Saturday, May 11, 2019

Walking the Grandmother Path

My Grandma, Florence "Floss" Marr

My Mother, Renee Marr Baker


All the way back,
all the mothers and grandmothers
in my family had strong backs:
for bearing children
in tents and covered wagons,
for pushing back raw wilderness
to make a home,
for digging in unyielding soil
to feed their children,
some of whom survived.

Some of them were healers.
Some of them were Celtic crones,
who spoke with ghosts.
One of them fled the potato famine
and found herself in the deep freeze
of a prairie winter.
One of them rode across the prairie
on horseback
in hobbled skirts.
She caught
my grandfather's eye.

A long line of grandmothers
walked the grandmother path
before she
who walked here
before me.

In my past are warrior women,
mystics and dreamweavers,
witches and nuns,
women sitting in Council
and governing.

Somewhere back there,
once women's spirits flew.
Somewhere back there
our souls clawed their way
out of bondage
and raised awakened eyes 
to the sky.

Now I walk
the grandmother path
in memory of the long line 
of strong women
who walked here before me,
and in honour of the long line 
of strong women
who will walk here after me,
in a passage of time that is timeless,
in a circle of love that is endless:
grandmother after grandmother,
footsteps walking in footsteps,
heart upon heart.

Wherever you come from,
a long line of strong women
survived the impossible
so that you might live.

Never forget,
"you come from the love
of thousands."







43 comments:

  1. You definitely are following right along with a long line of grandmothers in your family, Sherry. Your own grandmother must have been ONE strong woman. I love the photo of her with her horse!

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  2. Oh Sherry this is a glorious ode to the women in our lives that carry us through and lead the way! You are one of those strong women with a beautiful voice that will carry on and be heard by grand daughters and their grand children. I absolutely love this and the last stanza is a beautiful closing.

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  3. The final stanza is an energy-giving chant, especially after having read the grandmother's who came before that. I love the image of women with strong backs, walking with purpose, knowing all they must do in order to ready the path for the grandmothers to be.

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  4. Somewhere back there
    our souls clawed their way
    out of bondage
    and raised awakened eyes
    to the sky.

    just love this sherry - awaking eye to the sky...what a beautiful image...thank you and have a beautiful Mothers Day...bkm

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  5. This is beautiful and very moving Sherry!

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  6. Fabulous tribute and inspiration. Also love those pictures...beautiful.

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  7. I wonder why the UK has a different date for Mothers’ Day than everyone else. I so enjoy reading about other people’s mothers, their histories and stories, and your poem has satisfied my curiosity and interest, Sherry, as well as showing me a different kind of landscape. How amazing, to bear children in tents and covered wagons and travelling into the unknown to make a home. Most children these days would not appreciate the hardships mothers have been through. I love the alliteration and the images created in ‘Some of them were Celtic crones, who spoke with ghosts’ and ‘One of them rode across the prairie on horseback in hobbled skirts’ – no wonder she caught your grandfather's eye’!

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  8. It think its wonderful to have thatkind of ancestral lineage at your fingertip and in your heart. I knew only my paternal grandmother. my maternal grandmother had died before i was even born

    happy Mothers Day

    much love...

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  9. I was was very moved, but aldo left very empty from reading this powerful piece. Empty in that, bring orphaned at birth by being placed in an infant home for unwed mothers - I never experienced the depth and richness of authentic ancestors. I have nothing vonnevting me to a genuine past. It has always been a source of sorrow, anger, emptiness - much more so when I was younger. For some reason this poem put me acutely in touch with the intensity of those early feelings. Powerful piece here Sherry!

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    1. Rob I read your comment, and my heart is heavy. I was on the other side of the coin, we adopted my Son, and though we loved him with all of our hearts, I think he always felt as you. When he got sick, he did express to me what he felt, and I think he loved me and forgave me for not being his birth Mother. She was a child, only 13, it is understandable she had to give him up. I wish I could say it was all smooth sailing, still we loved him as our own, couldn't have loved another more. I hope it was that way for you, Rob.

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  10. I never knew my real mother, and it has a made a difference in my life. At 72 it still does. I have been told many times to get over it, I was eventually adopted they say, aren’t you lucky they say. Well sure - but not really. You ever get over not knowing the mother that gave you life, who was she, what was her situation, did she ever regret giving me away? Sorry, your poem here really struck an old, long quiet chord within me.

