Showing posts with label Mamie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mamie. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

His Eye Is On the Sparrow

"The sparrow is a symbol of comfort and simplicity. In European lore, the sparrow is symbolic of domesticity and competent homemaking. The sparrow is also associated with motherly love. Small though she may be, she is certainly powerful. She reminds us we do not have to have the big stuff to be important; we do not have to have the loudest voice in order be heard.

"The sparrow is vigilant in her goals. She is always bustling for her food, foraging for her nests, and gathering for her young. Fastidious and productive, the sparrow is a reminder that idle hands (and idle minds) should be avoided in order to live a full, healthy life. She beckons us to keep our burdens as light as we can in order to avoid a heavy heart."
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When a sparrow crashed into the window yesterday and didn't survive, I felt overly upset. Then, just minutes after it happened, I learned that Chloé and Wynham's great-grandmother in France, Mamie, had passed away. She was amazing, always youthful and industrious; a tiny woman with an enormous amount of energy, much like a sparrow. A mother of four children herself, she taught me so much about motherhood.

"I just can't stand another blow," said Wynham. It's been a hard couple of years of loss for these kids. Needless to say, our hearts are heavy as we look to the sky and think of her...
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Friday, July 18, 2008

La Famille

Here's the real reason I made this trip: to see my extended family in France, which includes Chloé and Wynham's nearly-94-year-old great-grandmother (Mamie), and their selfless grandmother, Annie. I am welcomed with open arms, and I'm so glad to see that the passage of time hasn't played any tricks on me; everything seems just as it was last time I visited eight years ago, except that the linden tree which was a sapling then now shades the entire front yard at Annie's house...

I know, as the French say, that it's not always a good idea to "look backwards," but there are certain aspects of my life in France that I really miss: the slow unrolling of hours in the countryside, the reverence for even the simplest meal, and mainly, mostly, the people there that I love so much. I choke back a few tears when I leave, but I am so, so glad that I came to visit...