It's in our genes!

Since it's Mother's Day, my mom and I were looking through old family photos this afternoon. I asked to borrow these three pictures, of women who seriously influenced me growing up. In the stories of them lies the origins of my love of the outdoors, and they are stories and traditions that I want to share with my kids.

The first is my mom's mom, my Grandma Little, or Gertie as everyone called her. She was a career nurse, a wife, mother and grandmother. Very "proper" for her day, but she was also the original outdoorswoman in my life. Living on the river, she loved it all - hiking, camping, boating, fishing, gardening, snowshoeing, cross country skiing, campfires, animal watching and tracking, hunting for wild edibles... and she very often took us on adventures with her, along with a thermos of hot chocolate or juice. She was always teaching us about the natural world, and she made time on our outings to stop for a break, and to just sit and talk. About what we were doing or saw, or about life in general. I do the same thing with my kids. Gertie and I didn't get along very well when we were "off the dirt", but we had some wonderful heart-to-hearts when we were out in the wild or tending her garden or cooking together. Conversations like that are something I truly cherish about spending time outdoors and in the kitchen with my own kids.

The second is my Great Aunt Mary, Gertie's older sister. I don't have any personal memories of her, but my Grandma used to regale us with stories of Mary's adventures. She was the family tomboy of that generation, and Gertie always spoke admiringly of her. Hunting, trapping, backpacking, serving oversees in WW2 NOT as a nurse ... Her life seemed like one big adventure to me and I recall thinking many times, "I want to be just like her when I grow up!"

I can't find a picture of my Great Great Aunt Edith, but she was a third huge influence on me growing up. My dad's Great Aunt, she was a missionary in the Amazon or Africa in the 1800s, and she died there of malaria or small pox or something. That's specific, isn't it? A picture of  Edith hung in my Grandma Symonds house, and I loved hearing stories of her when I was a child, but I can't remember any of the details. She may been a staunch traditional religious zealot, who only ever went on one expedition, for all I know. It doesn't matter. As a child, I imagined her as a world traveler. A woman who, not unlike Amelia Earhart, bucked societal norms, and lived a life of adventurer, exploring the deepest depths of the jungle.

These woman helped fuel my imagination and early outdoor adventures. They weren't the only ones, but the were three of the most important, because they were women in my vary own clan. I never became a world traveler, but in world where I often felt ostracized because I wasn't a girly-girl, I felt a connection with these relatives. It felt like I was following a family tradition. Their spirit is something that lived in my grandmothers and that I lives within me too. Theirs are stories that I want my daughter to hear. I suspect that her blossoming love of nature will continue to grow, but even it if doesn't, I hope that she inherits some of their spirit, drive and dedication to staying true to who they are. After all, it's our the genes!

Happy Mothers Day!
bpj