Heirloom.

Yesterday my Gramps gave me this lovely little painting. In 1939 he purchased it at Dayton's for his mother (my great-grandmother & namesake) as a birthday gift. It was a mere coincidence that it was inscribed, "Delilah", though I suspect that is what spurred Gramps to buy the painting for her as Delilah was her first name.

I never knew her, but I was named for her so I do feel a certain affinity for her. I grew up hearing about her. I know her life story backwards & forwards: the names of all nine of her children, the house she lived in, the house she was born in. Her heartaches & her joy.

Handsome Randy & I have recently begun watching the new HBO series, Boardwalk Empire. Boardwalk Empire takes place in the year 1920, which is the year Gramps was born. As I've been watching this program, I have been struck with thoughts of my great-grandmother, Delilah- Dolly actually is the name she went by- and what life must have been like for her as a woman/mother/wife during that time. Pretty tough.

By 1920, Dolly had bore 7 of 9 children. She was 32 years old. The family lived on what was then considered the outskirts of Minneapolis in Liberty Heights, not so affectionately referred to as "The Sticks," according to Gramps. They had 4 rooms in that little house - 2 bedrooms, a kitchen & sitting room. The bathroom was an outdoor outhouse or "biffy". There were chickens and a pig in the backyard. Working in construction, her husband, Royce was the sole financial supporter of the family while she stayed home with the children and tended to the house. Voting was a brand new right for women.

This is in great contrast to my own life at age 32 today in 2010. I have not born any children. While I live in Minneapolis less than a mile from where Dolly raised her family & lived out her years, I have no animals in my backyard (aside from a house cat) & I have indoor plumbing. My husband Randy and I share household expenses equally and I hold a full time job. I did not have to fight for the right to vote & have exercised this right since I turned 18.

Oh yes, I think about Dolly a lot and needless to say, this little painting is a priceless and prized possession.

I have grown up admiring it and being told that one day, when I was old enough, it would be mine. When I brought it home yesterday I was elated. I rubbed the frame with lemon oil and polished the glass. I held the painting in my hands and imagined what Dolly felt when she saw it for the first time. She smiled, was happy- probably very touched- and said, "Thank you, Doug, " or maybe even, "Thank you, Dougie." I like to think that she called him Dougie for endearment. I don't know where it hung in her home, only that it hung somewhere from that day in 1939 until my grandpa reclaimed it after her death in 1977.

This Little Painting does not only represent my great-grandmother, Dolly, but also my Gramps, Doug Davis. Gramps had it hanging in his living room until a few years ago when he took it down to make way for an art piece he'd received as a gift. It was then moved to an easel and set among family photos on a dining room hutch. This spring the hutch was dismantled ("too much clutter") and The Little Painting was set aside.

The Little Painting brings me back to rides to piano lessons and theatre classes given by Gramps during which he gave history lessons as well as talked past and present day politics with me. These car rides made me feel wise beyond my years and as I grew older the lessons grew into discussions. Now the conversations we used to have in his little Ford Escort take place a few times a week in the living room of his apartment a mere 3 blocks from my own house and a mile or so from Dolly's, his childhood home, where The Little Painting originally hung for 38 years.

I am not exactly certain where I will hang it, but The Little Painting will be in a place that I pass by everyday. And with that passing, I will always be reminded of my great-grandmother Dolly, my Gramps and the impressive stock that I come from.

xoxx

Gramps.

Around 3 o'clock every Thursday afternoon, I ring the doorbell of my grandpa's Northeast Minneapolis 4-plex. He lets me in saying, "Come in! Come in! Come in!" and I do helping myself to a cookie a can of soda. I sit down in his lone recliner & he takes post at his desk. Sometimes the television is on, sometimes it's not. If it is it's usually tuned into baseball or CSPAN.

Sometimes we tell each other jokes, sometimes we don't. We always talk about current politics, current events and about the most recent issue of the magazine, The Week. He allows me to read his latest piece for his weekly writing group and typically has a new trick to show me that involves his color photo printer. At some point he asks "Now, where in the world is Randy today?" as he gestures at his world atlas and I give him the latest. Later on he'll say, "It's nearly 4! You better get to work!", and so I bid him farewell and am on my way.

He gets a lot of credit for who I am today, the convictions I carry and the manner in which I do so. He is part of the reason I adore & enjoy the elderly so very much (my other two grandparents are the other part). He is why I have the ability to think critically and embrace unconventional ways. He is a great man who has led an extraordinary life giving service for others.

A few weeks ago as we talked I couldn't help but notice what a perfect portrait he was making of himself. The lighting, his mood and disposition. So I snapped a few shots. Initially he laughed as he always does, but soon enough he relaxed, continued our conversation and I shot some pretty good ones. These are my favorite.
xoxx

& they're off!

