COLUMN: Tales from the Gravel Ridge – Treasures of memories of footsteps

A quote by the poet T.S. Eliot caught my attention recently: “The mature poet, in the operations of his mind, works like the chemist. He is aware, not that he wants to say something, but that there is something to be said.”

The famous Canadian poet Michael Ondaatje in his poem “Estuaries” in a recent book of poems, entitled “A Year of Last Things” makes the following observation: “So the past becomes an undiscovered country”.

I lay no claim whatsoever to being a poet, or for that matter, a chemist. What none of us should take for granted however, is the capacity that we have for remembering, be it events, experiences of many sorts, and most importantly, the people whose paths have crossed ours. Nor should we assume that those connections have no relevance for us today.

To my mind, it can be said without exaggeration that all of us have access to virtually unlimited memories and recollections, along with photographs, records and documentation of such undiscovered bits and pieces. Much like the rabbit in the children’s book, The Velveteen Rabbit, this treasure trove, which all of us possess to a greater or lesser degree, could come alive for ourselves and possibly for others. We might be surprised at the insights we could gain if we opened our minds to receive what this newly uncovered information and these new insights, were begging us to accept.

The footsteps of my childhood and during my early adult life in Rosengard carry an enormous wealth of information. These “footsteps” are both literal and metaphorical. And those footsteps may also have an evocative effect on others.

When I think of the footsteps, both literally and figuratively that my parents, Katarina (Sudermann) Falk and my father, Cornelius Falk, took during their respective lifetimes, I am astounded at the wisdom they brought to all of us. The riches they showered on us revealed an abundance of strength and courage in the face of countless privations. Even more fundamental to their relationship to us, the members of their family, was the love they showered on us in countless ways.

Both of my parents had experienced the deaths of members of their families under devastating circumstances caused by tuberculosis and typhus. My maternal grandfather died of tuberculosis when my mother was eight years old, and when she was 17 years of age her mother, her older sister, and her younger sister died during the typhus epidemic. When my father was a young man he worked as a conscientious objector as a medic for the Russian Red Cross during the First World War, caring for the injured, the sick, and the dying as they were being transported by train from the frontlines to hospitals farther removed from the war zone. These experiences were so traumatic, that my father never spoke of them.

I owe it to the memory of our parents to seek to live my life with the grace, and the sense of courage and resilience that they portrayed in their respective lives. I saw those traits in my parents’ lives throughout their earthly journey.

In addition to observing the lives of my parents, I also saw numerous life lessons in the lives of the various members of my family, including subsequent generations.

It goes without saying that others too have had an immense impact on my life. My husband, an only child of a marriage that didn’t last, found his way into my very large immediate and extended family with grace, and I might add, a significant degree of courage. I am grateful for the insights I have received from Bernie’s journey and for the love shown me by my late mother-in-law, and by the members of her family.

Needless to say, the people of the community in which I grew up continue to bless my life for the role they played in my development and evolution. How could I possibly forget my fellow grade one students who along with me began our formal education under the instruction of Mr. Jakob Penner. His footsteps and those of my fellow classmates continue to echo in my life. How could it be any other way.

And so, in today’s turbulent world, the words of Tennyson in the poem Ulysses come to mind:

“Come, my friends,

‘T is not too late to seek a newer world.”