“Memory is a child walking along a seashore. You never can tell what small pebble it will pick up and store away among its treasured things.”
- Pierce Harris
Family is a beautiful gift. I have always loved growing up in a large family. Though it is undeniably hard at times, I can’t imagine life any different. Maybe this is the reason why I am so proud of having a large extended family. Growing up, I would always brag that my mother had “eleven siblings”. Man, you should have seen the reactions I would get. Yet I’m sure you all have, at one point or another, received the same response. Our large family reminds me of my family: though it is hard at times, though there can be rifts, it all comes down to the fact that each and everyone of us is irreplaceable. Yes, family is a beautiful gift, and we have four people to thank for this one.
The Grandmothers
“Intense love does not measure, it just gives.”
The Grandmothers
“Intense love does not measure, it just gives.”
-Blessed Mother Teresa
Nana. She is the great-grandparent I remember the most. Strong, beautiful, and wise she always reminded me of a forties movie star. Though as I slowly learned her story from the family, I realized that her life was the antithesis of glamour. Yet, Nana possessed a strong sense of grace, confidence, and exquisiteness that I tried, and still try, to emulate. I remember going over to her house with Maureen “for tea and a sleepover” every visit to the Falls. Her warm, welcoming house matched her simplicity. I always loved her teacups. They reminded me of her: delicate and beautiful…just perfect. I felt like a princess every time she poured me tea in one of those China cups. Nana would then finish filling the fragile cup with milk and sugar, always ending the processes telling us in her striking accent that Maureen and I could add more sugar or milk if we wanted to. We never did. She had made it flawlessly, the perfect amount of each ingredient. That is how she lived her life. She performed simple, humble tasks perfectly in love. When I think of Nana I think of intense, pure love. I’ll never forget hearing each Sauvageau woman, on numerous occasions, stating that they would love to age as beautifully as Nana did. Why? Not only because she was the most stunning ninety year old you would meet, but also because of her indisputable obvious love for the people around her that shone through whenever you were in her presence. She loved her family to the utmost. When I think of our family I am reminded of Nana and her love. That amazing love was her gift to us.
“There is not in the world a kind of life more sweet and delightful than that of a continual conversation with God.”
Nana. She is the great-grandparent I remember the most. Strong, beautiful, and wise she always reminded me of a forties movie star. Though as I slowly learned her story from the family, I realized that her life was the antithesis of glamour. Yet, Nana possessed a strong sense of grace, confidence, and exquisiteness that I tried, and still try, to emulate. I remember going over to her house with Maureen “for tea and a sleepover” every visit to the Falls. Her warm, welcoming house matched her simplicity. I always loved her teacups. They reminded me of her: delicate and beautiful…just perfect. I felt like a princess every time she poured me tea in one of those China cups. Nana would then finish filling the fragile cup with milk and sugar, always ending the processes telling us in her striking accent that Maureen and I could add more sugar or milk if we wanted to. We never did. She had made it flawlessly, the perfect amount of each ingredient. That is how she lived her life. She performed simple, humble tasks perfectly in love. When I think of Nana I think of intense, pure love. I’ll never forget hearing each Sauvageau woman, on numerous occasions, stating that they would love to age as beautifully as Nana did. Why? Not only because she was the most stunning ninety year old you would meet, but also because of her indisputable obvious love for the people around her that shone through whenever you were in her presence. She loved her family to the utmost. When I think of our family I am reminded of Nana and her love. That amazing love was her gift to us.
“There is not in the world a kind of life more sweet and delightful than that of a continual conversation with God.”
- Brother Lawrence
Grandma Smith. What a woman. I unfortunately only have one memory of this strong woman. Yet I am so thankful for the memory and I treasure it and replay it often in my mind’s eye as to never forget. It was the “The First and Only Annual Sauvageau Family Christmas in July”. I must have been only three or four at the time. We were all in Grandpa Rene and Grandma Anne’s “old” house on Center Street eating lunch together in their screened in veranda. I had just gone up to the table of food and messily plopped potato salad and chips onto my paper plate. I turned from the table, timidly looking for a place to sit. “Come here Claire”. I almost dropped my mess of a plate. It was Grandma Smith, better known to me as “Grandma’s Mother”. I looked at her shyly. She was sitting in her wheelchair, a paper plate on her lap, a fork in her right and a rosary in her left. I was surprisingly unafraid to sit next to her. Her voice was so soft and unassuming. Complete peace. I sat on the floor beside her wheelchair, glancing up at her in between bites. It felt like I was sitting on earth looking up to heaven at a saint. It seemed as if she had a constant halo around her head. All of a sudden she spoke. “Claire, stand up”. I stood. “This is for you”. It was a stuffed animal. A small, white kitten with a pink lace bow tied daintily around its neck with soft brown eyes. “Thank you”, I replied. I sat back down, holding the kitten and finishing my plate of food. Now every time I looked up at her she would smile, and I would smile. I treasure that memory. I am a firm believer of when you pray, it shows in your life and through your actions. What better witness do we have of this than our Grandmother Smith. She always held a prayer in her heart and was more than willing to share it with others around her. Her amazing strength in prayer was her gift to us.
