THE READING MOTHER

Strickland Gillilan

I HAD A MOTHER who read to me
Sagas of pirates who scoured the sea,
Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,
“Blackbirds” stowed in the hold beneath

I had a Mother who read me lays
Of ancient and gallant and golden days;
Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,
Which every boy has a right to know.

I had a Mother who read me tales
Of Celert the hound of the hills of Wales,
True to his trust till his tragic death,
Faithfulness blent with his final breath.

I had a Mother who read me the things
That wholesome life to the boy heart brings-
Stories that stir with an upward touch,
Oh, that each mother of boys were such.

You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be –
I had a Mother who read to me.

While it’s highly unlikely that my grandmother (pictured above with my cousins) would have been reading any medieval or European folklore, I still love this photo and seeing my grandmother with my cousins. She died about 5 years before I was born and my sisters and I grew up without our grandparents in our lives. My mother didn’t value reading as much as she valued having a well-run household, so there were always duties we might be avoiding if she found us reading. When she became a grandmother, however, she was a lot more likely to read to her grandchildren.

I’m making a list of books to read during the holiday break that begins next week; I’ll share them here as we get to them.

I have had a wonderful holiday — how about you? There were a few days during all the pre-holiday madness that I thought I was getting sick, but I’m grateful I didn’t. It was just my body telling me to slow down and rest. So I did — and it helped.

I’ve been reading a lot — and re-reading some old favorites. If you have kids in your life, I can’t recommend this book enough. I first read it when Erica was two years old and it helped guide me in choosing read aloud picture books. Eighteen years later, those books are timeless and still richly entertaining and satisfying for the boys. I’ve not been reading aloud as much as I should, but that’s going to change in 2010. I also ordered The Book Whisperer, by Donalyn Miller and can’t wait to read it. I’ve gotten so much out of her blog and it’s helped me to source good books for my oldest son.

And just for me, the biggest treat was reading Amy Tan’s The Opposite of Fate: Memories of a Writing Life. She writes a lot about her mom and the grandmother she never knew except through stories and portraits. Reading it was personal, poignant and real. Like Amy, I never knew my grandmother, but her presence is felt through what my mom shares about her own life and the choice she made to marry an American and leave Japan — and her mother. I’ve often wondered about my grandmother’s perspective and wished I could have known her. In her book, Amy acknowledges that there’s a level of “knowing” her grandmother that’s experienced in dreams and intuition and she channels that in her writing. There are stories that need to be told and perhaps the granddaughter is the one to finally tell them. I’m hopeful.

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I had to share this photo today — it makes me smile. This photo of my younger sister and me was taken in 1969 in Turkey when we were stationed at Karamursel AFB.

If you know me, then you know how much I love watching Mad Men; this past season (3) was my favorite so far. I was born during the time period in which the show takes place. We were living in either Torrance or San Bernardino when JFK was assassinated. That’s me in the photo below at about two years old in the pink pantsuit and black Mary Janes. My mom was probably pregnant with my youngest sister when this photo was taken — which means my Dad was in Vietnam while she had three daughters to take care of and one on the way.

My older sisters were 6- and 11-years old then — nearly the same ages as Sally and Bobby in Mad Men. It’s incredibly interesting to watch historic events unfold on the show and wonder how it mirrored my family’s experiences at the time. I love the rich details on the show along with the gritty reality of the racism and sexism — it’s jarring but accurate.

But far more than anything else on the show, I’m tuned in to all the women in their various roles. From Carla — the domestic helper, to Betty — the prototypical suburban sixties wife, I can’t help but compare it to how many more choices and opportunities women have now versus how few they had then. I feel that I can design my own role and make my own rules — it’s an incredible privilege wrought by the dissatisfaction of women in that era.

Who else is watching? Thoughts?

Henry is my dead-end for this side of my family (my paternal grandmother’s ancestor). He fathered 22 children with his first wife, Elizabeth Phillips (1818-1869), so I know there are more distant cousins who possibly have knowledge of Henry’s origins. It’s thought that his mother was a Native American “Mingo” — which, if true, would be a nice surprise. (I had ruled out any possibility that I might have any Native American ancestry).

When I first started researching my ancestry, I had no idea that blogging about it would help me fill in missing information, but on more than one occasion, I’ve been fortunate to find distant relatives who take the time to leave a comment and express their willingness to help.

(Click the photo to go to Flickr and see more information)

In this annual stretch of time from Memorial Day to the week after my birthday, I’m reminded of my trip to Tokyo and the subsequent changes and choices I made after I returned. And every year about this time, I dare myself to try something new. This year it’s a new blog. I’ve been experimenting with blogging elsewhere over the past several months to see if I wanted to break out of writing about knitting and other fiber-related pursuits. Blogging about knitting has been a lovely way to express myself, but then life started happening and loved ones began going through some serious life changes. My parents’ move to Washington led to my desire to explore both my American and Japanese ancestry. Writing about those genealogical discoveries took the place of knitting content over there.

My plan is to keep both blogs — frequency of blogging to be determined. Thank you for reading me in both places.

Erica painted this the night before my birthday — I was surprised and delighted when she brought it to me in the morning. Apparently, she’s been doing some sketching and painting behind the scenes.