Friday, February 5, 2010

Return to the Tamarac

“So now, Beowulf, I adopt you in my heart as a dear son.”--Hrothgar
Beowulf, Seamus Heaney translation


My grandma grew up in northwestern Minnesota. Her mother, my great-grandmother, was a city girl moved to the farm.

I have a picture of this place in my mind. Grandma says it was a two-story within walking distance of the Tamarac River. Her bedroom was the top floor. The north facing window looked out on the river. To the west a large window opened inward at the middle like saloon doors. Imagine the sunsets, breezes, stars and thunderstorms that come alive from that view.

Grandma’s company is a safe place when my soul is tired and restless. So is the image of the farm, and the life that went on there. They didn’t eat much beef because grandpa wouldn’t slaughter a cow. He didn’t like the way it trembled for so long after. So that job fell to the boys when they got older. And they seemed to think it ok.

They did have chickens. When grandma was little they took one chick inside the house to help it heal. Grandma says after she had healed and grown and started to lay her eggs she would climb up the steps to the house and lay them inside—right in the same place they had taken care of her.

There was a goose, too. As a gosling it injured its wing. Great-grandma, the city girl, took a needle and thread and sewed up the wound. No kidding. Then she put the goose in with the chickens to help it heal. She feared the other geese would play too rough.

A bond developed. Every morning one hen would walk down to the river with the goose. While he swam, she would walk back and forth pecking away at the shoreline.

They moved the house into Stephen years ago—a new one stands in its place.
The view isn’t the same. I wonder if anyone even notices, and if the thunderstorms smell as lush, and how often in her mind grandma walks down to the river to pace the shoreline before she turns back toward home.

2 comments:

Jay and Sara said...

Thank you for sharing Grandma's stories with us. Refreshing and encouraging. What beautiful experiences. Sometimes I feel like we miss out in this fast-paced, sometimes superficial world we live in today....

Kenyon Gleason said...

This is a really neat story Tom. Thanks for posting it.