The Grandfathers
“What we are today comes from our thoughts of yesterday. Yet our present thoughts build our life for tomorrow.”
Grandma Smith. What a woman. I unfortunately only have one memory of this strong woman. Yet I am so thankful for the memory and I treasure it and replay it often in my mind’s eye as to never forget. It was the “The First and Only Annual Sauvageau Family Christmas in July”. I must have been only three or four at the time. We were all in Grandpa Rene and Grandma Anne’s “old” house on Center Street eating lunch together in their screened in veranda. I had just gone up to the table of food and messily plopped potato salad and chips onto my paper plate. I turned from the table, timidly looking for a place to sit. “Come here Claire”. I almost dropped my mess of a plate. It was Grandma Smith, better known to me as “Grandma’s Mother”. I looked at her shyly. She was sitting in her wheelchair, a paper plate on her lap, a fork in her right and a rosary in her left. I was surprisingly unafraid to sit next to her. Her voice was so soft and unassuming. Complete peace. I sat on the floor beside her wheelchair, glancing up at her in between bites. It felt like I was sitting on earth looking up to heaven at a saint. It seemed as if she had a constant halo around her head. All of a sudden she spoke. “Claire, stand up”. I stood. “This is for you”. It was a stuffed animal. A small, white kitten with a pink lace bow tied daintily around its neck with soft brown eyes. “Thank you”, I replied. I sat back down, holding the kitten and finishing my plate of food. Now every time I looked up at her she would smile, and I would smile. I treasure that memory. I am a firm believer of when you pray, it shows in your life and through your actions. What better witness do we have of this than our Grandmother Smith. She always held a prayer in her heart and was more than willing to share it with others around her. Her amazing strength in prayer was her gift to us.
The Grandfathers
“What we are today comes from our thoughts of yesterday. Yet our present thoughts build our life for tomorrow.”
-Buddha
I sadly do not have any memories of my great-grandfathers. However this is where the importance of a memory comes into play. Because I never met my great-grandfathers, I always make it a point to ask any family member that met them to tell me stories of these two men. I listen intently, creating pictures of them in my head. I have an idea of what these two men were like, and I have you all to thank for that. With this said, I would like to make two points. Primarily, I am extremely glad that this blog was created and thank you to all those who have been writing and I would like to encourage anyone who hasn’t to take a half hour or so and remember your grandparents- they deserve it. Being the youngest grandchild that is able to remember that generation I cannot stress enough how important your stories are, not only for me but for the younger grandchildren. Stories, especially about loved ones, are so essential to discovering who you are, what you believe in, and an appreciation for the past. It truly brings a family closer together. Secondly, I would like to emphasize that we should be writing about the present, updating each other from time to time. I have always thought it unfortunate that I have no tangible memories of my great-grandfathers, yet I remind myself I have the gift of their stories you all have given to me. I want the same for the younger grandchildren and the generations to come. We are literally, spread all throughout the country and this site is a wonderful opportunity to fill each other in with what is going on in our hectic yet fun-filled lives. I encourage you all to do so. I also guarantee it will bring us closer together and fulfill the gifts our beautiful grandparents have given us: a sense of unity and love.
I sadly do not have any memories of my great-grandfathers. However this is where the importance of a memory comes into play. Because I never met my great-grandfathers, I always make it a point to ask any family member that met them to tell me stories of these two men. I listen intently, creating pictures of them in my head. I have an idea of what these two men were like, and I have you all to thank for that. With this said, I would like to make two points. Primarily, I am extremely glad that this blog was created and thank you to all those who have been writing and I would like to encourage anyone who hasn’t to take a half hour or so and remember your grandparents- they deserve it. Being the youngest grandchild that is able to remember that generation I cannot stress enough how important your stories are, not only for me but for the younger grandchildren. Stories, especially about loved ones, are so essential to discovering who you are, what you believe in, and an appreciation for the past. It truly brings a family closer together. Secondly, I would like to emphasize that we should be writing about the present, updating each other from time to time. I have always thought it unfortunate that I have no tangible memories of my great-grandfathers, yet I remind myself I have the gift of their stories you all have given to me. I want the same for the younger grandchildren and the generations to come. We are literally, spread all throughout the country and this site is a wonderful opportunity to fill each other in with what is going on in our hectic yet fun-filled lives. I encourage you all to do so. I also guarantee it will bring us closer together and fulfill the gifts our beautiful grandparents have given us: a sense of unity and love.
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