When you love someone, you want to know everything about them. That someone, in this case, was my maternal grandmother. We shared a close bond, but there was a wrinkle on the face-map of her life that I could not trace. I wish I had asked her my questions while she was still with me.
Interviewing relatives would, I hoped, complete my connection to this woman I dearly loved, and terribly missed. But to find the remaining pieces, I did what writers do best—research in order to build a world.
So like the hummingbird that can fly backward, I went back in time to Grandma’s world.
Historical records, genealogies, news media archives, the library, and the internet supplied a wealth of factual information. But it was the literature of my grandmother’s generation that proved invaluable. These books transformed into photo albums before my eyes, showing me beginnings, goals accomplished and milestones reached: footprints on the path of life. Preserved intact on the pages of novels and poems were the tears, sorrows, dreams, humiliations, and losses of real people; experiences true to their time and place.
Stories, I realized, are essential to our lives. They preserve the knowledge of who we are. They alone have the power to travel unfettered bridging cultural gaps, producing empathy, and transforming strangers into friends. Stories too serve as mirrors. By them, we view and measure our growth and change, or lack thereof.
I started out seeking missing facts about my grandmother’s life. I found so much more: a living reminder of the hopes and sacrifices of my ancestors that paved the way for me to be born happy, healthy and free. Lives and experiences that I want to always remember and never forget.
May these novels and poems never pass away for my Granny lives enshrined therein forever.
See you next time on August 22nd.
Veronica Jorge
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Anniversaries are festive occasions marking milestones and accomplishments. We recount experiences and memories; some sad, but hopefully mostly joyful. We celebrate the depth and richness of our shared lives.
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Every once in a while I daydream about what it would be like to meet some famous individual from the past. And if I did meet them, what would I say? Once we’d get past the introductions, nice to meet you; how’s the weather?, and other such polite niceties, what would I ask them or talk about? Maybe I’d freeze and my mind would go blank transforming me into a banal idiot.
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Hopes and wishes: the stuff that dreams are made of. Remember hoping for the dream boat prom date? Remember hoping for your dream job? How many times have you wished upon a star with all of your heart for something that you truly desired to come true? Or wished that you could slide down the rainbow tasting all of the colors along the ride, and then discover the wonderful world waiting for you at the end?
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In my March 22nd post, As Young As Spring, I mentioned several nature themed books. Today, I’d like to offer a review of one of those titles.
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Don’t spend money on green drinks, wrinkle creams, and hair dyes to take out the grey. It’s Springtime. Immerse yourself in nature and rejuvenate!
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I love reading historical fiction. You’re right about how the context of the times during which people live comes most powerfully to us through stories. Another thoughtful post. Thank you.
Thank you, Neetu. It’s also like your poetry that reveal the depth of the heart and emotions. Looking forward to reading your next post.