Good-Bye Grandpa

Today’s challenge at d’Verse Poets was to write a poem illustrating a beautiful sadness.  You can visit the d’Verse Poets site for a great explanation.

For some reason this challenge seems to fit my mood perfectly right now.  Still I chose to look back in time to recount a memory.  I admit I did take poetic license because the ending was actually delayed by several months due to people entering the room.  Still, it was one of the most beautiful and peaceful moments I’ve ever experienced before it was interrupted.

Arnold Perin

Good-bye Grandpa.

I gaze at your wrinkled

countenance as you recall the

days of your youth:

a spelling bee won, playing piano,

fishing at the lake, and

cleaning the chicken coop.

Clearly your mind is strong.

Each line in the face earned

through a lifetime of experiences,

but it’s time to shed this world.

***

Good-bye Grandpa.

I hold your giant hand,

rough-worn and arthritic.

Hands that were used

to wield tools, cut wood,

and build new homes.

A carpenter’s hands that

lost their strength and

need help to lift a glass

for a sip of water.

***

Arnold Perin with his wife Helen and kids James and Judy

Good-bye Grandpa.

I sit beside you

in the presence of angels,

those who journeyed before

wait to greet you

with loving arms.

Your parents waiting again

to greet you as you rejoin them.

I lift my face to feel

their amazing presence

and am comforted that

you leave family to

join family.

***

George and Carrie (Plumb) Perin with their son Arnold

Good-bye Grandpa.

I let you fade away

with peace in my heart.

Your eyes already say

you’ve joined your loved ones

on another plane; still,

I hold your hand and

wait for its warmth to dissipate.

Knowing good-bye

is only

temporary.

Looking Back

Digging through the rock

Uncovering the bare bones

Looking for the past

I hunt for where I come from.

Ancestors’ ghosts appear on my face:

Grandmother’s nose;

Great Uncle Charlie’s chin;

A laugh comes bubbling out

that sounds just like Aunt Ethel.

I treasure these gifts from those

already gone.

But why oh why did I have to

get those bow legs from Grandpa?

Linking to dVerse Poet‘s open mic night.

Remarkable Women

I seem to be reflective lately.  I remember my ancestors and think about the hardships and trials they endured.  The family skeletons come out from the closet when you start talking to the older generations–alcohol, abuse, lost children, young widows.  I celebrate my genealogy, both the good and the bad.  Usually the bad reveals what remarkable women I have in my background.

I am grateful for the generosity of others that have given me these family pictures.

Mary Alice Walker Smith and daughters Ella (seated), Bernice and Leah

 

Edith Cowan Overman

Ethel Smith Nady

Mary Jane Thomas Walker

Bishop Family–Front:  Cora, William, Abigail (Brock), Earl

Back: Minnie, Audrey

***

I realize this is pretty personal, but if you like remarkable women my previous post also honors remarkable women.  Be sure t0 visit Ms. Matlock for more Alphabe-Thursday R posts.

Missouri, 1907

She bore the burden of taunts with grace;

after all it was her own fault.

As she walked home and heard another

whisper of “hussy” shouted her way,

Audrey reached a protective hand

towards the baby growing inside her.

She thought back seven months to

the night her life changed so dramatically.

She had been walking home after the social,

only then it had been bitterly cold.

She thought how lucky she was

when her neighbor pulled up with his buggy.

“Hop up.  The horses are used to stopping at your house.

How’s your pa?”

Gratefully, she climbed up to the seat.

She had been so cold,

and when he offered his arm around her

it was warm and safe.

She should have known better than to act in such a way–

ladies do not act in a manner

to tempt a man to lustful thoughts.

That’s what she had done–

“Tempt a married man, a good man.  How could she?”

That’s what he had said when she finished crying,

and he returned her to her family.

Later when she realized that she carried his baby,

she determined to correct her mistake.

She would deliver this baby without a mention of his name.

She alone would suffer from such shame.

It’s the least she could do for being such a temptress–

gracefully she would bear her burden.

When her family demanded to know who she’d been with,

she sat quietly.

When the minister spoke to her of repenting and confessing,

she sat quietly.

When the neighbor’s wife now passed her on the street

and whispered harlot, she walked on quietly.

Soon she would quietly give birth without family celebration

and name her daughter Grace.

This week’s topic for the Monday Poetry Potluck is romance.  I don’t do romance.  Instead, I’ve looked into my family history to my great-great aunt.  All I know is that she gave birth out of wedlock in 1907 at the age of 17.  In all my genealogical research, I’ve learned that a couple’s first baby can come as soon as three months after the wedding and it is normal.  It’s only with the second baby that it requires a full nine months to develop.  Because of her age and because she did not marry, I can only assume the father of her child was someone who took advantage of her.  At this time, however, she bore the sole burden for her situation, and her own family even whispered about her.  It’s finally time we stopped holding her accountable for being taken advantage of.

The Brethren

Down by the river

we gather for baptism

Our faith to God we proclaim

by our dunking in the water

Our austere code of dress

allows our love of God to shine

No jewelry to detract or

announce a bond to humankind

Our true marriage is to the Divine

our home forever will be in Heaven

**********

This poem is to honor the significant number of my ancestors who belonged to the Church of the Brethren.  This group was also known as Friends or Dunkards, because of their ritual of baptism by dunking.  Historically, the Brethren were against slavery and war.  They were tolerant of other groups, but it was easy to be cast out from their own community if they did not follow the strict code of conduct.  Women wore a cap to church that my grandmother told me was called a “dunking cap.”  This one belonged to my grandmother’s grandmother.  It is basically a fine net skull cap.

Dora Cadwallader Milleson's dunking cap

Jewelry was forbidden, including wedding rings.  My great-grandmother did not get a wedding ring until after she and her husband moved away from their families.  She could, however, wear the watch around her neck.

Carl and Anna (Van Dusseldorp) Milleson's wedding picture

Although they left the Church of the Brethren, they remained devoutly religious throughout their lives.

My mother’s family also had a line that were Friends.

Mary Jane (Thomas) and Charles Walker

My mother’s grandmother left the Friends’ church when she married her husband, whose family was Methodist.