Three new writers -- Bettina Bradbury, Elizabeth Swain and Lucille Santiago -- join regulars Leslie Rutkin and Lynda Myles for this issue. Purely by coincidence, all three have written stories about remarkable grandmothers who continue to have a profound influence on their lives.
Bettina Bradbury tells of the indomitable Anna McClure, her maternal grandmother, one of nine children from an impoverished mining family in Colorado. Elizabeth Swain conjures long-ago holidays she spent as a child in the English countryside with her lovably eccentric grandparents. Lucille Santiago, age 16, writes movingly and humorously about being raised by her grandma. In a separate piece she describes her perfect last visit with her troubled mother.
Leslie Rutkin relates the story of her courtship and early years of marriage through a series of vignettes about the couple's yearly pilgrimage to Tanglewood. And Lynda Myles shares a different kind of adventure with her daughter and a new friend, both breast cancer patients.
As usual, you can read the first paragraph of each story and click on "continue" to read the rest. Enjoy! (And if you feel like it, leave a message in the guest book to let us know you've been here.)
SEIJI OZAWA IS OLD
by Leslie Rutkin
Seiji Ozawa is
old. I just saw his photo in the times and I was shocked. His face is
lined and his mop of hair, now gray, is sparse. I had no idea that he
had aged along with the rest of us. Seiji Ozawa was the first orchestra
conductor that I felt a kinship with. Yes there was Lenny Bernstein,
but unfortunately I never saw him conduct in person. Ozawa was always
there, every summer, when Matthew and I went to Tanglewood in the
Berkshire mountains of Massachusetts. He was raven haired and slim with
amazing energy; he swooped, he cajoled, he beckoned with a firm baton.
Now he is pulling out of concerts because of a chronic bad back
problem. Perhaps he still has the energy of youth. But he looks tired
in the newspaper photo...
MY ENGLISH GRANDPARENTS
Leicester Nana, so named as that was where she lived in the East Midlands of England, was my father’s mother. His father had died when he was eight and Nana now lived with a daughter, Auntie Kathleen. When I visited I had to be on my best behavior. There were rules to be observed and manners were very important. But I was spoiled too...
MY GRANDMA -
BORN IN SEPIA... DIED IN LIVING COLOR
by Bettina Bradbury
-- L.P. Hartley
"Grow up and be somebody." My grandma's mantra. Life was a serious matter. The proof is revealed in a stark, sepia-toned photo of my grandma taken with her sisters circa 1912. The girls are posed before a shutterbox camera, facing the photographer, who in those days would have been holding aloft a tray filled with some kind of fiery powder, and at the same time, coaxing them to "smile for the birdie.” The sisters ranged from 13 to 19 in age, and smiling was not the fashion. Even with the Houdini powder, the exposure must take almost a minute. Time enough for the sisters to reflect on how hard life in this sepia-colored world is for them and their family. For all the families they know...
| TWO by Lucille Santiago |
A VISIT WITH MY MOTHER
I
didn’t grow up living with my mother, so the times I spent with her,
whether they were good or bad, meant a lot to me. There’s something you
have to understand about my mother – there was no in between with her.
There was either good or bad, and you weren’t always sure what you were
going to get. Because of this, the time between our visits varied. It
had been about three weeks since I had last seen her...
Continued...
| Life with Grandma |
Sometimes the most important people in our lives are the people that may not always be the easiest to be in a relationship with. For me that person is my grandma. My grandmother isn’t like most people’s grandparents. She’s my guardian, and without her I’m not sure where I would be today. She doesn’t have the luxury of being a grandmother who can spoil me and indulge me and then leave the hard part of raising me to my parents – she’s got me 24/7...
ININ PRAISE OF YES
