It wasn't a Christmas gift. Part of what made it so special was that it came wholly unexpectedly in September, a month of no particular significance to anyone in our family.
I was ten years old, in fifth grade, just following my afternnoon routine: a bus ride home from school with two of my brothers, a hike up the hill to my grandmother's for a snack of Cocoa Krispies and a Make Room For Daddy television break, and then the walk along the gravel road that led from her house to ours.
On the particular day that I recall, however, my grandmother handed me an envelope as the boys tromped off to the den. I opened it eagerly, unable to imagine what it might contain, and found a card on which was elegantly written, in my grandmother's beautiful hand, an invitation for me to accompany her on a week long trip to Williamsburg, Virginia in October.
My grandmother and I took several trips together, and for years I visited her and my grandfather in Florida each spring. But there was nothing quite like that first pint-sized adventure. We took the overnight train from Cincinnati -- my first stay in a sleeping compartment. We spent the week in the Williamsburg Inn -- a stately and sumptuous hotel if ever there was one. And we visited all the historical spots -- the Governor's Mansion, Bruton Parish Church, Jamestown, Berkeley Plantation (complete with kitty), the shops in the Historical District -- which I soaked up with my tri-cornered hat perched upon my head. I believe that we also made several stops at the Raleigh Tavern for meals; it became my favorite dining choice after my first roast beef dinner there.
I also remember with gratitude the afternoon that I spent sprawled on the hotel room floor, playing imaginary games with my crayons as people. I was exhausted from the nonstop sightseeing and my grandmother wisely suggested a complete break from historical houses and tours. I am sure there were places that she had researched and was sorry to miss, but she was more concerned that I enjoy my first taste of travel than that she herself visit every last 18th century library in the former Colony of Virginia.
More than 40 years have passed since that week in which the autumn colors welcomed us to the land of "Give me liberty or give me death!" But it was one of those weeks that made me who I am today ~
a history teacher, a mom who has carefully planned jaunts across the country and across the ocean to accomodate the needs and energy levels of children and teenagers, and a woman who loves to purchase a ticket and pack a bag and head off to just about anywhere!
My grandmother is 98 and didn't recognize me when I visited her a few weeks ago. I hope that illuminated somewhere in still-accessible recesses of her mind are memories of a ten-year-old girl in a red pleated skirt and a tri-cornered hat skipping down the Duke of Gloucester Street in Colonial Williamsburg.
(I wrote this for Judi's December Artsy Essay Contest!)
11 comments:
It does seem that you started out molding your character at a very early age. What a wonderful grandmother! Lisa :-]
Wonderful!
This entry was a reminder to me of how important it is to take those vacations and create those memories for our children... no matter how difficult it may seem from a time and money perspective.
My parents took my daughter to Williamsburg when she was 10. (They take each grandchild on a special trip, alone, when they turn 10.) She treasures her album of that trip. She was also very excited by the fancy hotel and the swimming pool. That's neat that you remember it so well 40 years later.
Oh... this was so beautiful. What an exquisite memory and what a gift, it still influences who and what you are today. This is truly extraordinary and I am so glad that you chose to share this precious memory with us.
from a fellow gypsy with wandering feet,
judi
That was a positively lovely entry! My Granny, who passed away a couple of years ago, got to the point where she didn't recognize me. Then, about a week before she passed, everything came back to her for just a few short days! I mean, she hadn't even spoken in years because her alzheimers had progressed so much, and suddenly for a few days she was her old self! Then, one day she just slid back into her vegetable state took one deep breath, and was gone......this entry made me think of her.......thank you!
Tracy
How blessed you are to have such a wonderful grandmother, and how cool that she was so responsible for who you are today. Bless her heart, I hope she feels your love. Pamela
Grandmothers bring something so special to a young girl's life. Thank you for sharing. I thoroughly enjoyed the reading. Pennie
http://journals.aol.com/blondepennierae/APenniesWorth
God bless our grandmothers, every one. And you for telling this lovely story. Mrs. L
lovely memories.
I really enjoyed this. Magical.
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