Big Love Stories

Granny Creek Day is the anniversary of the day my mama became an angel.  On this day we take some time to love and connect with her.  Our tradition has been to take irises and daffodils to a nearby creek and toss them in the river, along with our prayers (and sometimes tears), just as we did when we scattered her ashes in the Columbia river five years ago.

This year was a little different.  Dan and I realized that though we tried, we just couldn’t clear our schedules to get away for a nice family hike and ritual yesterday.  It seemed impossible.  We decided to do the hike today (Saturday) instead. It was a bit sad to me that life can, seemingly, be so demanding that a single important ritual feels impossible to “fit in”.  But, in the spirit of my mother, I let it go and “went with the flow” and embraced the truth that the day isn’t really as important as the ritual.

So, instead of our flower throwing ceremony I planned to have her piano tuned yesterday.  This felt equally fitting as a way to celebrate my mother.  I learned that my mother’s piano (which was passed to her from her mother’s mother) was built in 1912 in New Haven, CT.  And, that it is a magnificent piano.  It was good to hear it was in such great shape.

Fred, fixing the practice foot on my mother's piano

And then our day got busy and filled with errands.  I had to pick Leif up early from school and take him down town to do a quick school-related project.  We met Dan and I had to take him out to a meeting on the other side of town before we rushed to Leif’s first soccer practice of the season.  In the middle of all of this I treated myself to a cup of coffee (Kai is up to his old tricks again…it was a 4:15 a.m. wake up yesterday).  We had about thirty minutes of respite from the rushing around while we waited for Dan to finish his meeting.  Lucky for us, there was a nice little open space with a creek running through it adjacent to where Dan had his meeting.  Happily, the boys and I unloaded from the car. I sipped my coffee and we settled into a very enjoyable time of creek exploration.

Leif had scrambled up the side of the creek bed while the little boys threw rocks into the water.  I heard Leif calling to me to show me something, and when I looked his way I saw what he was so excited about.  He was standing next to a single dandelion blooming on the river bank.  How perfect.  Leif picked it and brought it down to the creek. We stood together and said some loving words about Granny Dorothy.  I closed my eyes and loved her and felt her love for me, and Leif and Kai.  Leif threw it into the creek and we watched it dance away on the current.  Then, as we adjusted our gazes and minds back to where we stood, Leif pointed to something else.  And there, lying have covered by sand, was a rusted old piece of an accordion.  No joke.

the accordion in the sand

Those of you who knew my mom (or have heard enough stories about her), know how relevant this is. She LOVED playing the accordion and did it with immense joy and gusto.  So, in the end, we truly did have our Granny Creek day ritual.  And it happened in the most organic, natural way it could have happened.  Yesterday, instead of us reaching out to my mama, she reached out to us.

This experience reminded of how important the practice of ritual is. To open our hearts to the spirit of love so that we can not only nurture others, but be nurtured ourselves. I am so grateful to my sweet Mama for loving us so strongly, and showing me that she is still with me in all that I do and am.

And, as Leif said yesterday morning when we woke up, “Happy Granny Creek Day”.

If you squint your eyes and use your imagination you can see the dandelion flower floating the in the background. It's there, I promise.