Thursday, July 29, 2010

Family Tradition

Just as I'm not sure where in Minnesota the above three-generations-of-family photo was taken, I'm also not sure where my grandmother was born, but I do know that she was born on this day in 1879 in Minnesota.

This morning I looked into the extensive genealogy that she and my grandfather began and which was continued by one of my grandmother's many cousins. The genealogy goes back to 1653 in Vang, Valdres, Norway. The genealogy doesn't say where my grandfather was born either. It does say that my grandparents were married in Red Wing, Minnesota, on the anniversary of my grandmother's father and mother's wedding in 1878 in Decorah, Iowa.

Listen to my nephew singing Happy Birthday to his mother in 2009. He is carrying on a family tradition that goes back at least three generations of sons. My father dearly loved his mother, Amanda, as did my grandfather love his mother, Dorothy. Their mothers loved them and encouraged them to follow their dreams.

What I do know about the family photo is that my grandmother Amanda is the young woman on the far left of the photo. Moving to the right across the photo you can see her grandfather Nels, her sister Anna, her grandmother Martha, her sister Mabel, her mother Mary, her sister Julia, her brother Nels, her father Carl and her sister Clara.

I don't know when the portrait of my grandmother was taken but she appears to be a teenager--possibly the same age that my nephew is now.

May love bless and keep our family always!

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Late July evening / Almost full moon


You'll get tired and you'll get weak
But you won't abandon your masterpiece.
(Jakob Dylan, lyrics from "On Up The Mountain")

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

A Poem Message from Ocean Springs, Mississippi

The Fountain

Don't say, don't say there is no water
to solace the dryness at our hearts.
I have seen
the fountain springing out of the rock wall
and you drinking there. And I too
before your eyes
found footholds and climbed
to drink the cool water.
The woman of that place, shading her eyes,
frowned as she watched-but not because
she grudged the water,
only because she was waiting
to see we drank our fill and were
Don't say, don't say there is no water.
That fountain is there among its scalloped
green and gray stones,
it is still there and always there
with its quiet song and strange power
to spring in us,
up and out through the rock.

~ Denise Levertov ~

Denise Levertov's poem was printed in River Rock Yoga's newsletter

Wednesday, July 7, 2010