Psychic Advice

I was born in France, with the exception of my mother and one cousin, my entire family still lives there.  Wednesday the 2nd of August my mom and I spent the day with my aunt whom I hadn’t seen in twenty years.  She and her husband made a two night stop in San Francisco on their way to see their daughter (my cousin) in Colorado.  They did this so, as my aunt put it, she could hug my mom one more time before either one of them dies.  They are the two surviving siblings of four.  Although I have no one to pass it on to, I love knowing the history of my family and hearing the stories of my mom’s childhood.  Most of all, I love knowing as much about my grandmother as I can learn.  I have great admiration and respect for my grandmother.  Granny, as all her grandchildren called her, was an incredible woman.  She was born in 1891.  She came from a prominent country family and was brought up as a “lady”.  She had never cooked until she married nor done any manual work other than needlepoint.  She embroidered beautifully.  My grandfather thought he was a business man and lost all her money in his bad investments.  He then left her for eleven years.  She became a single mother with four children in 1930.  Her only income was from a farm she still owned and half a farm given her by her husband.  Throughout her life, maids had done the house work and gardeners had maintained the grounds.  She could not divorce and lived in a fish bowl.  Her father in law lived next door and reported every move she made to her husband.  Back in those days, my grandfather could go live with a mistress, but my grandmother had to stay the faithful wife.  She raised chickens, geese and rabbits for food and planted vegetables.  She managed to provide the basics for her four children.  I am sure somewhere near her house the hobo symbol for “a good woman lives here” was etched or drawn, as no hungry person was turned away without being given something nourishing on a thick slice of bread.   When the Nazis occupied France, it was mandatory she provide housing for at least one officer.  Her father in law had died by that time and his house (which was next door) was lived in by a group of officers.  I cannot even imagine her fear as she had three teen age daughters and had to send her son into hiding so he would not be placed into forced labor in Germany.  She did speak fluent german which I’m sure was a help.  During the occupation, she added chopping wood to her list of manual skills.  She was a beautiful and strong woman who could intimidate with her super straight posture and strong voice.  She was always a lady who never went out without her hat and gloves (a must in those days).  My strongest memory of her was when she would manage to do her sewing with me in her lap.  She talked with me as she sewed and I threaded her needles for her.  When a needle fell to the floor, I would find it and pick it up.  Next to my mother’s lap, it was the safest and warmest place in the world.  She held no bitterness that I ever heard about.  She even took my grandfather back when he decided to return to his family.  I must admit he payed for those eleven years away.  My grandmother had several strokes in her later years and it was he that took care of her until the day she died.  I give him credit for not letting her be taken to a hospital and she died in her own home surrounded by her children and many of her grandchildren.  The women of my mother’s side of the family are all strong in their own ways.  My mom, her mother, and her two sisters all also had the “gift” as do two of my female cousins.  Listening to my mom and her sister reminice (probably for the last time) was an unexpected special gift I’ll always cherish.