The Bridget Cross
The intricately woven straw decoration that brighten churches throughout Britain at the time of Harvest Festival have their origins not in the christian religion but in the beliefs and the ideas stretching aback into prehistory.
The celebration of the harvest is steeped in legend and mythology, and centres around the story of Ceres the Earth Mother, goddess of all that grows out of the earth.
This is based on the theory that women once had complete control over production of food and distribution of services and supplies. As this legend is the same in every country around the globe it is probably more than a theory.
In 1973 in England is was still the custom in some areas of Britain for farmers to leave a row of wheat standing in the fields at the end of the harvest in the belief that bad luck will befall them if it is cut. The legend is that Ceres hides in the corn and to avenge what happened to her.
In some parts of England at least until 1900 as sheaf of corn would be left in the fields, and while it stood there no one was allowed to go into the field. When the sheaf was taken out, women and children were allowed to enter and glean through the stubble.
In another part of the country the last row of corn used to be beat down to the ground by the reapers who shouted, ‘There she is! Hit her.” And, “Knock her to the ground” – also “Don’t let her get away” – basically attempt to make the female creative energy from the remaining corn go back to the earth so the field would be abundant the following year.
It should be noted this book was produced by the AA. It goes on to say many divisive things in amongst normal things so kids don’t realise – or parents.
So who is it that is filtering your letters? Is it your solicitor son? Is it your daughter, my step-mother? If they feel that not telling me where you are and how you are doing is the right thing to do then they seriously need to look at their moral compasses. However, I accept that they feel that you need protecting from me for some reason.
I recently heard you had dementia and that they have moved you to a home. This explains why you didn’ t respond to my last letters. Nana, I’m so sorry I had to remove myself from my upbringing in such a way that the distance was always necessary. Between distance and poverty my visits were few and far between but the love you showed me grew in force and lives in my genes today.
I’m not interested in money. You and I spoke about it when I was a little girl. See I’m not the biological grand daughter. Not being my Mum’s daughter made it easier to understand why she treated me the way she did. You made me see that in a forgiving way.
So when the rest of my siblings got an early inheritance twenty years ago (yes I know) I didn’t say a word to anyone about it. Nor did I feel any differently about you because you still took the time to know me and be concerned about my life and then my children.
Family estrangement being like a piece of catgut string which has been stretched to atomic dimensions. It’s lines of attraction become so thin it’s impossible to see the connection but the pull is still there. Contary to how they, my parents, sign the seasonal cards I’ve not spoken to either of them for decades.
I recognised that it is a good thing Mum did for me. Introducing me to and allowing me to know her fantastic mum. Strong, beautiful and independent. You lost Granddad early on and never remarried. Never even had another love interest.You then worked through to retirement. Successfully buying your home and securing your future and helping to secure your childrens’. A perfect role model.
As a child, I remember running across the road for you to get your fags. No 6. Blue and white packet. I remember walking into the smoky, sicky, woody, alchoholly, smelly, Falstaff pub to get those cigarettes like it was yesterday. Doesn’t feel like it was over forty years ago.
You were made to stop smoking years ago but it still defines you. I expect that you have your face on too. You taught me about beauty. You taught me that people like to be able to view something pretty.
Your protection of me during Mum’s rages will never be forgotten. I can still feel the relief. The safety of being around someone who didn’t hate me. I have missed the loving feeling and your brutal honesty. I loved feeling I had someone on my side.
Nana you would love my Grand daughter. She makes my heart happy. She is delightful with gorgeous green, shining eyes and a gorgeous smile that shows the world the love she is shown daily. Izzy brings me such happiness that sometimes I really feel like I’m going to burst. Often I’m wiping tears of happiness just watching her.
Strong willed with fine, curly hair and a very generous nature. They’ve called her Isabella but I call her Izzy. Izzy and I are real pals. Partners in crime. Her mother, my daughter, looks on at our antics with a beautiful smile of grace and love. The madonna for sure. I am blessed in many ways. I’m now able to be the great Grandma you and Nanny showed me to be.
Thank you. I was and always will be grateful x