Oranges
January 19, 2007
I found out over the Christmas holidays that my Granny’s mother was a lot like my own mother. Abusive, cruel, always yelling and upset. My Granny was treated like a slave, a dog, and not seen as a person. That is, until she went off to visit her grandmother. She says she remembers walking miles, clutching her pillow, as a 4 or 5 year old, in the snow -all the way to her grandmother’s home. Her grandmother lived in a two room house - one served as the kitchen and living space and the other as a bedroom, with a wash basin and stand. When my Granny would visit her own, they would sleep in the same bed.
She remembers waking up in the mornings and her grandmother had put an orange on the pillow beside her. My Granny was very poor, as a lot of people were then, and her tummy often went hungry. She said that she remembers cupping the orange to her face and smelling it for a few minutes before carefully peeling it and savouring every piece. To this day, the smell of orange makes her think of her grandmothers little home, the long talks they had, and those memories with live with her forever.
My Granny is a special person. Her own daughter, (my mother) has always been disturbed, even as a small child of 3. So my poor Granny was sandwiched between an abusive mother and later, an abusive daughter. As we discussed over Christmas holidays, we think that the mental illness skipped our two generations. A bold statement, maybe, but both of us are the polar opposites of our own mothers.
The day we were set to leave my Granny’s to come home, I waited until she had made her bed and I sneaked upstairs to place an orange on her pillow with a thank you card. I just thank God that we had each had a grandmother who was kind, who listened, and who validated our feelings as young people.
~ Karen
January 19th, 2007 at 4:50 pm
Very Sweet Karen, You are very lucky to have your Granny. I was lucky enough to have 2 grandmothers well into my 30s - they gave the best hugs.
January 22nd, 2007 at 5:21 pm
That is lovely, Karen. Yes, children are often rescued by having one good adult in their lives - that one person who lets them know that not everyone is abusive or mentally ill.
January 31st, 2007 at 9:06 pm
What a beautiful story. My mom I beleive isn’t all there mentally. I mean she can make means for her self but in her head she is always right and her parents the same. I so wish that I do not become like them.
XOXOXOXO
~ Wendy
February 13th, 2007 at 12:21 am
Mental illness does skip generations. It has in my family. It can also leave some siblings sane whilst kidnapping others. I don’t know how all that works - if strength of will or sheer dumb luck play any part in it. I know I’m sane (with issues) and two of my siblings were not. I know not a single one of my mother s siblings was what you’d call sane; yet it seemed to skip around in her mothers and grandmothers generation. At least one sibling in each generation counting back 500 years has committed suicide, however. Sad so sad. I cannot wait until the exact function of every single gene is identified. Wouldn’t it be nice to eliminate tendencies toward mental illness completely?
By the way - I love oranges too.
February 14th, 2007 at 10:12 am
What a sweet story. I also had a sweet granny for respite from my crazy home. She was actually my great-grandmother. Her daughter and grand-daughter (my mother) are crazy. I often wondered how such a sweet lady could bore such mean human beings? I think having her in my life is what helped me turn out okay despite what I come from. It was very hard when she died. I miss her terribly. Thank you for sharing this story.