I love being ‘Gwennie’s boy’.
In fact, as a product of Western culture, I am a bit unusual. I love discovering who I am by reflecting on whose I am. None of this autonomous individualism for me. Be it Gwennie’s boy, or Barby’s husband, or Diane’s brother, or Micah’s grandpa, or Bethany’s father, or Michael’s mentor, or Dwi’s colleague, or Geoff’s friend … on and on it goes … and then, most significant of all, as a creature of the Creator, a child of the Father and because of this, being knitted together into a family with other such creatures and children from across the globe. That is who I am. It is the sum total of these relationships that gives me my sense of identity.
But back to being Gwennie’s boy…
On the Saturday
As my mother’s 90th birthday draws near, our minds have gone back to her 80th celebrations. Having first contacted the Department of Conservation, we had gone up to the region where her ancestors settled (Te Arai, 90min north of Auckland) and joined with others in planting an entire field in shrubs and trees. 80 was the goal, but it ended up being closer to 1080. Here are some photos from a decade ago…
Just a few kilometers from the field being planted is the cemetery in which my mother’s great grandfather, John Hunter Penman, is buried.
Someone among us had the bright idea of driving back up to Te Arai to see how the trees and shrubs are doing, a decade later. So this is what we did last Saturday, with a few in the next generation coming along with us. 90min became 120min (thanks to the increased traffic), but eventually we found our way to Te Arai Point for a wander on the beach and some lunch. The spectacular photo of the beach is not mine, but the one of my mother skipping stones/shells across the water most certainly is.
We did find our way back to the field. Our little plants had all grown up and are now joined by a whole lot of gorse. It all looked a bit messy – and felt more than a bit cold. [NB: I think this photo is taken from somewhere near the top of the earlier photo of the field, looking back down on what was planted].
On the Sunday
My mother loves her photos and, with a few weeks to go, she noticed that the calendar had an upcoming day in it when all eight of her great grandchildren were in the same city at the same time. One boy and then seven little girls! So, you guessed it, everyone needed to be rounded-up for a photo. First it was a photo of the group of eight little ones – then it was this one with great-grandma Gwen (GGG) included and other smaller groupings and then, finally, one of my mother with the youngest one, Liliana.
Lovely memories for her – and for us.
nice chatting
Paul
That last photo, in particular, is just gorgeous!
Agreed, Heather – now one of my all-time favourite photos.
Hope you both are doing well.
Paul
The Windsors (or at least the Windsor daughters) are multiplying fast! Happy grand parenting 🙂
Enjoyed your introduction here Paul… Something Brian S taught me was that we're defined by our relationships… something you so clearly show here 🙂 Cheers, F
Thanks, Ken – you are welcome to try and catch up on the grandchildren front! It was good to see you briefly the other day.
Paul
Yes, Fred, Brian and Harold Turner – with his 'bag of marbles' vs 'spider web' pictures of collective identity have both been helpful over the years. Hope you are doing well. Paul