This is a story told with love about my imaginary ancestor. I used a picture of my grandmother Mary who is 115 years old on January 5, 2018.
lyrics
At the end of a hot summer in Texas, I was visited in the middle of a quiet autumn night by a distant ancestor from my ancient homeland of England – my GREAT MOTHER.
My great mother, of which we all have many thousands, is a mother of one of my ancestors, a great-grandmother with many “greats” because she lived many generations ago in my matrilineal heritage.
In this case my great mother came to me from 21 generations ago, about the year 1575.
I was visited.
It was a mystical, sacred meeting.
So, my ancestor, without whom I could not be here, she had come to see what my life was like in the year 2016. She had descended through the mists of change through the veil of years to me, now, here.
It happened at 3:00am Monday, in the middle of a very still and temperate night. The name of my dear great mother somehow doesn’t matter. It may have been “Elfleda” which means "noble beauty", “Sunniva” which meant "sun gift", or “Milburga” meaning "gentle fortress". I don't know what her name was, she didn't say.
I have in me her blood, but diluted from 21 turns of the generational wheel, plus day-to-day living and many many meals.
Why did she come?
It was in the dreamy nap of an afternoon in England, she fell asleep in the grass in her little yard on a perfect day. In her dream she visited me, not knowing beforehand my name, my face, but only that I would some day come from her, and without her my life would not have been possible.
I was here when she arrived, because I am here now living in the present. My sleep was interrupted by her arrival.
She wanted to make sure I had arrived and survived after so many lives and generations beyond her own lifetime. She wanted to make sure I was ok. She loved me in a very special distant way, her great-grandchild times 21.
She was curious to see how I live. I said, “First, how do YOU live?”
She replied her life is simple, and hard but there is joy in it. She tends sheep and cows and has a husband and a small garden in her home near her village in northern England. She loves her husband when he’s not drunk and angry. They struggle to have enough to eat sometimes and are thin and quite lean and strong.
Their neighbors’ boys give them trouble with their mischief-making, such as setting fires and throwing stones.
Life is very simple – the sun rises, a day is lived, the sun sets, she rests. She dreams of other places, other lives – hence her visit to me. She doesn’t mind getting older – she was quite extraordinarily beautiful as a young woman. Her hair is long and dark grey, her skin wrinkled and darkened by sun and work.
She couldn’t stop staring at me, her 21st generation grandchild, seated before her.
She said she cannot believe I am 61, because she is only 47 and looks elderly. She expects to die soon from various ailments, aches and pains. Although she had 2 boys and a girl, now grown with families of their own, and she had a full and happy life, she is tired. So she visited me in the future in a feverish fasting afternoon reverie.
Here I was, or am.
She was quite surprised, but excited and delighted, that I live on a different continent far away from where she spent her whole life, in northern England. She looked at my map of North America and I showed her where my ancestors, her grandchildren, had come to Dorchester Massachusetts in 1630 on the “John and Mary” sailing ship. She heard the story of them leaving but never knew what had become of them and their adventure voyage to the new world. My great mother was happy that my life proved that they had survived and continued the family. I told her I live in the middle of the land, in a place called friendly (“tejas”), near a dammed river.
She was surprised and sad a little that I am not married, but happy that I have had children, to keep the family going. I told her I have a grandchild, Zack. She wondered why his family chose to live so far away from me. I explained we have cars and jets, but after a long description which astonished her, about all the new travel technologies, electric lights, roads, and increased population, she still was disappointed that my grandchild is growing up without knowing me, because he lives far away.
With a wave of the hand, she dismissed with contempt and disdain the modern devices that allow people to talk and send messages even when they are not together. She said that is not necessary, and folks could simply wait until they meet again to talk, and the parting for a time would make the reunion sweet, even if it was only for a work day.
My way of speaking was strange and frightening, many words I used while telling my story were unknown to her and had to be explained using other words that were also strange, but dimly similar to hers.
She is amazed that my skin is so smooth and how strong and young I look, even though I am 61. Most people she knows won’t live that long, she said. I explained that I spend most days reading and composing or playing music. She thought I should do more work outside, physical labor, but I explained I don’t need to, because I am retired, and food is available at the market nearby – fresh food of an amazing variety in astonishing ready abundance, without fail. This was fascinating and unbelievable to her.
My great mother was sad that my only biological son had been killed.
She marveled at how my pretty youngest daughter had grown a new nose that looked just fine after a dog bit her original nose off (this really happened).
So many details, like cars, were beyond her experience, so she asked me, without understanding much of my answers due to the language barrier, to explain in detail how those things work, and she marveled at my brief descriptions.
She said people must be so happy in 2016 since they have so many new inventions and so much free time, and abundant food. I said some people are happy, but many are struggling, self-centered, confused and anxious. This greatly perplexed and confounded my great mother. “How could they fail to be grateful and happy and content, with all they have?” she asked, in barely-intelligible ancient English vernacular.
I told her I eat no food from any animal, ever. She said she and her husband, my great-21-times-grandfather of course, often go without food for days, and when they get some, they eat whatever they can get.
Finally, she said she must leave, because her dream was ending, and she must return to 1575 and her home. I hugged her tiny frail bony but very muscular body, and her hair smelled like straw and manure and sunshine.
She looked at me with so much love and deep joy, and wished me well, and she said she hoped to visit me in the future again, but she never did.
She died a year later, happy and content, but from the ravages of common diseases.
My great mother told her husband and friends of her visit to her 21st descendant “Richard” but they did not believe her and thought she was crazy, and thought little of her fantastic ravings and stories of inventions and life on another continent of her descendants and their family.
She always wondered, after her visit here, why the people of the future I told her about weren’t content and happy with abundant food and so much freedom to be idle. She never understood why we craved so much information, which we got from books and flat glass rectangles. She thought that if she had plenty to eat she would sing and dance for joy in her garden all day long.
She remembered my face and contented smile, full of genuine love and admiration for her, for the rest of her days, with a very special private way of knowing.
--------------------------------------- ////***//// ----------------------------------
credits
(c) Sept 19 2016 Richard F. Parke, Austin Texas, USA
Richard's album "DreadNaught" is done!
= BUY NOW ! ==
"So, what is LRig Slatner?" - I was with my daughters and
friends celebrating a birthday at the Anderson Mill Skating Rink, now closed. Bored, I read the signs. "Skate Rentals". "Girls Restroom". So I took the two middle words and reversed them and came up with "LRig Slatner". My daughters liked it as a band name, so I used it....more
The seventh full-length from De Beren Gieren walks the line between spooky library music and free improv, shapeshifting constantly. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 12, 2024
Backed by a trio of jazz musicians, the Taiwanese singer-songwriter develops physical landscapes as a vehicle for stunning sound poetry. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 3, 2024
