100 Years in the Mirror

Several years ago, I inherited the old pump organ, purchased by my grandparents in 1913, a hundred years ago. My mother, Erma, was born in 1920 and when she was three years old, she climbed up on the old swivel stool (still part of the organ) and played her first song. She played by ear, and from that moment on she could play any song she heard.

There is a beveled mirror on the top of the organ, part of an ornate backing that includes fancy scrolls and rolled pillars, shelves and special places to set old fashioned oil lamps. I imagine my grandmother, Minnie, as a younger woman, looking into that mirror as she dusted, tended her children and, maybe, took a quick glance at her image before company arrived. She had eight children and I’m sure they all gandered at themselves in the beveled glass as they grew up. I can imagine that my mom smiled in the mirror many times when she sat at the organ and entertained friends and family with her remarkable talent. As a child, visiting my grandparents, even I peeked at myself in the mirror a few times.

 

My grandmother watched as age settled on her, seeing her young face wear into wrinkles and tracks of time in the mirror. After she passed away, the old organ with the mirror was left to my cousin, Albert, who took it to Nebraska. About ten years ago, he made a trip to Idaho and brought the organ back to give to my mother, who in turn, gave it to me. When it was set up once more, my cousin looked into the mirror one last time before he left. Then my mom saw her image in the beveled glass again and her young face had become old.

Today I stopped a moment and looked into the timeless beveled mirror and realized that I was also getting old and now, more than ever, resembled my mother, who resembled her mother, who resembled her mother. Our images blended into one.

I wish I could see all the relatives who peeked into the mirror over the last one hundred years. I wish there was a camera inside that could have snapped their photos; all the aunts and uncles, cousins, grandparents and great-grandparents whose faces gazed for a brief moment into the mirror on the organ.

My children and grandchildren have looked into the mirror, that shiny square of glass that has reflected generations of my family and also the images of their everyday lives. It could tell wonderful stories of the last 100 years of family history if it could only speak.
© 2013 Linda Gatewood

Hints about the Winter Secret series...

Only one year in their lives, but…
Winter Secret is like a stage set for a show; a cold winter evening with ice crystals sparkling in the frozen air under a full moon. The characters are introduced and their strengths and weaknesses only hinted at. The beginning of a story unfolds with suspense and intrigue that sweeps the reader into heights and depths of secrecy. The discovery of a stolen microchip that could destroy the world brings danger into Derek and Cynthia’s lives and threatens the fragile beginning of a new love. The ending is a question left dangling in the air: will they be able to stay together? (Book trailer:

The second book opens like the rush of a rogue wave on a calm sea. What seemed a gentle resolution now becomes a whirlpool of uncertainty, when the new couple become tangled in the mystique of a hidden treasure. There are two completely unexpected surprises in Spring Promise; something extraordinarily challenging, in any relationship, happens to Derek and Cynthia, and promises one of two things: unity or division. The second unforeseen event is the revelation of the unbelievable identity of Derek; something completely startling and amazing. How will this affect their love for one another? (Book trailer:

The third book, Summer Truth, is comparable to an earthquake that opens beneath you as you step forward. The past that Cynthia shared with her ex-husband, the dishonest attorney, Bradley, reaches out and ensnares her back into its fold. She becomes the scapegoat for his deeds in a race for her life from the good and the bad. As Derek’s real identity begins to engulf him, he faces a past full of intrigue, lies and deadly deception. Can he meld with the past or should he leave it behind? And how will his choice effect Cynthia? (Published in spring of 2014) www.lindagatewoodbooks.com

In the final book in the series, Autumn Hush, the past engulfs both of them in a mystery that takes place in an ancestral castle that hides a skeleton behind its cold granite walls that could be the answer to all the questions. But the seeds from the ruthless past are still alive and determined to keep all the secrets, no matter who must be sacrificed.

There are exciting stories in each book and yet, one plot that keeps unfolding from book to book, full of surprise and intrigue to lead you to a thrilling conclusion. Inside these books, you’ll find mystery, suspense, murder and a devious character set on destruction. You’ll find romance that is tender and loving, yet forceful and strong, but not tarnished with explicit descriptions that aren’t necessary to describe romance. You also won’t find stories full of vulgar language, which is also unnecessary to portray powerful emotions. I hope you enjoy the adventure!

Linda Gatewood, author of the Winter Secret series: Winter Secret, Spring Promise, Summer Truth and Autumn Hush 
© 2013 Linda Gatewood

On reflection, I’m pretty sure I have more than 19 grandchildren.

On reflection, I’m pretty sure I have more than 19 grandchildren.  There are other members of the family that I’ve overlooked. What about my daughter, Rachel, and her little miniature Chihuahua, Lilly (I call her Lilly Pad because she could almost lie in your one hand if she wasn’t so incredibly fat!) and, of course, her adopted brother, Big Bruce, (Bullmastiff) who has his own Facebook page. (I think Lilly might be jealous.) When I go over to their house, Bruce celebrates the entire time I’m there, gallivanting around, bringing me his favorite chewy to share and slobbering all over the place. When Lilly gets tired of it, she puts him in his place and then rolls over for a belly-rub. I know I’m truly loved by them.  

Then there’s my son, Preston, and his family cat, Fluffy, whom I tended for three months after they moved to Boise and were looking for a home. When they finally picked him up, they accused me of feeding him treats every day and making him fat. Not only that, but they said I allowed him to misbehave (climb on the counter); I say: what – are – grandmas – for?

My daughter, Jenny, tells me that Sassy Cat gets excited when she sees my car drive up and runs in and out, while I’m there, to get attention. Katty-Katty-Wat-Wat usually climbs out from under a blanket, sleepy after sleeping all night and all day. They both make sure they sniff me and get a head scratch before they find a safe place to observe all the activity.

My son, Jared stands back when his small black retriever, Duke, meets me at the door with his favorite toy in his mouth to make sure I feel welcome! He dances around so much in happiness, his tail wagging widely, that Jared usually puts him outside; afraid he’ll break something during his celebration.

What more could any grandma ask for? Such a wonderful display of blissful happiness just to see me! Yes, I’m pretty sure I really have 25 grandchildren!
© 2013 Linda Gatewood