Hello to my dear, Aunt Jane...

An open letter of sorts, to my Aunt Jane, one of the special twins, the last two babies amongst my mother's 7 siblings.

Such memories I have of you, Aunt Jane...

I can't tell you all I want to share, because if I did, this entry would not have an ending.  So, instead of getting overly lengthy, like I most often do, I'm going to do my very best to keep it fashionably long enough not be to unsightly short sighted.  I'd say sweet, too, but since you are the epitome of sweetness, I fear my words would pale in comparison to what you exude naturally.  Nonetheless, my thoughts as I write this will be sincere and heartfelt, as if you were sitting here, right with me.

I'm going to be sharing a few aerial photos I shot very early one morning this past July when Steve and I were treated to a a wonderful ground fog while flying in our hot pink powered parachute.  We made a beeline to Hamlet that morning.  Needless to say, it's our favorite air venue around here.  The fog was glorious and provided some stunning natural effects to our flight.  And, consequently to my photos, too.  The air was fresh.  The winds were perfect and Hamlet very much was still nestled in from the night before.  The pictures will give you and other readers a perspective of the little town that mainly only the birds in residence get to enjoy.  Note, on photos without captions you can click them to make them larger.  The ones with captions won't enlarge, but I'm hoping the captions will serve as markers.

The fog didn't mask the beauty or charm of the little southern railroad "hamlet" as the sun beamed through it, but added to it.  Just like the challenges we women have faced in our family, the fogs that have rolled in to try to overtake us, didn't.  Although they have indeed left their mark.  And will again, our hearts remain in tact, just like Hamlet's has.  With each of we "Monroe girls", it's apparent we have southern roots intermingling with our individual life experiences that are very much demonstrated in our personalities and reflected in our drive to put one foot in front of the other.  As well, as in our thoughts and/or opinions about what is appropriate, and what is not.

In essence, our foundation is still very much alive and well in the very cores of each of us.  This is regardless of the obstacles we've chosen to push through and past.  Rather than allow them to win over.  Again, similar to Hamlet.
 

Flying west toward what was once the Monroe's...

So, thank you, dear Aunt Jane,  so very very much for calling to tell me that you'd read "this" blog.  Of course, it inspired me to write to you here so readers will have a better understanding of my heartstring ties to Hamlet.  What a surprise it was to hear you on the other end of Steve's cell phone last Friday.  You have no idea how encouraging it was for me to hear your praise.  And to hear your praises again as echoed through a phone call from my mother. To know you'll be following what's shared here, really touched me, too.  In doing so, you're on the other end, which meshes with my goal to be connected to all of my family members.  Know now, as I write and take photos to share here, you'll be on my mind and in my heart.  I'll not only be whetting my appetite for capturing images which reflect a desire to illustrate how beauty can been seen in the imperfections, but I'll look for special glimpses of true beauty to share with you in mind, too.  If you wonder why, it's because you are a reflection of true beauty, inside out.

A 1/2' below the Tinman water tower is where one
of the "sisters" called home before it burned...

You are also most assuredly a representative of the strength that lies within "we" Monroe girls.  A reference I made in my first post, just a week or so ago.  Without going into deep detail, I want my readers to know that you're recovering from stroke and haven't gotten the use of one of your hands back.  Nor, do you have full use of your "good" hand.  Yet, you have made miraculous strides over the months.  There's that amazing inner strength.  But, that's something all of "we Monroe" girls share in common. Personally, I can relate to your journey, as I've been on my own for several years now. Yet, that story for the most part will be kept to the confines of Project Rewire. What I'll share here is that in and of itself Project Rewire is my personal rehab tool, a tool I believe God inspired me to start two years ago to help me rewire my brain, literally.  So, to me, it's more than just a blog.  It's very much part of my journey on a road to healing.  It's a cyber keepsake of strides made and not made.  Much like you've been doing with your MacBook, progress has been made.  Even though sometimes it clashes with reality, do keep it up.  (Don't ever worry about not replying to emails or making written comments.  Dialing a phone is much easier and more personal, too.)

