My cousin’s Facebook wall today had a photograph of my grandmother. The images invoked memories of my grandmother’s ritual of blowing me kisses through the phone after ending our telephone conversation; the figure of her looking into my eyes and seeing the simple pleasures of her smile still resonate with me. My blog today celebrates my paternal grandmother on her ninety sixth birthday. The role she had in all our lives and shared with all of us (family, friends, and well -wishers) is palpable. I recall the first time she met my husband the look in her eyes and the salutation ‘my grandson’ as if he had cometh forth from her loins. Today I remember the words, the conversations that my grandmother and I have had over the years publicly or in our private ‘whispering-galleries.’ These times are still clearly heard and held for posterity. I am blessed to have known her. I can truly savor my thoughts … now with a sweet maturity and authentic tenderness.
The simple pleasures of her smile
In her eyes
Pierced through
Pieced together
Salvaged family moments
Succinct whispers
Atavistic instincts
Enraptured in her beauty
The years weaved her story
Our memories
Memories – our treasured heirloom
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Poem Written by Brenda L. McCartney
Photographed by Sesame Ellis
Mother’s day is bitter sweet for some as there is a melancholy because of the loss of her. It is an overwhelming experience for some because our children did not get to cherish her as a grandmother. What we owe to them is incalculable.
Like diamonds on sunlit oceans
They gave themselves
Contemplative wisdom
Boundaries of rigidity
Infinite in circumstances
-
Uncircumscribable richness
Details manifest in reflections
Intuitive mystery understood
Expression of carefree joy
-
Her eyes the gravitas of life
Melting of emotions
With the iron force of her will
She defines provision and selflessness
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An armor on her principles
Her vision stood only in black and white
Now -lasting impressions colored
Her spirit, her attitude inculcated
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Poem written by Brenda L. McCartney
- Photographed by Brenda L McCartney
I was driving around Great harbor Cay recently and I passed a bundle of wood on the side of the road. I reversed to take a photograph as it was pleasantly reminiscent of my youth. Back then we collected piles of wood in bundles such as this for my grandmother to burn inside the rock oven which provides heat for baking.
Acacia bundles laid
A speck of yellow freckle spouted
Richly illuminated reflection played
Ripe with emotion it clouted
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Re-dipping into childhood memories past
Fresh – the red earth seasoned in sunshine
Grandmother echoes get the pile fast
tramping thoughts not inclined to tag her line
-
She a Votary to the rock oven
I sounded her out
My intentions frozen
Held my convictions- I pout
-
She erupts in a flow
Cryptic motions crippled
I bolted on her toe
Graveled, she rippled
-
Intention conspired then constricted
Amazingly dodged the tamarind whip
Leaped around her self-inflicted
Set to it – commanded your Lordship
-
As torrents of tears burst
On bundles of acacia wood
Affluent thoughts immersed
In time all things understood
I grew up with my maternal grandparents. Life with my grandparents has taught me so many things. It has taught me the love of family, the importance of embracing others and most of all taking a stand for something I believe in. My grandparents were always there to encourage me by doing things such as showing up to my parent teachers meeting and selecting the company I kept.
“Grandparents are our continuing tie to the near-past, to the events and beliefs and experiences that so strongly affect our lives and the world around us.’ Today I make special mention of the lady that has mentored me on what would have been her eighty seventh birthday. To paraphrase the words Corinthians thanks be to God for the indescribable gift of a grandmother. Below is poem taken from my book LeAp dedicated to my mama.
Seven Stanzas from Mama
I
Bayside born
With seaside spray
Fishing, sewing
Playing every day in the sand
School days left happily
Married life brought foreign land
(Nevis then off to mother land)
Married life brought foreign land
All of which brought shop, bus, business and progeny
II
Smell the oven bread is baking
Sanka Coffee Breakfast making
Mountain calls foul awakes and cock crows
To the market we will go
Loaves for sale, prices low
Cassava , dasheen, pigeon peas, sweet potato make them grow
III
Early rising before dawn
Watch hog, sheep, and goat with horn
To the fields to graze
Off they go
Make sure in by six
Better lock the pen or get some licks
IV
Shop opens and they come
Milk, sausage, eggs sold one by one
Scoop the flour by the pound
Make sure drop none on the ground
Sweet oil, sugar cake, cheese and bread make sure cover
Salt fish, sold with onion if you buy one must buy the other
V
Raising children
Watch them grow, then grandchildren
Off they go
Making proud hearts stand tall
See what God has done for them all
Off they go
Off they go
VI
I will watch on though I go
Friends I will miss you so
Blood carries on with love
Through it all
Through the ashes and the storm
Wishing gladness every morn
Ever bright
Waking, walking singing with delight
VII
My descendents come do not cry
I have risen to the skies
To my Jesus Lord I come
All my work on earth is done
Water reflection
Mountain trees
Calming wind
And blowing breeze
Every time you see or hear
Remember me there.
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Poem taken from LeAp – A Collection of poems by Brenda L. McCartney
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