Saturday, September 22, 2007

More Poetry...

Who Is This Woman I Dearly Love?

Coming to America, that was their plan,
A new life together, leaving their past in Finland.

They came with ideas, big dreams and goals,
To settle down in Minnesota, why—who knows?

She was born to a gentleman, strong, quiet and handy,
But because of the Depression, times were tough—money scanty.

Her mother was pretty and adjusted just fine,
To having six kids, always giving of her time.

With father at work five days a week then weekends gone fishin’,
Mother was at home cleaning up and preparing meals in the kitchen.

Being born last, she was the second girl to four boys,
Although all were loved, she was the baby—their pride and joy.

When asked what her childhood home was like,
She answered, “Grey in color, big yard with a well-pump and fence on all sides.”

It saddened my heart to hear of their deaths,
First her sister so young, then a brother four years later, age twenty—God bless~

Her parents and family moved on best they could,
They leaned on each other like loving families should.

Not too long after violence broke out causing WWII,
Her mother very sick from the influenza flu.

Father died of old age not too soon after,
Then did go Mama, possibly of “broken-heart” failure.

The rest of the kids stayed in touch with one another,
Some went alone and some went together.

Some headed out west, others went to the east,
But she’s the only one living now, the others deceased.

There are many still left who branched off from her clan,
Don’t forget those families back in Finland.

Uncles, aunts, cousins abroad,
But the only one I know is her only child—seems odd.

With her immediate family now gone he makes time to call,
I too, come to see her; she’s part of me after all.

Without her stories and unconditional love,
I would have missed out on knowing her family—those now above.

She and I are “alike in so many ways”,
She tells me this often on our special days.

With my joy to read and interest to write,
She an editor during high school and wrote for the city of Duluth at night.

Her parents also creative and witty,
Mother Nummelin performed in theater; Father Heino having had his own business as a tailor within the city.

That’s not all we have in common—it’s true,
Our love for nature and animals shines through.

Who is this woman I dearly love so much,
If you guessed she’s my grandma—you’ve got the riddle touch.

Her name is Leila Helmi Heino, born March 30, 1918,
Forever, with all my love—your grand-daughter, Christine

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