Who is Granny?

I talk about Granny a lot. They will guide me to the stories that need to be shared.

In 2016, I wrote this in my journal :

Someone is calling to me. I have an urgent need to look for her and find out what I know she wants me to hear. The call keeps getting louder and more insistent as time goes on. I’m not sure where or when this voice is coming from but I’m pretty sure that it comes from the time around the civil war.

I want, no, I need to make a civil war era dress. I have known this for a while. My life recently has been unsettled. Not dramatically with disasters but feelings of change in the air, the feelings of urgency, that something is changing, I need to settle down and do something important.

That day I was knee deep in plans for sewing a civil war dress and was stuck in overwhelm with making it perfect.

Is the pattern historically accurate?

What fabric and patterns are historically accurate?

How can I find the right stuff and how much will that cost?

Do I really need to sew this by hand?

I was calculating how many miles of seams must be in a big multilayered hoop skirt when something made me stop. Clearly I heard and felt Granny give me a hug and say,

“Silly girl, why in the world would you go to all of that trouble when you have a great sewing machine! I certainly wouldn’t sew all of that by hand if I didn’t have to.”

What was that? Granny? No one in my family calls anyone Granny. Who was that?

I have come to understand that Granny is a collective voice of ancestral guides who have been guiding me using my curiosity and natural inclination to Question Authority. They have been leaving breadcrumbs for me to follow. They never disappoint and often leave me with more questions than I had before. I will be sharing their stories and how they have helped me understand many of the things that have been holding me back.

Diana Gabaldon is one of my favorite storytellers. In Drums of Autumn, Claire meets a native wise woman who tells her, “When your hair is white like hers, that is when you find your full power.”

Perhaps that is why I’m finally, in my 60s with white hair, able to hear Granny more clearly.

I am ready to listen to and tell their stories.