Sunday, February 7, 2016

Avalon

When we reach a "certain age" and our parents have long left this world, we discover that fewer and fewer people knew them. Part of this may have to do with distance, as we spread out to new communities far from home. But that's not my story. For me, one who "stayed put," the reason fewer people knew them is simply because they, too, have aged and when they move on to another world, another thread of our connection with the past is broken.


I have often written about my friend Fran. I like that I can say my friend Fran, for she is. But she was, as Gypsy readers may remember, my mother's best friend, her lake-buddy from childhood and friend for life.

I call Fran the Lady of the Lake, which has many connections to the Arthurian legend and many adaptations, both in classical and contemporary works. I like Thomas Mallory's description. According to the ever-popular quickie source Wikipedia, Mallory, when looking at various texts for character inspiration, chose the best aspects of all the other Lady of the Lake characters in literature and legend, making his "Lady," (Nimue in his works), a compassionate, clever, strong willed, and sympathetic character. Nimue is a different kind of woman, one who does not shrink behind the male figures in her life. Instead, she is pragmatic, unflappable, and knowledgeable.

And this is Fran. All this plus fun and filled with joy.

My "Lady of the Lake" knows all the stories. Consider her a walking history text about Otsego Lake and Gaylord, the small up-north town she's been part of during summers all of her life. She knows the lake lore and who's who, who their family was, where they lived, how deep the lake is, when the ice goes out. She knows the name of practically every person who owned a cottage in the area where she and our family spent summers since the 1920s.


She remembers the name of the handyman who took care of the property when she and mom were kids and recalls when they filled the swamp I played in as a kid.



Some of my favorite memories are recent ones, walking down to Fran's cottage. If she was outside, she'd greet me warmly and when I left walk out to say goodbye. In-between we would talk.


Her stories help complete my family history, a history long before my time. She remembers my grandmother -- the grandmother I never met -- canning in the summer, which meant that day could not be a play day for my mom or her sisters. "I wished the mothers would all do their canning on the same day," she told me. "Then we'd all have our work day but the rest of the time we could play!"


She recounts stories of how she and mom would sit at the end of the dock, singing their lungs out, Fran a soprano, Mom doing the harmony. Day or night -- it didn't matter.


She remembers when my aunt Gracie, then about four or five, accidentally locked my grandmother in the outhouse. The disappearance caused a major search in the woods of the little resort -- whatever happened to this mother of five children? (Grandma was found hours later, well after dark, with assistance from the family dog.) Then Fran would recall how she and mom would dress for their up-north dates to the movies, usually with one of the "local or the lake boys," and often as a friendly cheerful group. (After all, it wasn't all that easy to get into town in those days! Group activities had their advantages!)


She would throw back her head and laugh as she remembered how my mother used to embarrass her older sister, Iris, when a date called for downstairs. Both girls were upstairs, mom singing operatically. Then she'd stop mid-note and say, "Oh Iris, can't you be quiet!" Iris, of course, was suitably embarrassed.


Fran tells of how she and mom would knit their clothes for college. Then, with the fellows from the lake, walk on the beach and model them, taking photos along the way.


She remembers when the house next to where we live now had tennis courts and Mr. Groehn would leave them up, telling the kids he'd be glad to do so, as long as they didn't hurt things around the property.


Fran could tell me about the day when her mother, my grandmother and another neighbor -- all named "Minnie," women who never swam, got so hot on a summer day that the three of them went and sat in the lake. Together.


I learned about the families who lived in that half-mile strip of cottages, families who have long since departed, and how they formed a community of children who would play all day every summer (except for canning day).


It was always fun at Fran's cottage. When her daughter Linda and I were kids, we were sure to find a canasta game going on as Fran's mother, the ultimate Detroit Tigers fan, was glued to the radio. And of course there was plenty of  Barbie doll playing. I remember a drive to Traverse City, where Fran and her family lived off-summer to see another daughter, Mary Ellen, compete in the Michigan Junior Miss pageant. And, I don't know if it was Fran or Mom who came up with the idea of making space helmets for Linda's brother, Eddie, and me. But I remember those helmets.  And I won't forget the heat of tin foil covering a cardboard box worn on your head on a warm summer's day!


I also have a vague recollection of  Fran and Mom taking Eddie and me to some little train ride somewhere in the north. Neither Fran, Eddie or I could ever remember where it was. But Eddie and I sure didn't look like we were having much fun that day. Oddly enough, I suspect our mothers were having a ball, because they always did!


