I'm a day late, but I wanted to honour the poet who was one of my first inspirations. My Grandma. Born on Feb. 20, 1909, Mary Ramsay used to write poems in every birthday card, on gift tags, and for other special occasions, not just for me and our family, but for all of her friends too. In her 90s, she lived at The Medicine Tree Manor in High River and wrote poems for residents and staff alike.
This is a poem I wrote for her near the end of her life in 2004. My dad recently found the photo of her in her youth, near Wainwright where she grew up. She may be reciting a poem.
Ode to Mary Fish (Ramsay)
The days of summer started when the dog
Would dive into the creamery lagoon.
The car fully loaded for six week’s stay
Son kept the reeking pet from mother’s view.
The Aquarium cabin housed married Fish
And three young children happy to be free
From school. A seven-mile track to the lake
Stopped at slippery grass and saskatoon.
With the brakes set tight, the car stayed in place
Saved from rolling into an aspen tomb.
Kids in their bathing suits from morn ’til night
Neighbourhood games of rimoli or crib
Clear view of swimmers, eerie sounds of loons
For sweet moms’ sanity, this place was peace.
Water-based blessings, made the days seem pure
Simple times before youth burst forth to greet
Their mates. A mother strong to carry through.
The train delivers; her wounds recover.
Birth, death: time moves fast through years of struggle
The family grows and gathers round.
It will not come to her, this death this day.
In life she lays hands, of bridge, by chance.
To row the lake she dips oars in water.
A storm brings white caps past the windy bay
Look sharp, take heed, big wind, hold rail.
Oh, she has learned to ride rough waves before.
Now she rides those waves to another shore.
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