Grandma.
Grace brings the old forward
A story,
It may or may not be true.
It is treasured.
When my Grand Mother married, she married a man’s man. Oh he was hard as nails.
Deer Stalker, Hunter, Fisher Farmer.
And he was tight!
One could be thinking he was Scottish but no.
He kept a hard hold on money, even making the children’s boots himself. I heard how ouchy they were as my mother walked those miles to school through snow...
Seven children there were, two boys, 5 girls. And life was hard. In a different way it was good. You know how the bad is wiped and the best left inorder to live, laugh and survive?
Yeah aye.
Life was tough, he was a hard man and Grandma worked her fingers, her children and her birds to the bone. I asked once, not long before she died. What and how she had done it. She looked me straight in the eye. We both had a secret. Cold and forceful was her voice. Not at all the quaver and fade it was becoming and would become,
“Your Grandfather was a good man.”
She then went on to tell me two stories.
One was a Biblical verse about a good woman, whose value was measured in precious Gems. Hello my Dragon eyes were held by her tone and older deeper knowing.
The other story, was of egg money.
She had ducks and chickens, the crafty old fox would lie to Grandad on the numbers, plus occasionally someone would give an extra Bob, and she sidled that egg money out of sight. Swearing and knowing if it got too bad, she would have enough dosh to get away.
Occasionally if a child got in trouble or Graddad was overly stingy, if he wasn’t going to notice it, shit she must of been sneaky, she would use just a touch.
It did not take her long to get the leaving money together, she chipped away. Another child, a tad more needed, on and on. Can you imagine the grind from morning to night? The coal range, the baking, the laundry done in the copper?
Once I asked her how to cure the Christmas ham. Her reply “first you get the fire going under the copper”. Hehehe.
Grandma didn’t say how long it took her to save her monies. I kinda figured 10 years or so. What she did say was she learned.
She learned that once she had a reasonable amount, the trapped feeling had released. Decisions were made from a place of strength. She could look the old bastard (my term not hers, never once did she diss him to me, nor I think her children. Possibly to her sisters.)
Grandma could stand her ground and look him in the eye with her Dragon eyes, from a place of love, respect and strength and that once she had the means to be free, she found she wasn’t actually trapped. Her whole perception had changed.
When she died, aged 96, Grand Mother left 500 dollars to each of her 20 Grandchildren.
I believe the true treasure is in the story.
In peace, strength and love.