Visit with Great Gramma Babcock

Recently my mother and I spent a few days with my grandmother. Gramma had spent a few days in the hospital and wanted some company, so Nonny and I packed up Mielle and drove up north to visit. It was such a peaceful intimate time together. I don't believe I have ever had such quiet time with Gramma before in my whole life. I've always been at her house during a holiday or other large gathering. It was very special getting to share my daughter with her. Mielle was her charming self and impressed us all by beginning to walk while at Great Gramma's house. It was very special watching Mielle explore the house I played in as a child...

I recently started knitting and was pleased to get lots of quiet time to knit in while visiting Gramma. After observing my knitting for awhile, Gramma gave me an afghan she had knit years ago as well as her collection of knitting needles and a great big lovely stash of yarn. She is no longer able to do much with her arms and was so pleased to see me using her supplies.



Being the sentimental fool that I am I immediately wrapped up in the new afghan to knit, and nursed my daughter.



It was lovely being wrapped in the labor of Gramma's hands...

Gramma lives up north, in the woods..... where it snows, a lot.

I took a number of crisp frosty walks out in the snow around the house. Her home is nestled in among birches, maples and oaks which are a glorious sight in the fall.

However in the winter it is the evergreens that impress. Their great spreading branches become draped in snow. Animals track across her quiet backyard and take shelter under the heavily laden trees.



It is easy to imagine magical faeries making their homes within the splendor of the woods.



the joy of finding a throne for Jack Frost to sit on in the morning after a long night's work, I imagine that he sits to enjoy the sunrise.....



Deeper in the woods the branches remain undisturbed holding the outline of snow across their limbs. The sunlight came peaking out, to the infuse the snow with glimmering light, a dazzling specktacle.



Chilled I tromped back inside, my socks tucked up over my pants to keep them dry. Silly looking it may be, but effective when you have no winter boots on hand. Nonny waited at the window with Mielle in her arms, trees reflecting their stark branches across their faces. Their breath steaming up the window, they smiled welcoming me back into the cozy warmth of the kitchen.


In the kitchen we gather, to eat and to talk. The chatter of four generations mingling with the smells of homemade turkey soup, bubbling on the stove. Gramma's gentle smile contrasting against Mielle's constant babble of sound. Nonny humming as she washed dishes at the sink, looking out into the winter wonderland in the backyard. And me, absorbing the experience, listening and enjoying it all.

Each of us, so different and yet so much alike.... We leave a different imprint behind us with a lasting impact. Our hands reflect these similarites and differences, each of us so distinct from one another, but yet similar, overall.


We are all of us, women with hands that have expressed love, that have worked hard, that have known pain, and have touched one another. My daughter's hands may not yet show the impact of much life and my Grandmother's hands may show the burden of many years lived, but in a way, their hands are my hands.... as they were, and as they will be.

I'm just so glad to have been there to see them touch.