When I visited Fran at the lake, I would be just as likely to find her outside raking up the leaves or acorns as I would inside, checking out the news on TV. She'd tell me about her book club and bemoan the fact that most of her friends had died. After all, at 98, there aren't a lot left. "Make young friends," she advised me when I questioned her about her guidelines for retirement several years ago. Despite the fact that she had a number of friends from her book club and hospital volunteer work, it wasn't quite the same.


It was Fran who told me how my parents found the cottage we now have, about a half-mile from hers and how my mom asked her for her "approval" before they signed the papers. "Take it!" Fran said. And they did.

Fran. One of the last direct connections to my mom. The one who knew the stories and remembered them. One of the funniest, happiest, most serene, laid back, kind, delightful women I have ever known. A woman of grace, humor, love and joy. The real deal. A lot like mom.


I would always ask Fran to tell me the lake stories during our summer visits. I didn't care if she told the same one over and over because not only were they delightful, I wanted to be sure to remember them.


I hope I do, because I can't ask her to tell me again about singing on the dock or knitting a fall wardrobe. No more piecing together the past. No more selfies. Fran has moved on and my heart is more than a little bit broken. And I suspect not nearly as broken as those of Linda, Eddie, Mary Ellen and their families.

Avalon is the legendary island that the "Lady of the Lake" ruled, a spot to which King Arthur returned to recover from his wounds in battle. My Avalon is Otsego Lake, a place of "recovery" for all the stresses of life with its sparkling blue water, leafy woods and carpets of pine needles on the path. Next summer and for summers to come, I'll take the same walks, pass by Fran's cottage and when the kids are there, stop in. We'll have our stories, too, that we'll share.


But when I leave, I will always see in my mind the Lady of the Lake whose imprint on my life was as big as her heart, as joyful as her laugh and as much a treasure as any I can imagine.


I'd like to think that at this moment, Mom is rushing out from some heavenly spot and throwing her arms around Fran and saying, "What took you so long?! We have so much to catch up on!"


And Fran would throw her head back and laugh and say "Let's find a spot by the water. We've got songs to sing and stories to share!"


Let the stories go on forever. Just like Avalon.

27 comments:

Joanne Huffman said...

I'm so sorry for your loss. How wonderful that you have so many wonderful memories to comfort you.

Anonymous said...

What an awesome lady. She had such a profound effect on you.

Betsy@My Salvaged Treasures said...

What a beautiful tribute to Fran who touched your heart in so many ways.

I need orange said...

I'm so sorry for your loss.

Thank you for sharing her with us over the years.

Dr. Kathy McCoy said...

Oh, Jeanie, what a beautiful, heartbreaking, uplifting post! Fran was a blessing -- as a friend to your mother and your friend as well, a source of memories and stories that she gave to you to carry on. I so hope she and your mother are catching up and together forever in the world beyond ours.

anno said...

I'm so sorry, Jeanie. Like "I need orange," I have enjoyed getting to know her over the years. It is easy to see why you will miss her (and how much). And look at all the stories you have told: they will go on forever. Just like Avalon.

Janet said...

I didn't know Fran but I am in tears after reading your beautiful tribute to her. I'm so sorry she's gone but you have all those wonderful memories of her. You can keep them alive and pass them on to others...just as you've done here.

Friko said...

I really and sincerely hope you are writing some of these tales down right now, because you are bound to forget some of them and there will be no one else to tell them in future.

This blogpost is a good beginning. Enlarge on it and in the retelling you will find nuggets to warm your heart and bring back memories to hold close.

I am sorry you lost your friend, but that’s where we’re all headed and she had a very good innings.

Jeanie said...

What a special relationship you had with Fran. She left you with some very precious memories.

Ruffles and Roses said...

sad but what beautiful memories ......keep smiling for the lady of the lake .....

Angelsdoor * Penny said...

Dear Jeanie,
What a wonderful woman she was.. I am sorry your heart is hurting at the loss, but her memories will be with you forever. I really enjoyed reading about her life and your connection... I feel she touched so many lives, and am sure she influenced many... Sending blessings above to the lady of the lake..
And sending you a gentle hug.
fondly,
Penny

Victoria Zigler said...

What a beautiful and touching post.

I'm sorry for your loss, though glad she gave you so many memories and stories that you can look back on with fondness for however long you have left in this world yourself.

Mary Rose's said...

