My Grandma Emma and my Grandpa John
Grandma Emma and Grandpa John were tough frontier/northern Minnesota people. They had a small farm and on that farm they provided sustenance for themselves as well as six children. Their house was poorly insulated yet kept warm with hot fires in the wood stove. Grandma cooked and baked on a wood stove. My aunts told loving stories...and believe me they were loving stories...of frosty cold bedrooms and scampering down the stairs to the stove heated kitchen. Since they were farm people they raised and canned all of their own produce. The kids that became my aunts and uncles lived well...and felt sheltered and loved by Emma and John. My aunts and uncles were strong people and it is my firm belief that Grandma and Grandpa instilled in them that strength.
Strangely, I remember Grandpa John. The reason I say strangely is that he had died before I was born...yet I remember him. As a child I remember telling my mother about him and her gently responding that it was impossible. Yet I knew him and remembered him. Maybe Grandpa John's and my energies engaged with each other was we both transitioned...he transitioning to the next stage of existence as I was transitioning to my stage of existence on this earth. This thing we call life...this thing we call time...are both so fluid.
And I have so many fond memories of Grandma Emma. Also I have a few funny stories that I will talk about on a future posting. The intent today was to post this picture...the only picture I am aware of that is of both of them.
In many ways we are the culmination of those that came before us. Their blood runs in our veins. Their lives have been handed down to us by our parents in two ways. First via the character that they instilled in our parents. Second, in the stories and memories that we not only shared with them and about them but also in the stories and memories that have been told to us.
Yes, Grandma Emma and Grandpa John, both of you are a strong vibrant thread in the fabric of my life.
~Wylddane
Strangely, I remember Grandpa John. The reason I say strangely is that he had died before I was born...yet I remember him. As a child I remember telling my mother about him and her gently responding that it was impossible. Yet I knew him and remembered him. Maybe Grandpa John's and my energies engaged with each other was we both transitioned...he transitioning to the next stage of existence as I was transitioning to my stage of existence on this earth. This thing we call life...this thing we call time...are both so fluid.
And I have so many fond memories of Grandma Emma. Also I have a few funny stories that I will talk about on a future posting. The intent today was to post this picture...the only picture I am aware of that is of both of them.
In many ways we are the culmination of those that came before us. Their blood runs in our veins. Their lives have been handed down to us by our parents in two ways. First via the character that they instilled in our parents. Second, in the stories and memories that we not only shared with them and about them but also in the stories and memories that have been told to us.
Yes, Grandma Emma and Grandpa John, both of you are a strong vibrant thread in the fabric of my life.
~Wylddane
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