Life is what we make of it.....

In an earlier post (here), I mentioned that I was transcribing

letters written to me by my grandmother. They were written in the 

1970's, about the time that I was deciding on a college and what

I planned to do with my life. She shared her own hopes and dreams

with me and reflected on her life. 

I mentioned (here) the poetry of Edgar A Guest, a poet

that I discovered sometime last year. I recently learned, that my grandmother 

was a fan as well. Today, I found this book in my postbox.

My aunt sent me a cherished book of my grandmothers,

'When Day Is Done' with a note of a few family favourites. 

My grandmother purchased it for herself when she was a University

student in 1927. She kept it by her side thru her lifetime,

sharing many of her favourite poems with her children.

My aunt sent along a note for me to read

one of her personal favourites, 'Looking Back'.

 It is interesting, how things evolve. My aunt says 'it is a sign'. This is a phrase that comes up a lot in family conversation much to the dismay of Mr. H. I have lots more to say on that one...but will save it for another time :)

How did this all come about? It started with a Facebook message. My blogging friend, Lisa, mentioned a town that she grew up in which happened to be where my grandmother had lived. I wondered if they could have been neighbours and went off to find the letters. I often found over the years, that when I picked up one letter, I had to read them all. That is when I decided to transcribe them for the family to read. My aunt has been delighted and touched. She says it is like having her mother with her again, for a brief time. My grandmother passed away 35 years ago. My daughters are getting to know my grandmother for the first time and my sisters are equally happy to have her in their presence once again. I have Lisa to thank for this result, just one of the many joys of blogging.

I have a feeling that the story will not end here. I am still transcribing and with each page another little

mystery is put before me. Oh, the places I have been and have yet to go!

I will leave you with one of the many poems that I enjoyed reading. 

I expect I will be back with more.

Life Is What We Make It

Life is a jest;

Take the delight of it.

Laughter is best;

Sing through the night of it.

Swiftly the tear

And the hurt and the ache of it

Find us down here;

Life must be what we make of it.

Life is a song;

Dance to the thrill of it.

Grief's hours are long,

And cold is the chill of it.

Joy is a man's need;

Let us smile for the sake of it.

This be our creed:

Life must be what we make of it.

Life is a soul;

The virtue and the vice of it,

Strife for a goal,

And man's strength is the price of it.

Your life and mine,

The bare bread and the cake of it

End in this line:

Life must be what we make of it.

From When Day Is Done

by Edgar A. Guest

c. 1921

Best wishes to one and all for a wonderful weekend
and to those of you celebrating Mother's Day on Sunday,
I hope it is an exceedingly happy one!


Jeanne xxx