those unfamiliar pings…

MILDRED…

Sometimes I notice a feeling, an unfamiliar ping or see a fleeting image in my mind’s eye and I ask myself, does this belong to me? These sensations drive my ancestral research and creativity now.

She died before I could call her Grandma, so she is forever Mildred to me. The elusive woman who raised my mother and uncle on a farm in southeastern South Dakota and died in her late forties.

What would she have been like as a grandmother? On the left she is holding my Uncle Larry. I imagined me in her lap on the farm.

The mystery of Mildred’s life haunts me…there’s a time in the mid-1930s that she’s in Santa Cruz, California. I’m tugging on that thread to see what I can unravel.

Mildred’s Mom—NORA…

Nora Kyte Millette (1885-1940) was my great-grandmother. I layered my image over Nora’s…I think she’s rockin’ the big silver hoop earrings.

I’ve learned a lot about her life and her heartaches in the last few years. Nora has come alive to me through research, interviews, and Ancestry.com. During the mid-1930s, she made big sacrifices for Mildred, allowing her to leave the farm, go to high school an hour away in town, and live with her aunt and uncle.

Nora’s Mom—TERESA…

This is my 2nd great-grandmother Theresa Ringley Kyte (1858-1939). The resemblance is evident, we’re both in our late 40s in these photographs.

My mother always thought I resembled her side of the family. I didn’t think so when seeing pictures of Mildred, clearly I had to look further back to my great grandmothers.

When I see myself next to her I think about the commonalities of womanhood regardless of the time period. What did she dream about while hanging clothes out on the line for her family? She had ten children in eighteen years, that’s a lot of windy prairie clothesline time to be dreaming or worrying.

She is not the child that mirrors me, and yet when you put us side by side, there are definite similarities. It’s not in the shape of the mouth but the set of it, the sheer determination that silvers our eyes.”
― Jodi Picoult, My Sister’s Keeper

Grandpa’s grandmother—EMMA…

This image below is half my face and half that of my 2nd great grandmother Emma Agnes Nash Piersol (1871-1939). I didn’t think I resembled her until I layered these images.

She died just a few months after my grandparents were married in May of 1939. The depression, dust storms, and the lead up to the war must’ve taken quite a toll on her. These photos of us are separated by over 100 years. Emma’s far away gaze looks like someone who doesn’t want to be photographed or maybe she feels exposed somehow.

While researching Emma’s line last week, I discovered this about Emma’s grandfather.

I was born on October 12th and named my son, Ellis.

DNA

Dear Summer 2019,

Thank you for all of the lovely memories.

I learned a lot about myself over the last three months,

it wasn’t easy, but truly necessary.

With Loving Gratitude,

Lisa

PS The autumnal equinox arrived in the early morning hours of Sept. 23 (at 3:50 a.m. Eastern), the halfway point between our longest and shortest days of the year. It’s funny how my “middleness” shows up in nearly every aspect of my life.

Well hello autumn, you know you’ve always been my favorite… shhhhhhh don’t tell summer.


Ain’t it funny how the night moves
When you just don’t seem to have as much to lose
Strange how the night moves
With autumn closing in

—Bob Seger, Night Moves

No wonder I love this time of year, I’m constantly reminded of my “middleness” in nearly every aspect of my life.