But It's Time

Thanksgiving was so fun. And our last in Montgomery. It’s sad to see the house go. But it’s time. - Miranda, November 2005

Much like Frances, I have very strong associations with places. Every year, as I begin the Thanksgiving preparations, I reminisce about Thanksgivings Past.

I remember our last Thanksgiving at my Aunt’s house in Montgomery. My cousin Claire was just a baby. My Grandparents were still young(ish). We had our classic family dishes. Nothing stands out as spectacular or unusual, but that’s what made it so lovely. The tradition continued, and that alone is perfect.

Houses come and go. They feel like home for a while, and then it is time to move on. But it is never the house that makes it feel like home. It is the people. The stories. The celebrations. The customs. This year, whether you are honoring the past or starting new traditions, I hope you have a wonderful holiday in whatever place feels like home for you.

Just like my diary entry, this blog post is short and to the point. I have to get back to my giant checklist. Now, where did I put that cranberry sauce….

I Love My Home

We have lived here among the Jemison people and found them kind and good. We have bought us a nice home. I don’t like Jemison, but I love my home. It is a comfort to have a nice home, a place where happiness reigns supreme. - Frances, October 1891

Every year, on November 1st, I get a little sad. Once Halloween is over, most people skip right on over to Christmas, missing Thanksgiving entirely. The stores fill with red and green decorations, the movie channels switch to snowy scenes, and almost every TV commercial includes some part of the Nutcracker music. But what about Thanksgiving??

I love Thanksgiving because of the strong ties to family and tradition. Growing up, we always gathered at a family home to celebrate. First, it was my Grandmother’s house in Tuscaloosa - sitting down at the big dining room table. Then my Aunt’s house in Montgomery - taking the family photo on the deck. And my Aunt’s house in Atlanta - snacking on appetizers in the sunroom. A home holds memories like no other place.

From her diary entries, it sounds like Frances struggled with living in Jemison. She never goes into detail about why she doesn’t like Jemison, but she frequently describes her home as a source of comfort and relaxation. She raised her family in that house, and she always felt safe there. Even when the future looked uncertain, she had her home.

There is something wonderful about having a secure, safe place to call home. This Thanksgiving season, as we dust off the family recipes, let’s take a moment to remember the places of our past. Sometimes, home really IS where the heart is.

The Star On The Wings

Things quieting down some.  News is much better - lots of planes flying around + using this field.  We are really in the front line now.  Hospital down to 4 patients - everyone is afraid the U.S. airmen are staying here + that we are sure to be bombed.  Right after lunch we had to run like everything because the urgent alarm + then the planes came so quick.  They came tearing down the valley real low and we thot sure we were going to get aplenty - then we noticed the star on the wings - our own planes - 8 of them - they all landed, but took off again very shortly.  We played pinochle later. 

A real fight today.  At noon 9 planes landed here to refuel.  Almost immediately the alarm sounded + they all took to the air, waiting for the Japs.  They came sneeking over the mountains - 8 of them, bombed the airfield + made a beeline for home, our planes hot on their trail.  We heard 1 Jap plane had been shot down.  We'll be seeing plenty of excitement around here now I think. 

-Annette, June 1943

Annette and Clary had a front-row seat to all the wartime action!  I included two entries here, because I love her entries from June 1943. 

Annette had been in China for over two years, and she always longed for some connection to home.  I see it in her cooking, her excitement over letters and magazines, and of course, in her desire to keep up with the progressing war.  There is a shift, though.  Now, she isn't just running for air raid sirens.  Now, she can look up and see those stars on the wings.  American pilots flying American planes.  Even in the devastation of war, I can only imagine the relief and pride she felt.  Maybe hope, too.  Hope that they were going to make it through this terrible war.

Her past entries included so much detail about their daily routines, but as the front lines shifted, all entries were war updates.  Here, though, she mentions a game of pinochle - her favorite evening activity with her friends.  Slowly, the details come back.  She had an awful toothache. She found time to can the beans before they went bad.  Her friend Elsie is pregnant again.  She even mentions (finally!) how many orphans they sent with Miss Simon - 14 infants!

Even when the world is turned upside down, Annette noticed the details.  It's easy to give up hope when 8 planes fly overhead - until you see the star on the wings.  Those American pilots renewed her spirits - and her connection to her home.  

I'll take a break from Annette for the next few posts, but don't worry, we'll come back to this time in her life.  Exciting things are coming up for her!

