your memories of grandmother

“My Grandmother’s House” is at #17 today on IndieHeaven’s Fan Faves chart.

What are some memories of your grandmother?

SCN 15 Minutes of Fame

Just got word today that the Minus 40 Tour documentary by Raymond Lacusta Productions will air on SCN’s 15 Minutes of Fame on Jan 27 and 31, and will be available afterwards on the internet!

 

Dara Hallett and I have also been enjoying recent success on the IndieHeaven Fan Faves chart, where fans can vote for songs and artists they love. In December 2009, Dara’s Christmas song “Mary’s Story” reached #1 and stayed there for nearly two weeks! Currently, my song “My Grandmother’s House” is at #18 and rising. Many thanks to everyone who has voted so far!

 

IndieHeaven, based in Franklin, Tennessee, is the leading independent Christian musician/artist resource agency serving thousands of indie artists non-stop since 1997. ‘Colleen and Dara’ have a page on IndieHeaven to feature our collaboration and individual music projects. Fans can listen to our music and buy digital songs.

 

 

Broken to bear fruit

I have a friend who is learning some hard lessons right now. S says she’s “learning that its ok to be broken and actually show it because that’s when real healing comes.”

Growing good fruit requires painful, messy acts like digging, pruning, and harvesting. We dig for memories to get rid of root lies, we prune unhelpful and/or unhealthy thoughts, actions and relationships, we wait for the ripening, we separate the fruit from the branch or vine, and finally we enjoy the results! It is NOT easy, but it's important, and if we'll cooperate with the process there will be good fruit. Resist the process and we could lose the whole tree.

S’s lessons about brokenness resonate with what another friend, Jason Goode, is learning from another perspective. Jason has “come to believe that part of the vocation of parenthood is allowing the purity, freedom and openness of our children to expose our own brokenness. Parenthood is an opportunity for healing.” (from Letters to Mahri – January 6, 2010)

So many things expose our brokenness.

So many opportunities for healing.

My Grandmother’s House

“If you cry while you are writing the lyric, that’s catharsis. If other people cry after hearing it, that’s craft.”

~ Bruce Madole, “Close to the Bone” in Canadian Musician, Nov/Dec 2009, p. 58.

A little over a year ago I sat down at the piano to write a song about some important women in my life: my aunts, my “other mothers.” It was well-intentioned, but inspiration often doesn’t cooperate in the direction we think it should go. I was surprised to find myself “in” my Grandmother Taylor’s living room. I grew up on the same farm where Grandma' lived. She was part of my everyday world. If mom wasn’t home after school, I would usually go to Grandma’s house, where I might find her in baking or napping or playing Scrabble or reading. She was soft and loving. Her little bungalow was clean and cosy.

Grief is a strange thing. Following the memories, playing and singing what I saw, I was surprised by the deep sobs that rose. Grandma died fifteen years ago. I was living in Taiwan at the time, so couldn’t get home for the funeral, but Aunt Evelyn sent a tape recording of the funeral. I carried it around all day until I could get home and play it and cry through it. I hadn’t really cried or even thought extensively about Grandma since that day in 1993. Did I think I was done grieving her? Apparently there was unfinished business.

That writing experience was evocative, but the initial song was not: it needed crafting. My brother Jeffrey gave helpful input on song structure and melody. The metaphorical bridge about hollyhocks and cousins had to go. My mom suggested stronger images and verbs. Dara Hallett suggested a lower key.

My grandmother is one of my “other mothers”: a woman whose of indelible influence in my life and the lives of many.

******************************************

A few months later I shared the song during the Minus 40 Tour with Dara and recorded it for our live album. This month “My Grandmother’s House” is on the IndieHeaven Fan Faves chart. Please have a listen and vote for it. You can also buy the digital track (or the entire album) there. Physical CDs are available through www.colleenanddara.com.

LYRICS:

This is my grandmother's house

This is the clock that she wound

This is the chime that would strike

To count the hours

This is the couch where we sat

It’s the place where she napped

And the blue afghan she wrapped

Me with love in.

CHORUS 1

I haven't been here in some years

I haven't walked through these rooms

To visit these memories

I haven’t seen her face or heard her voice

Yet somehow she’s here for me

I hold the books that she read

I see the Scrabble we played

Find my poems she saved

In her silver chest.

I taste her dark chocolate fudge

Smell her bread as it bakes

Savour meals that she served

At her table

CHORUS 2

I haven't been here in some years

Just let me walk through these rooms

To visit these memories

I haven't seen her face or heard her voice

Yet somehow she's here for me

Beside the violets she grew

I view the albums she made

Receive gifts she had stored

In her steamer trunk*

I hear the prayers that she prayed

I smell the wood burning stove

And snuggle up in the quilts

She made to warm us

 

CHORUS 3

Just let me stay here for awhile

Just let me walk through these rooms

To visit these memories

I can recall her face and hear her voice

Somehow she's here for me

This is the life that I live

And now who I've become

Echoes back who she was

In who I am

 

* I have changed the lines “receive gifts she had stored in her steamer trunk” to “view the albums she made with photos from our family story.”

