Tuesday, February 13, 2018
Eight really good years.
Given the chance, I will always align my important days with significant days from my past or from my family history. So February 13 was a no brainer day for me as a day to get married - Grandpa and Grandma Jones got married on February 13, 1937, and as it happens, my Grandma Wilson died 50 years ago today, on February 13, 1968.
I was two and a half (those half years count huge when you are little!) when Grandma Wilson died. I only have two or three "film clip" memories of her, and I am very grateful. I can call them up in my mind pretty quickly. Blueberries in a VERY old little ironstone bowl.. a little "baby doll" that she gave me - she had sewn matching pyjamas for me and the doll.. she had tight curly reddish blonde hair and her eyes crinkled up in a grin. I think she got a kick out of me, as I recall. I was the sixth grandchild for her, but my Mom was her youngest and I think Grandma Wilson was especially taken with me as a result (LOL yes shameless self promotion here).
My Mom was pregnant with Scott when Grandma Wilson died. I know that was terribly hard on my Mom. I don't think she ever really talked about it that much, except to me, when she was sort of in a talking mood. Grandma W knew that Mom was expecting, so I don't know if that is good bad comforting or distressing but that is what Mom told me.
So I have a memory emblazoned in my brain - when my Grandma Wilson died, I remember that my parents took me over to Grandma and Grandpa Jones. I remember Dad handing me over, and my parents said "you are going to stay with Grandma and Grandpa for a couple of days okay?". Dad and Mom were in mourning clothes (i.e., black) but I didn't register that at the time. Still though, I feel like I can recall that it was a serious situation. My Mom was 28 years old when her mother died. That's painful.
Grandma and Grandpa Jones went up to the funeral with me a couple of days later. They would have gone to the wake(s) of course, except that they were looking after me.
[out here in the west, or on Vancouver Island anyway, there is no particular hurry after someone passes away to have a "viewing" or funeral/memorial service. Things like that happen a week or two or three after a death here, or at the family's convenience; I don't think I'll ever get used to that. There's only one reason for me that a burial/interment is delayed, and that's because the ground is frozen. Nobody here knows what a wake is. It's okay.. but it will always be a bit foreign to me. When I die, I really want things to go the Irish/Scottish way - I die on day 1, my wake is on day 3 am and pm, and again on day 4 am, my funeral is right after that and I am in the ground before day 4 is over. Thanks for listening]
My Dad was born on December 1, 1937. G & G Jones were married on February 13, 1937, so we always had all kinds of fun teasing them that they wasted no time. In actual fact, they were quite old to get married for the time - Grandpa would have been almost 27 years old, and Grandma 25 years old - that was pretty crazy old in those days, nobody waited that long to get married! They had been going together for a few years, and Grandma told me that one day Grandpa said, "well Moon, I've saved up enough money, what do you say we get married?". That might sound un-romantic on paper, but that was a huge deal for both of them - they could make it on their own, so they could get married!
I never expected that I would get married for a second time. I don't know how or why this happened, and I certainly wasn't looking for it (is that the key?). My husband is gorgeous. He is kind. He is patient. He is wise. He is immensely capable and immensely experienced in life (he was a fisherman for many years). He is genuine. He will kick your fucking ass if necessary. He loves me. I adore him. He is a pool shark and a very good ping pong player but he will never tell you that. He was a cook-deckhand for so many years that he can whip up a meal with a can of beans, some rice and a jar of salsa and it will look and taste like gourmet. He is descended from Russian nobility but that's still kind of touchy to talk about apparently. His Mom is Tatiana, his uncles are Alexis, Nickolai and Alexander.
ANYWAY.. happy anniversary to us. And thanks for reading!
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