Saturday handsome randy & I spent the afternoon at the horse races with my family in honor of my uncle's 50th & grandpa's 88th birthdays. It was a lot more fun than either of us anticipated & as far as gambling goes, I came out about even & HR came out only $5 in the hole. We had so much fun! We may spend every Saturday there for the rest of the summer.
xoxx

my real weekend: Friday night (to be followed with Saturday later)

working the job that I do it is so rare to have a series of days & nights off that fall on Friday, Saturday & Sunday. I did this weekend by pure chance & I made really good use of it.

Friday was a night with the fam. My uncle Chris turned 52 so there was dinner & cake to be had with my aunts, uncles & cousins. Additionally, my grandpa & his writing group were also hosting a reading that night. So got to see & celebrate something with everyone, how nice!
The birthday was great - so fun. I got to see so many members of my family & exchange stories making each other oooh & aaah or laugh really hard. I always leave family gatherings on that side (The Langers) marveling at our individual rhythms of laughter & how similar we all are to one another & how we just are together in a room. Reminiscing (of course) & making fun of each other..I savor all of it & it really keeps me happy.

Gramps' reading was great - I really feel lucky to have such a talented & active grandpa (who is nearly 88 by the way). He read two pieces, one poem called "Ode to the Walleye" which is pretty self explanatory, the other was called "Power to the People" which was a brief prose about his lobbying days at the state legislature. At the reading they had a compilation book of the groups favorite pieces for sale. Gramps put together & bound by hand all 15 of the books for sale (which were sold for cost, not profit) & they were pretty cool looking.
I was home by 11 & just was there..putzing with my keyboard, laundry and enjoying being home. I went to bed so relaxed, more than I've been in a long time. It was great. Tomorrow I'll tell you all about Saturday..xoxx
p.s. Aunts Stephanie & Kathy - this post was posted by monday morning for you...to make your monday morning that much easier. Thanks for reading so often...love you.

my holiday love.

I don't wear holiday sweaters or earrings or tights or socks. I don't wear anything holiday themed. I enjoy having a tree, a poinsettia, and a centerpiece. But what I really love and appreciate more than anything regarding the holidays is the music. Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker is an album (movement? I should know this having studied classical music my entire childhood) that I make a point of listening to in it's entirety a couple of times during the season. John Lennon's "Happy XMas (War is Over) is a fav as well as Elvis' Blue Christmas and Ella Fitzgrald's "It's Cold Outside", I am embarrassed to tell you how much I charged to my credit card last week at the itunes store downloading Christmas music. Too much, that's all I'll say. But I do have a nice collection now.

But the music that tops all of the above is singing hymns with my gramps at the late night church service on Christmas Eve. It's the only time of year I go to church and the only time I enjoy it. "Joy to the World" is a highlight as gramps often exercises his baritone voice echoing "Repeat the Sounding Joy" and harmonizing with me through out. The service always closes with "Silent Night". The lights are turned way down, almost off, and everyone holds a candle. it's so beautiful, I always cry and every year I really want to reach for gramps' hand & squeeze it, but he is Scandinavian after all, and that might just be a little too much affection for him, so I don't.

xoxx

ode to gramps.

this is my gramps, Doug Davis. a WWII vet, labor/union activist, retired teacher, volunteer lobbyist (senior citizen health care issues), DFL activist, feminist, advocate, Proud Northeaster, Lutheran.
he's 87. he still drives. he cooks all of his meals and lots of homemade soups. he has a computer and an e mail address. he also has cable and a flat screen television. despite these distractions he spends the majority of his home time writing or reading, and doing his latest hobby, bookbinding. when he's not home he's usually at a meeting, sometimes social, sometimes professional or out walking to keep in shape.
i grew up with this guy giving me rides all over town and waiting with me at my bus stop most mornings. He often sent me to school with a lunch of PBJ, lots of oreo cookies and a can of jolt He let me put as much sugar on my frosted flakes as I wanted. Every car ride was a social studies lesson and I put of getting my license to prolong them. Every year on D-Day he asks young grocery store baggers and clerks who cross his path if they know what day it is. Usually they don't and he reminds them of D-Day and all that happened on those beaches at Normandy on that day.
he taught me to be tolerant, loyal and to have a mind of my own. When i began my second year of college I was incredibly unhappy and he was the only one who told me it would be okay to take a break and just work if I needed to (I didn't).
he lives about a mile from the house he & his 7 siblings grew up in and the house he raised his family in (my aunt lives in that one). he likes his neighborhood.
tonight he participated in a reading that was put on by his writing group, "The Audobon 8". He was in his element and everyone was captivated by his charm and writing (a poem about the labor movement, a prose about winter).
he is a fantastic man and I love him very much. xoxx