Legacy IV: Making the Dream Come True

In my last post, I mentioned a gift from my friend Melissa.  Today I have the joy of sharing another gift from her, this time in the form of her words.  Her blog, Reverie-Daydream, and her online boutique by the same name are two of my favorite online haunts.  Whether she's posting one of her fantastic recipes; writing about an amazing museum; sharing her (or her talented husband's) gorgeous photos; or telling a story about her "Little Crumb," the beautiful and charming Gaia, Melissa does it all with incredible style, grace, and classic Southern warmth.  Her friendship and encouragement have given me strength many times--and I have never even met her in person!  I'm sure I will some day, and I just know that we'll cook a meal together, and it will be one to remember.  In the meantime, she has charmed me with this post about her family's deep roots.  I have a feeling she'll charm you, too. 

Hello Everyone ~

I’m beyond honored to be here; although, a bit nervous and ‘tongue-tied’ since I am sharing my thoughts and words on one of my most admired friend’s blog.  Gigi is my writing hero, for I strive to string words eloquently together just as she does on any given subject.  Her poetic story-telling talent always leads me to a literary high, and I eagerly await for her posts to appear.  Therefore, when she asked me to participate in this beautiful Legacy series, I thought long and hard on what subject to share because for me, the idea of legacy is family.  And along with family come certain traits, beliefs, objects and passions.  

Being born and raised in the South, my roots are deep in regards to respect, values, and work ethic. From the moment we are born, I believe our mothers teach us to say, yes ma’am, no sir, please and thank you very much to anyone and everyone.  We never talk back to our elders, and there is no way on ‘God’s green Earth’, one should ever be late for work (or call in sick unless you are basically on your deathbed). When given a job or a duty, we take it seriously and put our very best into every thing we do or are asked to do.  And when something special is given to you, then you treat it with the utmost care and regard it with deep appreciation.

Lucky for me, I have had the opportunity to know most of my great-grandparents before they left for higher places, and three of my grandparents are happily thriving.  To this day, I am like a kid in a candy store when my mom-maw or pop-paw begins to share a bit of family history or reminisce of their childhood days.  One common thread which continues to be a theme in most of these stories is the entrepreneurial hardworking efforts of my beloved family.  I’m thankful to have inherited this worthy gene, and when my crumb was born, I realized I needed a creative outlet as well as a means for income all the while being a full-time mama.  The powers that be work in mysterious ways because as I was putting together a business plan for an online boutique, my dearest grandmother sent me a card with a check inside.  She explained this was my inheritance, and she would rather see her grandkids use it while she was still with us rather than the usual means that precedes this gift.  Unbeknownst to her, I took this generous offering and transformed the dream of owning an artisan boutique into a reality.   Several weeks later while visiting my family in Georgia, this very same mom-maw (whom I shared my new endeavor with during this visit) asked if I would like to have her father’s old scale.  Not a second lapsed before I declared this gorgeous ‘heirloom’ all mine!  It was the property of George Washington Wade, my great-grandfather who was born in 1889.  He lived to be 93 years-old, and the scale was his for as long as my grandmother (one of 8 children) could remember.  Pop-paw George used it to weigh many of the fruits and vegetables which came from his garden.  People from all around would buy their produce from Pop-paw, and he would also barter portions of his crops for meat of nearby farms.  To this day, the scale has yet to be calibrated and it weighs perfectly to the exact ounce.  How do I know this?  Well, it is the very tool I use in weighing all the Reverie-Daydream orders prior to shipping.  It sits prominently upon my desk, and every day I look at it, use it, and think of my great-grandfather and my mom-maw and the legacy that has been passed down.  A legacy of not only an heirloom I cherish with all my heart, but a family legacy of sustainable business.  Gratitude fills my soul for what I have been given, and I can best share my appreciation through actions because in the end, they do speak louder than words.  

Image and words by Melissa McArdle

Gifts

It is exactly midnight as I sit down to type this post.  Down the hall, my love lies asleep.  One of our cats is curled up beneath the bed on an old L.L. Bean backpack--her favorite nighttime hideout.   The other cat is sleeping here in my study on my desk, right next to my typing fingers.  He has fallen asleep like this so many times over the years that I believe he must imagine my typing to be a kind of lullaby.  It is his way to interpret nearly everything I do as a sort of gift to him.  And over time, I realize that I have adjusted my ways more and more until, indeed, much of what I do when I am with him is for him.  I say this with a little bemusement as I admit that my cat has trained me to make his waking life a series of mini luxury holidays from the hard work that is sleeping.  I also say this with love, because I understand what a gift he has given me.  It comes down to a simple truth: the more love one gives the more love one has to give.  

People teach me this, too, like my friend Melissa, who sent me this little bird vase the week we moved to Portland.  I was grumpily unpacking the umpteenth crate of books when the UPS man arrived with a box from Melissa's beautiful online boutique Reverie-Daydream.  Ever since that day, the little bird has lived on my desk with a new plume of flowers each week--sometimes daisies, sometimes tea roses, sometimes Queen Anne's lace from the roadside.  When I saw gomphrena at the farmers' market the other day, I knew exactly what the bird would be wearing this week.  And each time I glance at the little bird, it reminds me of Melissa.  She's one of those people whose love for those around her seems to thrive and grow the more she gives.  