Oh, honey --!

I think you've written the best most loving goodbye I'll ever read.

And yes, we are awaited and will be welcomed.

In the meantime, we remember with joy.

Jemma@athomewithjemma said...

Beautiful, beautiful tribute to your friend.
What a difference she made in your life and those around her, sounds as though she was one in a million.
I am sorry for your loss and I wish that I would have known her too.

Jemma

Castles Crowns and Cottages said...

Dearest Jeanie! I had seen this very lovely post from my phone earlier on my lunch break but I wanted to revisit when I came home.

To read about such a vibrant life then AND NOW is so encouraging. Purpose and wonder at any age is a huge life lesson: LIVE LIFE to the fullest. You are very fortunate to call her your friend, for sure.

BE WELL! Anita

Kitty said...

What a wonderful tribute to a special lady. You remind me a lot of her with your creativity and love of life. I am sure you and her kids will continue the legacy.

shoreacres said...

That these processes of loss are a part of life don't make them any less poignant. My mother's friends all are gone now -- not surprising, really, given that she died five years ago, at 93. Only my aunt is left, and she'll be 90 in June. No matter where else I'd like to travel, or what I'd like to do, the first priority is a trip to visit here again. None of us is guaranteed another year, another season, but the odds increasingly stack up against us as time passes.

This is such a loving, delightful tribute. Thanks so much for sharing her with us -- and your wonderful relationship with her, too.

~*~Patty S said...

Beautiful tribute to your precious Fran who will live on in you.
So very sorry for your loss Jeanie ♥
Take Care oxo

Marilyn Miller said...

How special to have had this sweet lady in your life. Oh the stories are just treasures, each and everyone of them. How I loved the photos too. You are a lucky lady. Sending a hug, as I just know you are sad and will definitely miss her.

Angelsdoor * Penny said...

Dear Jeanie,
How very thoughtful of you to always remember me and take time to visit.
Thank you so much for your very kind words.
This was such a touching post...
blessings,
Penny

Mae Travels said...

This is very heartbreaking, and I'm very sorry to hear you have lost such a wonderful friend. Your memories are so beautiful and it's great that you choose to share them. The Jewish expression is "may her memory be a blessing." Thank you for writing this... from mae

Sally Wessely said...

Oh Jeanie, I can't imagine your sorrow and sadness right now. It is so incredibly hard to lose these dear friends that have been a mainstay in our lives and link to our childhoods and our parents.

I got chills as I read this beautiful tribute to this remarkable woman, a woman who was your mother's best friend, and a surrogate mom figure or beloved aunt for you. I cried when I finished reading it. The world is losing such gifts as these women from the generation our parents were members of pass away. They just don't make them like this anymore.

Your love and admiration for Fran came shining through as I read your words, admired the old photos you wove in with the later photos that capture what must have been the essence of The Lady of The Lake. Thank you for sharing her with us.


Joyful said...

An absolutely beautiful post. What a wonderful tribute to a wonderful lady. She looks and sounds like a true treasure. I'm sure your mama and she are having a good laugh now just like old times. You will remember them through your experiences, your stories, your photos and shared good times. xx

Lynne said...

Beautiful, tender, loving post Jeanie . . .
Thank you for "telling the story" . . . of Fran, your mom, the lake . . .
You write beautifully . . .

Lisa from Lisa's Yarns said...

I am so sorry for your loss. What a gift to have had this wonderful woman in your life for many years so she could help keep the memory of your mom alive. She looked like a beautiful lady that was full of life, so I can understand why she and your mom were such great friends. It's such a gift to have people around that remember those who have passed and can share more of their legacy with us - especially when the ones we lost left our lives far too early.

I think that another gift this woman likely gave you was a reminder of the importance of female friendships!

Barb said...

I love seeing Fran's smiling face. She actually reminds me of my own mother. I'm so sorry your wonderful friend and link to your past is gone, Jeanie. I think she'll live in your heart forever.

Tobi Britton*pinkpixieforest.blogspot.com said...

aw Jeanie, what a lovely story, memory and tribute to Fran! You are so lucky to have slowed down enough to actually enjoy her- most of us are running around with our attentions everywhere trying to keep up with this world that keeps going faster each day. I too spent summers in my family cabin in upstate New York- Mohegan Lake in Glen Spey. Loved it there! Used to fish. Thanks for bringing me back, and for your lovely comments on my jewelry blog!! xoxo Tobi

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