Keeping Watch: February 25, 2012

Do you have a place that anchors you, a place that you cherish even if it exists only in your memory?   This four square brick house in Moyers Corners, New York is one of those landmarks for me. When I was growing up, it was the home of the Brand family, with Mrs. Brand living on the first floor, and her daughter Irene's family upstairs. Irene was a hairdresser, and I had my first perm from her, just in time for Easter 1962. It was an involved three hour process back then, with smelly chemicals that ran down your neck and curlers rolled so tight they  pulled the scalp away from your head.  You had to sit under a hair dryer that blasted hot air for an hour (so it seemed) until you felt like a prune. But Irene and I chatted and laughed all afternnoon, and when my mother picked me up, I was a girl transformed with curly hair.   Irene died this past week, and whenever I see the old brick house - which still stands on the corner -  I'll remember her chatting and working her hair magic on me, up on the second floor.

Grandmothers: February 8, 2012

Grandmas today are encouraged to do their own thing, to be their own person. 60 is the new 40! It is easy for us baby boomers to join this trend of  "finding ourselves" in our senior years, but society told our black-shoed grandmothers that they should just continue their lifetime household duties as long as physicially able. In their declining years they should take up some crafts, childcare, or church work.   My Grandmother Arnold, however, defied  all of society's expectations. She embraced "New Thought" in the 1920's, explored healthy lifestyles in the 1930's, California living in the 1940's, marriage emancipation in the 1950's, and fragile independence in the 1960's. She was always on the move, physically and intellectually. Like Mary Poppins, she would suddenly appear in Central New York from California to disrupt the humdrum of our lives.Even before her many boxes had arrived from California, she was already planning her return West. Soon she would be off to one of her many houses in LA, attending spirituality lectures, caring for elderly women, and sending us copious, stream of consciousness letters on all manner of paper.   Although my grandmother remains a mystery to me - and I think to herself -  I often feel her restless nature on my own quest into the 21st century.   Happy Birthday, Mary Geneva Thompson Arnold, born 124 years ago today in 1888, in Harlem.