coming out of my shell

coming out of my shell

Monday, December 14, 2020

Trees and Memory

Certain of my mother's grandparents came from Germany. Mom grew up in a home where German was still spoken. In later years, when Mom was especially frustrated, she would let loose with a heartfelt "Mein Gott im Himmel." Hearing my mother speak German gave me pause. It didn't happen often because she only remembered a few phrases her father used.  Now I only remember this one. 

Oh wait, she also said "Ach du lieber" or something like that. Again, there were strong emotions involved. Maybe there's more. I should consult my memories. They are all there, somewhere.

I have written before about my mother decorating the tree. Her father put the tree up on Christmas Eve, after the children went to bed. Waking up to a shining tree was the ultimate magic of her Christmas morning. They used real candles, so Grandpa got up early to light them before waking his Katholisch horde.  

That's how it is with me and Christmas. I have my memories and I store my mother's, too. It seems I save some of her father's Christmas memories, as well.  I'm a computer hard drive. A storage unit. Mnemosyne, daughter of Heaven and Earth.  Mother of the Muses.

I would rather be Demeter so I could sleep all winter long.  

https://mythologysource.com/mnemosyne-greek-goddess/












  

22 comments:

  1. My memories come and go. Old family photos and movies have helped. You are lucky to be able to remember so much. Now that my parents are gone, I sure wish I had asked more questions about their youth and their parents. Wish we had all written more things down! Too late now!

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    1. I agree. I lost my mother in 2015. I still expect to be able to call her up and ask her questions. Why didn't I ask when she was still alive?

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  2. Thank you, Collette, for this moving post as well as the previous post with the angel your mother placed at the top of each tree she decorated. This time of year is a rich landscape of memory.

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  3. I too save memories. Before writing became the method of passing down history there were designated keepers of the history in all countries. People would gather together to hear the keeper tell the stories of their particular histories. I love books and videos. But the stories I heard when the adults of my family were telling them were magical. They were stories of my family and so special. Now I pass them on to my children and so on.

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    1. I have to say I have enjoyed reading your family stories!

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  4. Reading this post reminded me so much of my grandmother. She came from Leipzig, Germany to America in 1921. Those German phrases were mixed in with the Yiddish. It was all so rich and colorful. I love reading your Christmas memories.

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    1. I am not Jewish, but I have a special fondness for Yiddish. It is such an expressive language.

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  5. My grandmother came from Ireland and my Mom learned all the Irish curse words. We knew she was really mad or frustrated when we heard her mumbling in Gaelic. We had no idea what she was saying and it actually sounded funny hearing it. When we asked her what she was saying, she always gave us a different answer.

    Memories of Christmas are always bittersweet when we have lost those dear to us. I am, though, always grateful that I had those wonderful people in my life and my recollections are always pleasant. Aging, thankfully, has erased that which wasn’t.

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    1. Oh, that first paragraph made me laugh. Especially when she would always give different answers. I'd love to know a few Irish curse words.

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  6. I've had many years to study family memories. In my observation, they often are appropriated, one after another holding the memory as his or her own.

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    1. That does seem to be how it works. Family is a potent entity, so much more than the sum of one household.

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  7. Christmas in Germany is magical. I remember being at our friends' house at Christmas and the candles on the tree really were real! In Ireland we didn't wait 'til Christmas Eve to put up the tree, but never more than a few days before. And shame on you if you took it down before Little Christmas! (The Epiphany) Here we put our tree up a couple of days before and leave it 'til January 7th. I'm still (after 50 years!) appalled to see Christmas trees out for yard waste pick up a few days after Christmas!

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    1. I like the idea of leaving it up until The Epiphany, to "Little Christmas." Beautiful. I'm enchanted by all things Irish, all things culturally different and wonderful. What better time than Christmas to open our eyes and ears to the differences that make this world so fascinating. So many old world traditions made it to the new world. I found this on Wikipedia:

      "Celebration of Christmas Day on 6 January is reflected in the words of Cherry-Tree Carol, an English folk-song that migrated to Appalachia in the Eastern United States. In his paper The Observance of Old Christmas in Southern Appalachia, C R Young writes 'sometime before the twentieth century, singers who may have been Appalachian residents turned the question which Mary asks of Jesus in regard to "what this world will be" into a query which Joseph puts to the unborn baby. Taking "Mary all on his left knee," he inquires when the birthday will be. Jesus responds:'

      On the sixth day of January
      My birthday shall be,
      ...
      When the stars and the elements
      Shall tremble with glee.

      — Ritchie, Folk Songs of the Southern Appalachians as Sung by Jean Ritchie."

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    2. Nice quote. I like the idea of 'stars and elements trembling with glee'! And you are right. My mistake - 6th. not 7th. January.

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  8. We also had real candles on our Christmas tree. I was always afraid they would set fire to something. And we had Christmas stockings (actual stockings, not the socks that are the norm nowadays).

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    1. I would be afraid of fire, too. But how memorable that must have been. As for stockings, current day Christmas Stockings are over the top expensive and lush. But at least they are used year after year (hopefully) and become a beautiful memory. I wonder when people stopped using their own stockings to hang up on Christmas Eve?

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  9. My favourite German word is:

    Donaudampfersgesellschaftskapitänswitwe.

    Of course, I lie, though, come to think of it, I've used it more than a dozen times since I first encountered it in 1953. It's a demo word. When a new thing comes along the Germans don't invent a new word to label it, they assemble existing words - Lego fashion - to get across the meaning. Not like those intellectual show-offs the Brits who - faced with a wooden box with a glass window on one side - found it necessary to plunder the Latin, Greek, Sanskrit or whatever vocabularies before coming up with television.

    Nah, the Germans, bless 'em, grabbed the essence with Fernsehen, a licorice-allsort word composed from "distant" and "to see". Logical, see.

    Many people think German's an ugly language, To a man - and they all are men - none of these ignoramuses actually speak it. I always had an affection for German which grew when I started singing. For most of the best songs were set by German composers.

    Those non-German-singing clawpokes (an excellent term of abuse handed down by my mother) can never sense the warmth I feel when I step into Sarastro's shoes and proclaim:

    In diesen heil-gen Hallen
    kennt man die Rache nicht

    (Within this holy dwelling
    revenge and sorrow cease).

    I wish I could have sung it for your mum, better still your grandmother.

    Yet again I've got off-track. The long word? I fear you will be disappointed:

    Widow-of-the-captain-with-the Danube-steamship-company.

    Toodle-oo.

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    1. Super dooper fun comment, Robbie. "Clawpokes!" Love it.

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  10. Not only real bees wax candles (a must) but also real sparklers (Wunderkerzen) hissing and sending hot sparks in between Lametta (tinsel) and Strohsterne (star ornaments made from ironed bits of real straw) - the worst were the wax drippings on the good carpet, which had to be ironed out after Epiphany.
    During the years my daughter insisted and we had a real tree (always a real tree), we only switched to electric candles because the cats insisted on climbing up the branches, making a mess.

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    1. Bravo to you for keeping the tradition going long enough to imprint it on your daughter's psyche. She'll be telling these stories to her child soon enough. And so it goes.

      I'm horrified by the sparklers' potential for catching fire, but they must have been very dramatic and exciting.

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So, whadayathink?