I mentioned the gift my cat has given me by expecting me to love him.  Mostly love comes easily, but there are times when I don't feel much love at all for anyone, most especially myself.  It is in those times when I discover what I am capable of.  What I mean is that it is a joy to show love when one feels loving.  I am trying, too, to show love when I feel far from loving.  Call it behavior modification, call it crazy, but I find that it works.  I'm reminded of my friend Aeleen's smile meditation in which she suggests that we smile when we feel least like smiling.  I'm also reminded of what Annie Dillard says in The Writing Life: "How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives."  

As I type my cat to sleep tonight, I can measure my life in the soft click of the keys and in his even breaths, and I count myself most truly blessed.

Legacy III: A Civic Mind

What first drew me to Ciara Brehony's blog Milkmoon were the stunning photographs she takes of her home and family in Wicklow, Ireland.  What has kept me coming back every week for the past year and a half are her words.  A born storyteller, possessing wit and heart in equally generous doses, Ciara was one of the first people I met in the blogging world, and truth be told, she is one of the bloggers I've looked to as a model for what a really great blog provides both reader and writer: intense beauty, fantastic writing, reflection, a good laugh or a good cry (or sometimes both), and a strong sense of community.  It is a joy to have her contributing to the Legacy series.  If you haven't met Ciara yet, you are in for a treat.

(Legacy: inheritance, heritage, endowment.)

Dear Readers,

First of all, a huge thank you to the lovely Gigi for doing this wonderful series. I do hope I live up to both her expectations, and also the standard already set!

Also, today, the 6th, Milkmoon is three years old, and I am more than beyond thrilled to be celebrating it here on The Magpie's Fancy with my first ever guest post. Thank you for sharing this with me. 

I have a penchant for nostalgia. Whether my own or others! And I am blessed to have a housefull of old and worn and loved objects that have significant meaning to me, that have their own family stories to tell. Things that I have written about before, things that have pieces of who I am sewn into their seams, that have the memory of where I come from embedded in their grain.  But I have found, on this occasion, that my mind has taken off and rambled off down another leafy pathway, towards something else entirely.

In my ponderings and musing on the title 'Legacy', I took a little wander back through the pages of my own bloghistory, as though scrying for what it might mean to me, for it was a word that immediately held huge resonance for me, yet was one I couldn't seem to pin down.

Ah there! There it was, floating to the surface with little effort : the centre of my mandala was where the answer lay.

We all have our own mandala around us, that living, growing, changing circle of all that we love and need and cherish. That cocoon of people, and places and necessities that is who we are, that is the beat of our heart, the breath in our lungs, the very essence of 'I'. It is something that we never need to think about, for it is lead by our hearts, and has roots so deep we cannot fathom their beginnings.

And at the very centre of our own, unique mandala, is the thing we hold most dear, the treasure that is our anchor, our very meaning.

For me it is Family.

Where we came from, our place in it, and all those things that make us who we are. And it is something so immense that I cannot even begin to classify it. And time and again I have written posts about how I feel about the enormity of my responsibility to my children, of sending them off on the rocky, leafy pathways ahead, and wondering if I have given them all the right essentials! For what are all the right essentials?

But what I do know is that all I can do is hold true to the things that were given to me by my parents, the things that have stood the test of time. And when a friend, (who did not know me in my wayward youth..!) described me as an 'incredibly civic-minded person', it was one of those Insightful Moments of Self, when it felt as though I had been given a title I had, somewhere along the way, grown into.

For although it is something I recognise as an inherent trait, passed on by my parents, it is also something that I have made my own. A mindfulness that expands beyond our own Self, and takes care of how we influence the world around us, every day.

And though I look back and have no memory of how I got here myself, I have complete confidence that my parents hadn't a clue either, but they still somehow showed me the way, and that alone gives me the confidence to keep on going!

Because as I write this, there upon the notice board on the wall I have written: 'Just be the best person you can be. That's all.' And I understand that that is what I have been given. 

A civic mind. 

And I understand now that the Legacy I have inherited, is the Legacy I will pass on. A desire for a trustworthy world, a dependable society, and a conviction of my own effect. For we all have a voice, however small, and if our children hear our voice then isn't that good enough?

~*~

"And though it is just another moment in time, we are standing together, choosing the bright new threads to add to this weave we are part of, our tiny part of this family history that goes back into the mists of time, each thread an essential thread, strong and full of purpose, and each one equally as vital as the next.

And I take my little child by the hand, show him how it is this story is woven together with many hands and hearts.

And somewhere along the way we let them go, knowing their map overlaps with ours, knowing their threads are firmly caught. We let them go, a little at a time, in the certainty that those threads will never break. And that someday they will hold out their hand, and a child will ask to hear their story, will ask to know their place in it all."

~Milkmoon: 28th July 2010~