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    1. I am so sorry, Rob. What a painful beginning to life. What I know of those homes in the "old days" is that young teen moms were not allowed to keep their babies, the babies were removed from them, if family was not supportive (and few of them were in the days when "what the neighbours think" meant too much). I am sure it must have been very painful for her too, and she likely carried the pain lifelong, as you do. It is hard to not know one's lineage. Somewhere back there, there must have been a writer, though - that much we can assume. Smiles. Thank you for sharing your story, Rob. I hope the connections you have made in your life have helped, over time, to ease that inner ache.

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    2. I am fine and blessed in so many ways, and I have helped make and nurture a family that will continue into the future. My love for them, and theirs for me, is so wonderful and fulfilling. I do not feel “less than” because of my experience, just different than. It is a void in my very full life, it is not my life.

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    3. Yes, in our children we heal many wounds. I have seen the richness of your life in your poems. We travel far , thankfully, from our beginnings.

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  11. Growing up in WW2 I saw as a child the strength of women when men just weren't thereas so many were fighting in the war. It was a great education for me seeing them manage on their own and often doing what used to be men's jobs. Yet still the sexual divide exists.

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  12. This is an ode to girl- power, if ever there was one. It's wonderful that you can trace the strong women in your ancestral line.

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  13. Ohh this is absolutely stunning a poem, Sherry!❤️ Especially love; " Somewhere back there our souls clawed their way out of bondage and raised awakened eyes to the sky."❤️

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  14. Sherry, this is amazing. Reading this opened up a box of remembrances and let me slow down, enjoy them, and add them to what feels like a prayer of thanks for & to our foremothers. :)

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  15. The grandmothers walk with you, even though you cannot see them. They are your strength, your hope, your light.

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  16. Love such a long line you can feel... mothers are special also for sons.

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  17. this is a moving tribute to strong women.
    i like what you said about "a circle of love that is endless", and that there are future strong women who will carry on the torch.

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  18. Beautiful, Sherry...

    Elizabeth
    https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2019/05/12/about-those-boulders/

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  19. Wonderful ode to these epic women. I am always amazed by the survival of those who have gone before, the trials they wrnt through and how some of them survived. A beautiful piece.

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  20. You walk amidst your ancestors and this is a beautiful ode to their journey.

    I also believe you commune with mother nature daily.

    Happy Mother's Day my friend.

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  21. Love this - the power and the love. A special time for us - my wife, who was adopted as a baby, recently unexpectedly found her birth mother. So my boys have a new grandmother!

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  22. Powerful piece of powerful women. You come from good stock, Sherry. I love the photos you shared, & wonder if you ever saw a resemblance to Bette Davis in your mother’s photo.

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    1. Yes, and later to Lucille Ball at times. Smiles.

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  23. Ok, Sherry, today this is my favorite!!! You have written your best here and I love it!!!

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  24. My granny years are still a bit away, but should life bless me so, I will be honored to be part of that line.

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  25. Another deep and meaningful piece sherry.

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  26. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Thanks.

    Greetings from London.

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  27. What a tribute … and so beautifully penned. The admiration you carry for these women, floats from your words.

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  28. It's great that you know your historic line going back so far. My grandmothers haven't been here that long from the Old Sod.

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  29. Your mother was so glamorous...looks like a movie star. A blood line of strong women is useful in the survival stakes. Enjoyed this Mothers Day poem.

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  30. Sherry, this is beautiful. The strength that our mothers and grandmothers hand down to us is priceless.

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  31. Sherry, my oma was the glue that held my paternal side of the family, together. In June 1952, my oma and opa, with 9 of their 10 children, came to Canada, on their own dime. Settling first, in northern Alberta, before moving to southern Ontario. Speaking very little English, with their Dutch language.

    Oma, was the one, which the grandchildren ran to, when we hurt ourselves or need that emotional support, which our parents couldn't give. It'll be 33 years, this June, my oma left this mortal plane. Taken from us, by cancer that consumed her, less than a year, after it started.

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  32. The bond between grandmother and grandchild is so strong. I know mine was, and it got me through some hard times. Your family sounds very hard-working, and brave, starting a new life in a new country.

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  33. Beautiful words in remembrance and celebrations of the mothers and grandmothers before you. I love it!

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  34. One of your best, Sherry! Filled with awe, power, and hope! Wonderful!

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