Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Grandmothers

The summer I was sixteen, my cousin Ellen and I spent a month with our Longton grandparents in upstate NY. I remember making my way downstairs from our attic bedroom that my grandmother had very carefully set up for us, into the kitchen for breakfast and finding my tiny grandmother in a leotard, upside down in a headstand.

Lunch at Wykeham Arms, Winchester.

As I recall, she did this for a half an hour every day.

I didn't think she was amazing, I mostly thought she was weird and annoying.

My mother can do a headstand also. I think it's quite a feat now that I'm 44, and I imagine that if I make it to 72 I will think it is fucking awesome.

Piggy back riding in London.

Toni gives amazing piggy back rides. First of all, she has hips that don't quit. Second of all, she is strong and feels solid. She gave me a great one a few years ago in San Francisco, up a serious flight of stairs. A diminutive foreigner stopped us, obviously needing to document this oddity.


Bubbe (that is her Grandma name) is a stickler for grammar. In the above photo she is explaining adverbs to five year old Dominic. No joke. She has tried on several occasions to exorcise the word "like" from her grand children's vocab. The last one I recall was having them pay her 25 cents every time they used the hated word. I think she might have tried harder to get me to stop saying it, because I, like, say it, like, all the time!

In front of Jane Austen memorial, Winchester Cathedral.

My grandparents and their antepasados seemed to care a lot about grammar and spoken language. We were not allowed to use the word "bellybutton" around my great grandmother Katter. Umbilicus was the preferred word. I clearly remember having anxiety about offending her with our words. I wondered what would happen if she heard the word "bellybutton"... (I want to add that knowing the word 'umbilicus' in the 2nd grade was fantastic, I loved to torture fellow youngsters by telling them their umbilicus was showing.)

Music night dinner.

When my mom was visiting in March I thought a lot about my great grandmother Katter (Bubbe's mother's mother), and her remarkable life. She lost her husband to "consumption" in her 20's, leaving her with three small children and a farm. In her extreme distress and depression she attempted to end her life, and was hospitalized in a mental institution. After she was released, she returned to the small town of Garner, Iowa, raised and educated her three daughters, and ran for and held a public office. She lived as a widow for 70 years.

Golden Retriever!

I really hope there is a heaven, because I want to see my grandparents again, and chat with them, and ask them questions. I want to hang out with my dad and listen to him tell stories and talk about the boring things that interest him. And I want to see my great grandmother and tell her I am so sorry she lost her beloved husband and that she lived through such extreme distress and pain. Generations later her great grandchildren carry her story and a very little bit of her pain.

Music night dinner.

But I am scared to chat her up, because I have trouble expressing myself with my mouth. I will, like, say like a lot, or end a sentence with a preposition, or some other horror.


But it has occurred to me...some people believe that in heaven we are made whole, as God has intended. In the after life we might be relieved of our mental illnesses, physical ailments, grey hair, skin tags and pimples. And hopefully, our grammar may be washed clean and healed of all errors.

Come on heaven!

Family Tree by Dominic
Featuring Dad, Brother (William), Anna and Dominic

So in March, Bubbe and I headed up north to visit the church where our Harlan relatives were last baptised before leaving England for good.

On our way!
"Cartrina", our navigational system (called a sat nav here) showed us the way. Our first stop was Norwich, Norfolk, the home town of Julian of Norwich, a 14th century christian mystic. When she was 30 years old Julian experienced a severe illness. A priest came to attend her death, and held a cross before her and asked her to draw comfort from the likeness of her Maker and Savior. She described that all was dark as night but a ray of light illuminated the figure on the cross. She then experienced visions and revelations of the passion of Christ and the love of God.


After she recovered, she became an anchorite and lived walled into a cell attached to the church for at least 40 years. She wrote about her visions and was the first woman to write a book in the English language, The Revelations of Divine Love.



We attended Vespers and Mass at the site of her original cell, which has been enlarged and rebuilt, after being torn down in the reformation. It was an intimate gathering of 12 people. I loved being in the space where Julian lived and prayed, another dream come true for me.



Julian wrote that God has forgiven us before we have repented or even sinned, and we need only to reach out and take that forgiveness into ourselves. In all-gracious God there is and can be no wrath. The wrath is in us and God's saving work is to quench our wrath in the power of all-compassionate love. We never need to fear sharing our dark side with God, for only pity and compassion are there to meet it. She wrote that we can spoil everything by persistent self blame, which is the fruit of pride and not an indication of humility. We must forgive ourselves even as God has forgiven us, and give up our senseless worrying and faithless fear.


She also wrote extensively that Jesus is our mother, and expressed many aspects of God in terms of motherhood and the feminine.

"All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."

My mother was generous and loving and indulged my obsession, despite her agnostic bones.

After venerating Julian we drove the next day to venerate Blickling Hall.



Anne Boleyn may or may not have been born here...her two older sibs probably were. This was the family home until the family moved to Hever Castle in Kent around 1507.


It is said that every year, on the anniversary of her execution, Anne Boleyn's headless ghost arrives at Blickling Hall in a carriage driven by a headless coachman.  The ghost carries her head under her arm. Blicking Hall is said to be the most haunted property in the United Kingdom.



We saw no ghosties, however, we learned a new word. Have you ever heard of a sitooterie? I had never. It is from Scottish and indicates a place to "sit oot in". (If you enjoy language, hit the link on the word for fun [Nin and Janet, this means you!].)

Blickling Hall sitooterie
 The house was rebuilt in 1620. It now belongs to the National Trust and is filled with lots of stuff. It is a great place to visit. You get a real feel for the lifestyle of the inhabitants. I loved that we could visit the kitchen.








Wasp catcher

The highlight of Blickling Hall was the library.



Notice my crazed expression in the following photo.


I want to point out that as the maker of this blog I can choose the fabulousest photos of myself. But this one just HAD to be included. The reason for the lunacy was this:

By a lady.

and this


and this!!!



Three first edition Jane Austen novels, purchased in her lifetime by Lady Suffield who lived in Blickling Hall in the late 18th - early 19th centuries. They are signed Caroline Suffield. I was so excited, I think I scared the librarian, who is working to catalogue the 12,000 volumes in the library. It will take him 10 years to complete the catalogue, and he's been at it one year so far.

From Blickling Hall we drove up north, 60 miles south of Hadrian's Wall to the home town of the Harlands, who left England in the 1600's for adventures in the colonies. Stay tuned for a story about a very chatty Englishman.

1 comment:

  1. What a great trip! I love those Austen stories, but mainly in film version. I'm such a heathen.

    ReplyDelete