A Real Energetic Spell

This morning I had a real energetic spell :  one thing I thought it was Saturday.  With Willie's help, I cleaned up the parlor and Annie's room, had a regular washing for the babies.  But then we are so unsettled - we may move to Bessemer.  Can't say yet what we will do.  - Frances, January 1892

It can feel great to get things done.  Having a day to clean, run errands, work on projects - that sounds perfect to a list-maker like myself.  This past week, I was a flurry of activity, juggling 4 different To-Do lists and still managing to finish my 'real' work.  It was exhilarating - and exhausting.

Sometimes I wonder if we use our chores and tasks as an escape - as a way of avoiding the big things we don't want to deal with.  We may not be able to resolve a looming crisis or major decision today, but we sure can complete a task!

Frances was proud of her 'energy' that morning, and rightly so!  Maintaining a household and caring for babies is no small feat, so I'm sure it felt great to get things done.  But then she mentions the possibility of moving to Bessemer.  Uprooting her family and moving to a new city.  Starting over.  A decision like that can certainly cause anxiety, especially when you haven't made up your mind yet.  A list of manageable, completable chores starts to sound pretty appealing.  Clean house - check!  Bathe children - check!  Evaluate new living situation and determine possibility of financial stability - um...pass?

While it can be comforting to focus on the To-Do lists, we also need to make space for the 'big things' in the background.  The answers will come, but only if we give them a little room.  Take a step back.  Find a few quiet moments.  Remember to breathe.  

I have two very big events coming up, both of which are incredibly exciting and a little bit scary.  My checklists are winding down.  Now, the most important task for me is to slow down, stay present, and remember every moment of this experience.  To paraphrase Ferris Bueller, if we don't stop and look around, we could miss it.  And I don't want to miss a single moment.

And December Is Just Starting

I'm exhausted.  And December is just starting.  Thanksgiving was nice.  Sold Daddy's house.  He loved that house.  We worked so hard to keep him there.  I get so sad when I think about him.  I should be more gentle with myself, but I am so tired of being so emotional.  I'm just tired all the time.  - Miranda, November 2008

For me, the November-December transition can feel like a blur, rolling from a major holiday to a major month of performances.  A few years ago, I started intentionally keeping Thanksgiving weekend clear on my calendar.  No gigs or teaching obligations - just one last quiet moment before the December craziness begins.  Now, the Christmas trees are going up, and I'm happily dusting off Sleigh Ride and The Nutcracker for another season of holiday concerts, instead of feeling like Scrooge.  

This was not always the case.  2008 was a challenging year for me, all around - I remember being exhausted all the time.  Thanksgiving happened, and before I knew it, I was practically living in my car with my clarinet, concert clothes, and a Santa hat.  Through it all, I was grieving the loss of my Dad.  No time to sit around, though!  I had to get out there and earn that money!  I can even see it in my diary entries - lots of short sentences and repeated phrases.  Variations on 'just so tired' were particularly prevalent.  On top of that, we sold my Dad's house around that time.  Talk about emotional!  I spent a lot of time trying to process my grief and deal with it logically.  Sometimes, I ignored it all together.  Any guesses on how that turned out?? 

We don't always have the luxury of clearing our schedule to deal with our emotions.  As we head into the holiday season, maybe we can all steal a few moments for ourselves.  In this time of giving, maybe we can give ourselves a break - and be a little more gentle.

I Ought To Be Happy

This is the thrice anniversary of our marriage.  I ought to be happy.  Here I have a nice comfortable home, a dear kind husband.  Two of the dearest little ones in the world.  I am, most of the time.  Sometimes I am about half sick - feel real bad + imagine Mr. Grimes don't love me, but I reckon he does - he does think to say a few kind sympathetic words.  I was never petted in the least in my life.  Why should I expect it now?   - Frances, June 1892

Every time I read Frances' diary, this entry stands out.  Here she is, on her third wedding anniversary.  Living the life she is 'supposed' to live.  Raising two children.  Living in a nice house.  Maintaining that household (with the help of a cook and a nurse).  Supporting her husband.  She has all the comforts a woman could want.

But why isn't she happy?  Are these fleeting moments of sadness - or a more telling description of her married life?  She calls her husband Mr. Grimes - was this just formality, or something deeper?  Was she seeking more affection and connection with her husband?  Or was she just tired that day?

So many questions from one entry, and such a revealing glimpse into her world.  Have you ever felt like Frances?  Felt disconnected from your loved ones?  Felt guilty for not being grateful enough?  Those are definitely familiar to me. 

Journals contain more than lists and recipes - they also hold our doubts, fears, and insecurities.  We are all complicated, messy, beautiful humans - at both our highest and our lowest - and we are more alike than we are different.