A Beloved Grandmother

Today was my maternal grandmother’s birthday, 121 years ago.  It hardly seems possible that she was born that many years ago and only one generation separates the two of us.  I have to blink several times to remind myself that I am no spring chicken myself and yet . . .

Time is sneaky.  Day to day we question “what time is it” or “what day is it” and as Christmas comes upon us we start asking “I can’t believe another year has gone by”.  Sneaky little dickens, Mr. Time.  Time may be manmade but whatever we want to call it, it marches on without missing a beat and with no consideration towards the frailties of mankind.  A split second can make all the difference in an Olympic athlete’s life and a human life time can disappear before we can turn around.  That’s time and that’s life.

My grandmother was given the name Erla Algunda, Gunda for short and she was the second youngest in the family.  She was a beauty and also blessed with intelligence.  Oddly enough she did not marry young, as her sisters did, but instead had a career as a nanny that took her to Copenhagen.  At one point she was on the brink of immigrating to Australia to join an uncle and cousin but then she was called back to Fredrikshavn to care for her sister’s brother-in-law’s children.  He had become a widower and had 4 young children.  She knew him very well and the next thing she knew she was married to him. 

That’s how two sisters married two brothers and how my mother had three female cousins who were double first cousins.  My great aunt Olivia and great uncle Julius were my mother’s favorite relatives and she would holiday with them every year. Olivia was 10 years older than Gunda but they were very close as sisters.  Within a few years my grandparents moved to Aalborg but the family ties were strong and visits to each other’s homes were frequent.

Even though my grandmother married quite late in life, she was in her late 30’s, there was genuine love and sympathy between the couple as well as a shared sense of humour.  My mother tells many stories of how they would prank each other and tease each other and really the only noise in the house was their laughter and the clatter of children’s feet.  There was never any yelling or quarrelling.  Mom can only remember one time when her dad let out some swear words, that was the day when he set off to work after his breakfast, opened the door, exclaimed “For Fanden!” and slammed the door.  He went back to the kitchen table and poured another cup of coffee while the kids and Gunda asked why he wasn’t going to work.  “You won’t be going anywhere today.”  He said.  They all ran to the window.  Snow had come down overnight and was now knee deep after a wonderful spring Sunday the day before.  Mom said it was the only day in her working career where she was late to work.

I can just picture such a family scene.  Because of Gunda og Johs my mother’s demeanor has always mirrored their quiet way of being and our own home was likewise strife free.  Love and admiration go out to my beloved grandmother on this day, her birthday.