The memorial bricks are to the right of the top of the righthand "V"
where you see the white building...

Aunt Jane, that same strength that lies within you, is inside of me, most assuredly and I feel it every single day.  When things changed with me and I truly began to find my core self again on the tracks that run alongside the Hamlet Depot... the very tracks Granddaddy and Uncle Homer used to meet Mom and I on... I'd already visited the bricks laid in their honor by you and "the sisters".  Those simple memorial bricks were much like little stepping stones to me as I found my way to the tracks as dusk was about fall that day and memories from our family reunions came flooding back.  It was as if a wellspring rose up inside me that Autumn almost eve of day in 2008.  The "Monroe" girl quickly began working her way to the surface at the pace of a fast moving train down the tracks.

Whenever we saw the towers we knew the family was near. This
day they were awash in the bright July a.m. sunlight...

I want you to know, every single time I'm at the Hamlet Depot or walking along Main Street, or looking at the two Hamlet water towers, or go past the now vacant lot where your sister/my aunt here used to live, I think of you and all of "the sisters" and the female offspring in our family. My Grandmother Holland would have said we have "constitution". We surely do.

Not only did I receive positive feedback from you, Aunt Jane, about this blog, but I did from some other sources over the course of the weekend. One was a gentleman who sought me out on Saturday at the Depot where I was greeting Seaboard Festival guests to the museum.  He shared with me that his wife began having seizures a fews ago, but fortunately, she's been living seizure free thanks to Keppra.  An AED medication I failed, unfortunately.  Another was a beautiful lady who shared with me that she has actually been reading Project Rewire and mentioned my post about my dad.  I almost fell over because that's my "Father's Day" tribute to him.  She'd actually read that far back.  She also asked me for both Mom's and Grandmother's names.  That's when I decided to include Grandmother's vintage photo within this entry.  I'd already decided to share a poem here I'd written several years ago, that I've shared on Project Rewire, previously.  The words strung together pretty much sum up the females in our family.  The picture of Grandmother and the poem go hand in hand in my opinion and in and odd way tie to my feelings for Hamlet.  The way I see it in my spirit and from vintage photos I've glanced, and my view of it for the future.  Aunt Jane, you and your sisters are all over the poem, too...

Others reading this may wonder what does any of this entry have to do with All Aboard Hamlet?  In a nutshell, my grandparents, an uncle and an aunt chose to make Hamlet their home.  With that came family reunions and visits from as far away as Seattle and Texas where my Aunt Jane lives.  Our roots may not be "seeded" in Hamlet, but as a family with roots all over the U.S. we all have heartstring ties to it.  My parents eventually relocated to the Richmond County area after my dad retired.  Eventually, I made my way to the area, too. 

Aunt Jane, thanks again for the call!  We love you!  Just so you know ahead of time, I'll be closing this entry with the photo of Grandmother I sent to you a few Christmases ago.
 

~ The Beauty Beyond the Looking Glass ~

What lies beyond her looking glass

does truly a beauty make

'Tis not the mere beauty of her face

but a warmth inside her soul it takes

What lies behind her eyes that dream

so genuinely a beauty reveal

'Tis not the color, size, nor shape

but a reflection of true compassion she feels

What lies beneath her surface shows

the gifts each beauty knows

'Tis not the tiara or gossamer gown she wears

but her humor and intuition she shares

What lies inside her heart does tell

the secrets a beauty understands so well

'Tis not what she keeps to herself each day

but the hope and charity she gives away

What lies within her vibrant spirit glows

the enchanting charms of her inner beauty

'Tis not the jewels in her bracelet, ring or lavaliere

but the blessings of grace and trust she bestows

By
Jeanne Holland Newton

 Fannie Channell Monroe 

(Your mother, my grandmother -- no one knew years later she'd marry a Seaboard Airlines Railroad man & sleep with a gun under her pillow!)