7 July 2013, submission of "8" for wewriwa
I have spent all day weeding in my raspberry patch. As I weeded, I formulated my “8” in my mind. I am yet writing of my Grandmother Minna’s, life.
I have spent all day weeding in my raspberry patch. As I weeded, I formulated my “8” in my mind. I am yet writing of my Grandmother Minna’s, life.
“One of the garden weeds produced a vine, which attached
itself to the ground every couple of inches as well as seeded itself from
flowers. Do we have such a tenacious
hold on life? My grandmother, Minna, had seven children, one of which, Edna,
died at age two. My aunt, Esther, two years older than Edna, remembered that she had asked her
mother if she could have the bouquet of violets that were on top of Edna’s
coffin after Edna was buried, "because Edna did not need them any more". Her
mother, Minna, refused to let Esther have them. After the death of Aunt Esther,
last of the living children, I found a small box, among my grandmother’s possessions, with an
artificial bouquet of violets in it, saved all of her life. Seven children, one death, but all were
precious to a mother and none forgotten. I knew at once the source of this nosegay of violets.”
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Oh, that is beautifully poignant. And I think we do have an equally tenacious hold on life - I love the allegory you draw with this.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kizzia
DeleteShe never forgot little Edna. How wonderful to find the violets so many years later. This is such a fascinating story, Carol. Looking forward to the next excerpt.
ReplyDeleteDebbie, You and I both saw this the same way. There were not many of her possessions left. This was one of very few.
DeleteBeautiful writing! So much emotional depth with only eight sentences.
ReplyDeleteThank you Dana.
DeleteAwwww, so genuinely touching. What a wonderful, poignant detail. Excellent snippet.
ReplyDeleteThank you Veronica.
DeleteWhat a touching snippet! I love how you bring in the violets, and that you wrote it while weeding your raspberry patch... it shows a lot about you, as the author... I love it!
ReplyDeleteI was shocked when I opened the box and saw the small nosegay of violets. It brought tears to my eyes. Anyone else opening it would have thought, "This is junk. Why is it here?" But the family was very poor, it makes sense that they could not afford fresh flowers.
DeleteWow. Beautiful. Very powerful and thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteThanks Karysa.
DeleteBeautiful, love the sentiment.
ReplyDeleteThanks Gemma.
DeleteVery touching snippet. I'm still very much enjoying your story and look forward to reading what you post.
ReplyDeleteHistory Sleuth's Milk Carton Murders
And I enjoy yours. Thank you so much for reading.
DeleteCarol, this is beautiful... such a bittersweet thing, the little violet nosegay. Your writing continues to get better and better! :-)
ReplyDeleteThank you for encouraging me and getting me started. I'm finding that I feel closer and closer to my family as I write.
DeleteThis was so beautiful, how you were able to catch your grand mother's feelings. :)
ReplyDeleteLinda, when I first found the nosegay I thought, "Oh this must be from Edna's death. But the "real" meaning of it did not hit me until I wrote this. It was just a fact before. Now it became my grandmother's heart.
Delete