Loving obstetrics

Last week I met a retired medical doctor who said her favourite part of practicing medicine was obstetrics. We were in our chiropractor’s waiting room and she was interested in the book in my hand, Ladies Who Launch, which launched a conversation about what we do and what we love.

I also love the birthing process, metaphorically speaking. I love “birthing” new things myself, and I love facilitating that in other people.

In Growing Spiritual Redwoods, William Easum and Thomas Bandy talk about leaders as Spiritual Midwives: visionaries, synthesizers, and motivators (p. 184). Spiritual Midwives “do whatever is necessary to facilitate the potential for birth that lies within others” (p. 185).

Doula is a similar role. Sandra Vander Schaaf (The Art of Seeing) is a doula who has helped to bring human babies into the world. She also helps with other kinds of birthing; our friend Rosie engages Sandra as “organization doula.”

Sandra views her work this way:

“The role of doula is one I apply in a lot of non-birthing settings insofar as it speaks to the notion of coming along side to empower, encourage, equip. I love that it's not at all hierarchical—it's not me teaching someone who doesn't know, it's about peer-to-peer support, lending one's presence and experience to the benefit of another in a gentle and generous side-by-side relationship.”

I am a Creativity Doula, coming alongside others, lending presence, experience, and support. Some births are easier than others, but every new “mother” needs helpers and companions.

Kathleen’s favourite read-alouds

Looking for a last minute Christmas gift—or perhaps a library excursion during the holidays? Here are some favourites from Kathleen McMillan (author: BlueBeary, preschool teacher).

 Harold and the Purple Crayon by Crockett Johnson (64430227)

Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel by Virginia Lee Burton (059023487X)

Copy Me, Copycub by Richard Edwards (439217164)

Red Is Best by Kathy Stinson (092023626X)

Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown (64430170)

The Biggest House in the World by Leo Lionni (394827406)

Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst (689711735)

Snow Lion by David McPhail (819310980)

The Runaway Bunny by Margaret Wise Brown (590996347)

And You Can Be the Cat by Hazel Hutchins (1550372165)

The Story About Ping by Marjorie Flack (590315773)

Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak (64431789)

Guess How Much I Love You by Sam McBratney (1564024733)

Something from Nothing by Phoebe Gilman (590745573)

Timmy Green’s Blue Lake by Donna Bergman

The Lion’s Share by Chris Conover

Roxaboxen by Alice McLerran

A Pocket for Corduroy by Don Freeman (590319701)

Goodnight, Baby Bear by Frank Asch (439104297)

Barn Dance by Bill Martin, Jr. and John Archambault (805007997)

Pete’s a Pizza by William Steig

Caps for Sale by Esphyr Slobodkina

Do what you love

Yesterday I had a minor car accident* that led to meeting some delightful fellows who love what they do.

First there were two police officers. Ian had just gotten off-duty, so he called in the accident directly and stuck around until another officer arrived. Does this mean Ian loves his work? Maybe. He was certainly kind and helpful.

The next officer, Constable B, came immediately and sat with his lights on diverting traffic to the other lane. My car wouldn’t start, so he let me sit in his squad car, where we had the best chat about moving from out of province (me from SK, he & his family from Britain) and about parenting, education, tutoring, and success. We agreed that too many parents push their children to be “the best” but too often their ideas of success and what’s best don’t fit the child. What if the child doesn’t want to (or can’t) be a brainiac, doctor, lawyer, teacher or CEO? What if the child wants to be something practical and less glamorous yet desperately important, like a tow truck driver in an icy winter storm?

Then there was Kevin. Of course I’ve met him before, but he’s worth mentioning in this story because he loves helping people and loves mechanics. He brilliantly diagnosed my car’s problem on the phone: "Did you hit the back end? You probably tripped the intertia switch." Sure enough. Apparently it’s a safety feature.

Kevin came by as soon as he could, first pulling over to check an online manual for the '96 Crown Victoria to figure out where to find the inertia switch. When my knight in shining 4WD truck arrived he gave me a hug, flipped the switch, inspected the exterior damage, gave me more hugs. Mission accomplished, he disappeared into the snowstorm to fetch his little girl. Later he picked me up from home to spend a quiet evening with pizza, hockey (go Flames!), and a nap.

Finally there was Art, the tow truck driver who LOVES his job and wouldn't do anything else. (Of course, I talked to him about his job!) He says he makes decent money, but he left a higher paying management position to do this work that he loves. He loves the challenge and the all-nighters: he could repeat the same scenario five times in a row and not get bored because it’s different every time. I am SO glad.

I felt so safe with all these capable men taking care of me, and safer because they weren’t merely enacting a duty. It’s not just about the money (though that helps). Fulfilled in their work, they were able to show kindness and skill. And I’m so glad they are in these vocations.

*Single vehicle (mine): hit black ice on a bridge, fishtailed twice, glanced off the guardrail with front right (only broke the signal light cover) then spun around, slid and landed backwards with the left corner of the back bumper scrunched against the guard rail. Didn't hit anyone else. Bumped my head, but not too hard.