house my very old soul. There was barely enough water to maneuver that one, so I became the trout finding the only life sustaining water in a dried up stream, then using that water to push past my new life's very first obstacle.
Jen;-)

Introduction to Title

Sitting on the huge back deck of Meme's (my maternal grandmother) breathtaking home, I often read the quote she had engraved in wood above the rambling creek: "If the rocks were removed, the brook would have no music". I would sit and think about how different that creek would be with no rocks. Would I hear the water moving with nothing standing in its way? That quote always stuck with me.

Then I went to college and majored in English where I learned about one thing representing another in literature. Ever notice how it's raining in the climactic scene of almost every movie made? Remember the TLC song "Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls"? Water signifies life--all that it is, gives us, takes from us... For instance, a lot of water such as a waterfall or heavy rain, would be major life experiences (good and bad), whereas TLC's 'rivers and lakes' and light rainshowers would be everyday life or minor experiences (good and bad). Then there are obstacles that life throws at us--those are the rocks in the streams, creeks, rivers that life must make its way around to continue on.

Meme's quote took on a whole new meaning to me. As an adult who has made it through life having to maneuver around some very large rocks (boulders, often), this quote became my life's theme. Because I believe that the person I've become, the music that I am, is due to the rocks that have been thrown, placed or rolled into my brook. Ever notice how boring people are who have had no real unpleasant experiences in their life? I'm truly grateful for my rock-filled brook!
Jen ;-)