Today marks 18 years that I’ve lived without my Grandmother.
She kept me rooted with sound advice like “mind your own bee’s wax” and “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”
She drilled into me the idea that you always pay your debts first then buy things you need, if there’s anything left, buy the things you want.
Save for a rainy day.
Stock up when things are on sale.
Keep your pantry full.
She encouraged me to branch out. She & Grandpa helped me find and pay for my first car. When I moved out on my own, she was there to help. But always allowing me the space to pay her back-earning my own way, not charity. I never felt deprived but I had to make hard choices sometimes.
Good life lessons.
Blessed memory.
Around here (all over Alaska) you’ll hear someone define how Alaskan they are by how long they’ve (or their family) resided here. From there, if more evidence of their Alaskan acumen is needed, they’ll list their experiences especially the near death ones. The more rugged and raw the experience the greater the Alaskan Spirit. There must be an obligatory bear story, it’s a prerequisite.
We can’t help it. It’s like a giant game of one-upmanship. Until we find that Old Soul who embodies the spirit of Alaska. But it’s a celebratory game, we stand in awe of those who’ve survived whatever Alaska had to throw at them.
Most new Alaskans that I run into, like myself, have a relatively short pedigree. And sadly, we differ in that their quest for Alaskan experience is a tad bit lacking (non-exist). Occasionally I run across that special newcomer who wants to try all the Alaskan things, but they are increasingly rare. Maybe I need to meet some different new Alaskans.
But life for us “imports” goes further back than when we crossed the state line. When you meet a new Alaskan the first thing you ask is where they came from. Pay close attention to their answer. Generally one uses this litmus to determine how long you think this current “Alaskan” will stick around.
Beyond my current employment of becoming more Alaskan, I’ve been spending a fair amount of time exploring my family’s roots, seeing where my people haled from. What roads – oceans ultimately brought me to this point. It’s been fairly enlightening. Modern technology makes tracing your lineage so much easier than just 50 years ago. Even without a genetic test.
Much of this work has already been done for me, I get to enjoy the fruits of my ancestors labor. I’m thankful that they had the foresight to search and record our family history. My maternal Grandmother’s side is quite well documented thanks to books published like H. H. Beeson’s book on our genealogy. And the fact that many of my very early ancestors were Quakers. Those Quakers kept excellent records! This gives us ample data to reconstruct our tree.
Websites like My heritage.com, Ancestry and countless others provide a plethora of info and simultaneously profit handsomely from folks like me searching the forest for our trees. So many relatives adding family information makes it even more simple. And it’s fun to discover you have a a previously unknown third cousin twice removed doing the same thing as you are.
My Dad’s side is a little is a little more work. But it’s there, just gotta know where to look. Determination, it’s hereditary.
At this point I know 14 generations back to England and Holland on my Grandmother’s surname branch. It’s amazing to see the names and dates of my ancestors, some of which we share. I particularly like it when a letter or note was written, you can get a glimpse of their existence through their words & experiences. Like many family’s from the early American years, my people were determined and hardy souls. I’m thankful they passed a little bit of that down to me.
Most of us want to know where we came from. Some of us get the privilege of finding out. The past offers encouragement for the future. And it reminds us to make our existence here count.
So while I strive on with being a good Alaskan, mother, friend, daughter, sister, partner, employee and human I hear an echo in the distance… What will your life story tell?
My cousin by marriage, Dana, of blessed memory, was a petite, sweet, fiery, passionate woman who shared many of my own likes & dislikes. We were the same age as well. We lived far apart but whenever we were together there was no shortage of conversation.
Today she would be 50 years young.
She passed 15 days after her 38th birthday, far too young.
I’d like the memory of me to be a happy one. I’d like to leave an afterglow of smiles when life is done. I’d like to leave an echo whispering softly down the ways. Of happy times and laughing times and bright and sunny days. I’d like the tears of those who grieve, to dry before the sun; of happy memories that I leave when life is done. ~Afterglow, Anonymous.
Somewhere around this time, half a century ago, my existence in this realm began. Newlyweds and Valentine’s Day and all…
This being a milestone year I’ve been thinking a lot lately about things like accomplishments, unfinished business and future things. Thinky things.
I like to think about this being the time that my parents were happy.
It was the only time, so far, that I’ve been to Canada. And with Canada’s draconian behaviour of late, I’m not planning on going again.
I was born in the snow and cold. (Well not literally, like my mom was inside the hospital.) But is that why I’ve always loved the snow? Is there a genetic reason why I love the snow? A geographical one? Or just a generic one?
I loved the mountains, even before I ever saw them in person. They were the subject of many of my juvenile drawings and again in my adult art class experience with Beverly years later. Mountains with pine trees with a log cabin. I need to live near them.
Is all of this coincidence?
I’ve been on a health kick recently. Which has been building for quite some time. Trying to improve my overall feeling of wellness, increased energy, etc. They all say everything is harder to do after 50, so… Best get to it!
This phase of life has me seeing my first born graduating highschool and eventually moving out on her own. Of course I knew this day would come. I’ve tried teaching her all necessary skills and instilling what wisdom I have to impart. And yet I find myself wondering how we got here, quite so fast. It’s hard for me to imagine daily life without her right here, with me, in my house. At the same time I’m looking forward to having an adult child to experience life with. I’m excited for her and all the new things she will get to experience.
Then the second one will follow in a few years… And before I know it, they all will be out in the big world on their own. Whatever will I do with myself?
Oh, I have plenty of ideas.
But I’ll think about that tomorrow. Along with those other inevitable things I don’t want to think about right now.
So thanks to my Mom & Dad for giving me life. Thanks to G-d for bringing me to this season, and with HaShem’s help, I’ll get through it.
Seventeen years gone now.
Alaska on my mind... 