Yesterday evening, I took part in a multigenerational picnic, and I had so much fun, I was still glowing happily about it this morning. I was trying to figure out why it seemed so unusual. Of course part of it is that it allowed my brain to stop thinking deep thoughts and just be in the present, laughing and eating with other people. That is a rarity! Part of it is not being a mother or a grandmother, and rarely taking part any more in big family meals. And part of it was realizing that for several years, even outdoor gatherings like this were COVID-awkward. I remember in the height of the pandemic, probably January of 2021, taking part in an outside neighborhood get-together around a bonfire. It was 0 degrees F or so, and while the kids were running around and having a good time, we adults were sitting in chairs spaced well apart, masked or with scarves covering our faces, trying unsuccessfully to talk or drink a soda or beer. Even until recently, I still found gatherings a bit hard, but finally, three summers later, the rough edges of fear seem to be wearing away, certainly in the out-of-doors.
Another thing is, I was by far the oldest person there, by a good dozen years. A snapshot taken showed me with a halo of white hair -- overall, it's very long now and quite brown, but the white hair is concentrated in the front, of course. I don't mind being the oldest person, but in my vanity, I hate looking like the oldest person! Plus, I was one of the only people in a chair...(!) I guess that made me the unofficial grandmother of the gathering. But in the end, that makes me smile.
I've thought of my Schenectady grandmother quite a bit recently. I think I have previously mentioned that there are photographs of her, oil painting on the rocks in Kennebunkport, Maine, wearing a large, white, floppy-brimmed hat, and that's the kind of hat I wear about town in the summer. The bus drivers recognize me and wave sometimes from across the street! When I was sitting on the rocks near Lake Superior the other day, it was Agnes that I was embodying. And Grandma had a singsong way of speaking sometimes when she told us (her grandchildren) to do something -- I particularly remember, "Eat your beanies" when I was slow to finish my lima beans. I find myself speaking in somewhat the same voice when I speak to dogs and small children (sorry kids!) Most of all, she loved being surrounded by beauty, paintings, books of paintings, art and needlework of all kinds. Ditto, me.
When I said the other day that I'm moving forward carrying far less of the weight of history, it's a reminder: I happily, and proudly, carry "her"story, the threads of connection to my foremothers and their energies. If we are looking for things to "save" the planet as we reach ever higher global temperatures, we only have to look to our grandmothers and their grandmothers. I am so thankful for an unexpected moment of fun, love, good food, and connection, and for embodying a thread in a rich, beautiful weaving that goes back to the dawn of time.
