Mary Heikkinen
Mary Heikkinen
February 8, 1910 - December 24, 2006
Christmas. The word conjures up so many feelings, and moods, and memories.
And for me, the strongest memories Christmas brings, are of Gran.
Gran. Or Aunt Mary. Or Ma. Or Baba Mary. Mary Heikkinen managed to gather quite a few names in her 96 years. For me, though, she was Granny; and Granny meant Christmas.
In that sacred memory of childhood, especially, where the season lives large in its full majesty, and magic, and glory, oh there her presence looms large. If a season, if a day, can belong to anyone, Christmas Eve belonged to her.
At first, we were but occasional participants, living on the west coast, but time and tide brought us to Thunder Bay, and for me, the magic years of childhood Christmases were spent at Gran's.
And what feasts they were! An endless parade of food, always with special attention to those of her children who abhorred onions, all lovingly and carefully prepared the hours and days before. And the baking...the days and weeks prior no doubt saw a production line that rivalled the city's largest bakeries; the smells of their effort lingered in the air, and, well, almost overpowered the smell of cigerattes that Granny's was also famous for.
And the people...being at Gran's on Christmas Eve meant hosting a never-ending stream of family and friends, well wishers of all kinds, so many in and out, that I swear a revolving door had been installed just for that night. If I know you, if you know me, chances are we first met on one of those Christmas Eve's at Gran's. But there can be no doubt, who the star of that show was.
I have no idea, what it was like for those of you who dropped in and out of our little feasts, but for me, the experiences instilled in my a feeling far beyond a child's sense of mystical Christmas. My sense of family, of what that meant, was born, grew, and was reinforced on those Christmas Eve's; a sense, that I was connected, part of something larger, beyond just me, my Mom and Dad. That, I belonged to you; and you belonged to me. The depth, and breadth, of our family was revealed on those nights; bonds that were forged and reforged by Gran, every Christmas Eve.
Ah, its true, we haven't had those Christmas Eve's in a long while; a victim of time and circumstance. And, perhaps nothing can ever live up to the memories of childhood. I hope not...
I hope, we remember, each of us, to keep faith with her, and with each other, to keep our bonds well with each other, now that we can't count on her, to do it for us. For that would truly honour her memory; that truly is her legacy to us.
So many family, so many friends, have gone before her, and prepared her way; I couldn't help think, that perhaps they finally couldn't bear another Christmas without her, and so...
My Gran passed away on Christmas Eve; her day, now and forever more. She has kept her Christmas well, and earned her sleep.
Merry Christmas Gran, я тебе кохаю
February 8, 1910 - December 24, 2006
Christmas. The word conjures up so many feelings, and moods, and memories.
And for me, the strongest memories Christmas brings, are of Gran.
Gran. Or Aunt Mary. Or Ma. Or Baba Mary. Mary Heikkinen managed to gather quite a few names in her 96 years. For me, though, she was Granny; and Granny meant Christmas.
In that sacred memory of childhood, especially, where the season lives large in its full majesty, and magic, and glory, oh there her presence looms large. If a season, if a day, can belong to anyone, Christmas Eve belonged to her.
At first, we were but occasional participants, living on the west coast, but time and tide brought us to Thunder Bay, and for me, the magic years of childhood Christmases were spent at Gran's.
And what feasts they were! An endless parade of food, always with special attention to those of her children who abhorred onions, all lovingly and carefully prepared the hours and days before. And the baking...the days and weeks prior no doubt saw a production line that rivalled the city's largest bakeries; the smells of their effort lingered in the air, and, well, almost overpowered the smell of cigerattes that Granny's was also famous for.
And the people...being at Gran's on Christmas Eve meant hosting a never-ending stream of family and friends, well wishers of all kinds, so many in and out, that I swear a revolving door had been installed just for that night. If I know you, if you know me, chances are we first met on one of those Christmas Eve's at Gran's. But there can be no doubt, who the star of that show was.
I have no idea, what it was like for those of you who dropped in and out of our little feasts, but for me, the experiences instilled in my a feeling far beyond a child's sense of mystical Christmas. My sense of family, of what that meant, was born, grew, and was reinforced on those Christmas Eve's; a sense, that I was connected, part of something larger, beyond just me, my Mom and Dad. That, I belonged to you; and you belonged to me. The depth, and breadth, of our family was revealed on those nights; bonds that were forged and reforged by Gran, every Christmas Eve.
Ah, its true, we haven't had those Christmas Eve's in a long while; a victim of time and circumstance. And, perhaps nothing can ever live up to the memories of childhood. I hope not...
I hope, we remember, each of us, to keep faith with her, and with each other, to keep our bonds well with each other, now that we can't count on her, to do it for us. For that would truly honour her memory; that truly is her legacy to us.
So many family, so many friends, have gone before her, and prepared her way; I couldn't help think, that perhaps they finally couldn't bear another Christmas without her, and so...
My Gran passed away on Christmas Eve; her day, now and forever more. She has kept her Christmas well, and earned her sleep.
Merry Christmas Gran, я тебе кохаю
posted by Fiddlers' Green @ 2:45 PM
1 Comments
