sentimental journey home

today my beautiful grandmother elsie turned 82 years old. I didn't wish her a happy birthday in person.... but I did many times in my heart. she has a way of permeating my life at times that are almost frightening poignant. this weekend I took my first trip to the apostle islands. my traveling companion spent the summers of his childhood on sand island. his family had a house there... but I am getting ahead of myself.

so... on the first leg of my journey this weekend (to stop in Duluth) ... I opened up the glove box of my car... to organize it... to pass the time... this being one of the first times I was a passenger in my own vehicle... and there... in the bottom... was a black leather journal with a brass lock... my grandfather had given me many months ago. I had put it there for safe-keeping... and just like my grandmother would frequently do... I had forgotten I put it there at all. I spent the rest of the drive reading the pages... the journal was from 1951-1955... and the tid bits of my grandma's life I found there almost made me cry.... because of how I realize.... yet again.... the similarities between us. her entries were usually just a few lines... but she recounts things like... the movies she went to... her work at the radio station.... a Halloween party.... one entry about how her dad was in the hospital... and then the next night all she wrote was.... dad home from the hospital today... I love him... I closed it after that one... and turned to paul and said... I have to stop or I am going to start crying... you would've loved her... she was amazing... I feel weird when I tell people that. it doesn't seem like it can do her justice. she was one of those people that you just had to meet. saying she was great just makes her sound like something simple. a good movie... or your favorite food.... but she was one of those ladies that just oozes with personality and love and words....

paul had asked me earlier this week where I normally stay when I go to Duluth... and the only thing I could remember were my trips with my grandparents for horseshoe tournaments.... we stayed in little cabins along the northern part of Duluth.... and I kept thinking of this photo of my grandparents on their honeymoon.... in one of those cabins....

I felt compelled to tell paul about my grandma and her life... and of course her train trips came to mind... in those days she was working at the radio station... and she went on many trips around the country with her friends. I wish now that I could talk to her about that. after she was married... she subscribed to travel magazines from around the country... I never thought much of that until later on. I think she had a yearning to travel more. Arizona highways... there were stacks of those in the upstairs bedroom.... I have a hard time making a cohesive paragraph when I start to talk about all of the thoughts and feelings surrounding my grandmother.... but the one that is at the top of all of that... is that I wish so badly I had been older when I was 5. I wish I could talk to her now... as if it was 30 years ago. because I think she would love to hear about my life... and I know I would love to hear about hers.... she tried to tell me many things. but I was very young... I know that I have always been old for my age. but I wish I was older. so that I would've done a better job of telling her I understood her. anyway.... onward... paul and I stayed in bayfield with his aunt... and over breakfast she pulled out a coffee mug.... and on the front was Elsie... the borden milk cow. and again in my head I heard my grandmother.... telling me how much she hated her name.... and her middle name.... worse.... because when she was a girl.... elsie... was the poster child for the borden milk company.... I love the name elsie. and for a few minutes over breakfast I could see her hovering over the breakfast proceedings.... as she always did in her own house... making sure everything was just so. us all sitting around the table begging her to sit down and eat.

I have a sweater. it's blue... and bulky... and not all that wonderful... but I can't part with it. because it's the last thing I can remember my grandmother complimenting me on. she said.... oh Jennifer... that's such a beautiful sweater... it's the color of your eyes.... she was ready with a compliment... always.... and they were unsolicited and honest.

this weekend was full of time with someone else's family. and I enjoyed it very much. the thing I keep learning is that family is family. and in the end we all have this common bond... once in a while there is someone in your family that you really connect with. and that is a beautiful and lucky thing.... but even the people you don't feel that strange closeness too... still are close to you in a way that only a family member can be. it's hard to deny DNA. I can see myself in people on both sides of my family... and it makes me feel normal. it makes me feel calm.... it makes me feel like time is something vague and mysterious. 1932 wasn't all that long ago. and a personality... the inherent traits of a soul... seem timeless to me. I like that. it gives me comfort. I think if my grandmother were 34 today.... she would be a lot like me. I hold her in high regard.... so I will admit that she would probably be a better version of me... but I know we would be friends.

one of the last times she and I went out for coffee... which we did quite often... I picked her up at home. she was quite confused by this point... and I had to keep reminding her of her life... how many kids she had.... where she lived... who I was... but the one thing I remember most about that day was that she was convinced that we were pals. that she was in her 20s... just like me... and we were on an outing. it made me sad then. and scared. but now.... it makes me really happy. because that's how I feel too. and I like that when she was in a state of chaos in her own mind... she thought of me as her friend.

I am not the most religious person. although I spent most of my childhood deep in the Lutheran church. my grandmother was a devout Christian... and had prayer books and a bible in the sliding shelf on her headboard.... she was perhaps the most religious person I know. or have ever known. but I do have a theory about life and death. I believe that the human spirit is a powerful thing. it is an energy that can be given away. you live your life... when you are quite young you have the most energy.... you give it away to people in the form of service.... smiles... kindness... devotion... the more you give away... the less you have for yourself.... maybe that sounds crazy.... but it makes sense to me.

I like to think that elsie gave me a whole lot of her spirit. and she lives on in me. I hope she can understand why I didn't wish her a happy birthday today in person... but the truth is... I know she does. we have something between us that I don't know if anyone else can understand. I love her and if I can be half as kind and half as full of life as she was... I will be a very lucky woman.