Princess Ditto

Princess Ditto

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Dreams live on

When I was 26 or so, I used to go swimming at a place they called pinion. This fabulous swimming hole was about 10 miles from town and it was just beautiful. The river rocks used to fascinate me to no end. In fact I loaded up a bunch of them and built a rockin flower bed.

That's what I called it...rockin.

I even got hired by a housing contractor to bring in a bunch of them for Oliver Stone's cabin, that was being built outside of Telluride...they were beautiful and they made his fireplace a site to see. I think he got his $90's worth.


I used to go swimming at pinion and on the way in you passed an old cabin that was falling down. I noticed several years in a row, that there were lilacs blooming every spring when I would take my dogs out to swim in the creek. It was too cold for a wimp like me...the water was fresh off of the mountain. I had to wait till mid July before I could force myself in. I could however sit for hours up there by the creek, there were only peaceful sounds and you could think without interruption for days I suppose.

Every time I would drive by the old cabin I would get a little sad...I wondered who lived there? Were they happy? Where did they go? It was after all, a beautiful place to live.

Jump ahead 10 years...I found out who used to live there.

My mom and her family. Her mom died shortly after they moved out of the cabin and moved into town. Grandma Ellen died of leukemia in 1953, my mom was 7.

This is the latest thing that my mom has sent to me to haunt me till my dying days. Funny thing is...the crazy bitch doesn't know that I used to hang out at the cabin. My Auntie told me, years after my time up there that, that is where they lived for a while.

Dreams live on

The walls of the old old cabin were weathered soft and brown.
The creek still sang by the doorway.
The fences were crumbling down.
The plowed ground taken over by the wild brush.
A dream here that proved to be in vain.
But straight and tall by the doorway the lilacs were
blooming again.
You could tell by the look of the cabin the years had been
many and long.
But a dream still lived in the lilacs long after the dreamer was gone.

Ellen Davis 1916-1953
My Grandma Ellen was a bit of a poet in her time. She had a few of her poems published. Although I couldn't tell you where.


♥georgie♥ said...

wow what a story...lilacs are such pretty flowers and that poem is just awesome!

♥georgie♥ said...

oooo and I soooo the blog look! did M do this? gawd that girl flat out rocks!!!!

♥georgie♥ said...

pffft my typist is off today....
I LOVE yanno ♥ the blog look lol

Marilyn said...

So your telling me that the house that you used to pass by and wonder about is actually the house your mother lived in as a child and you find this out as an adult along with recieving that incredible poem?
That my friend, is F'ing amazing.
I want to go there!
Is the house still there?
What color were the lilacs?
I love this post!

jill jill bo bill said...

Okay have you read The Shack? because of this post you need to read it. That is what it reminds me of. TOO cool.

preTzel said...

That place sounds so heavenly. I'd love to visit and dip my toes in fresh - mountain water. :)

DysFUNctional Mom said...

Oh wow. What an amazing story!

Ronda's Rants said... the poem and I was thinking the same thing as Jill! Have a great weekend!

asthmagirl said...

The poem is beautiful. Your mom continues to be a nut job but I'm thrilled that you're not letting her take beautiful memories from you.

You're an awfully strong person!

Rhonda said...

So, does this mean, perhaps, that it is yours? Was it land that she owned? That would be a real kick in the gut to your mom, wouldn't it!? lol

Dee from Downunder said...

Beautiful poem, and how ironic about the hut.

Z's Mom said...

WOW! Small world, huh?

Soxy Deb said...

Great poem. And the post leans slightly to the eerie. I love it.