We compartmentalize our lives to organize the chaos: Is that good? How you apply the pronoun is a step to figuring out your own M.O.
Interested in the discoveries captured in this photo? Follow the Pike Log to the end for the extended caption. Thanks!
Interested in the discoveries captured in this photo? Follow the Pike Log to the end for the extended caption. Thanks!
You’ve probably read at least one story about somebody who turned 50 and decided to change her or his life’s trajectory: lose weight, get a divorce (or married), change jobs (or where you live), take up sky-diving (or sing in a rock-and-roll band). For me it stacked up like this: one third of my life spent as Dr. Pike’s daughter – an intimidating journey as the offspring of an academic; one third as Bob Pike’s child – as a late-in-life baby, always in the background of a parent’s success, and this current third being me, whoever that is – or what my friend Gail observed by saying, “Your life is an unfinished book.” *
Ironically, or naively (you tell me), I thought I was completing that book in 1977 when I spent six months in Paris channeling my mother’s influence, trying as best I could with what few clues she was willing to provide, to understand her back story. That was followed by two months traveling Europe alone, without my parents’ World War II experiences shadowing my every destination – although encountering the rifle-toting Italian soldiers rhythmically marching through Florence the night former prime minister Aldo Morro was kidnapped came pretty close.
Where are you in your life right now? Do you feel as though you've got unfinished business? Or, are you set, knowing exactly how your life will unfold like a traditional, rolling five-year plan? On the other hand - and I'm believing this is more typical - there's a curiosity teasing at the edges of your life about decisions left unmade or desires to make new connections so there's continuity as old guideposts vanish from your personal landscape.
It has taken more than five years to move to Waterford, VT, land of my paternal ancestors, where I'm curious to figure out what my father’s family did - and by extension this region - to make me who I am. After 20 years, I understand the post-war suburban Jersey Girl. Prep for this next adventure through time involved watching ” Who Do You Think You Are?” and 3 Comments
Ironically, or naively (you tell me), I thought I was completing that book in 1977 when I spent six months in Paris channeling my mother’s influence, trying as best I could with what few clues she was willing to provide, to understand her back story. That was followed by two months traveling Europe alone, without my parents’ World War II experiences shadowing my every destination – although encountering the rifle-toting Italian soldiers rhythmically marching through Florence the night former prime minister Aldo Morro was kidnapped came pretty close.
Where are you in your life right now? Do you feel as though you've got unfinished business? Or, are you set, knowing exactly how your life will unfold like a traditional, rolling five-year plan? On the other hand - and I'm believing this is more typical - there's a curiosity teasing at the edges of your life about decisions left unmade or desires to make new connections so there's continuity as old guideposts vanish from your personal landscape.
It has taken more than five years to move to Waterford, VT, land of my paternal ancestors, where I'm curious to figure out what my father’s family did - and by extension this region - to make me who I am. After 20 years, I understand the post-war suburban Jersey Girl. Prep for this next adventure through time involved watching ” Who Do You Think You Are?” and 3 Comments
Comments
Jun 13, 2012 7:55 AM EDT
Love this Helen. Your history is my history and you are doing a great job. As I told you, I think, my son is a poet and I would love to read great grandmothers poetry. Thank you for doing this research.
- Judy Coletta
Jun 13, 2012 3:44 PM EDT
As you know, we grew up next to Harley Pike and his wife and experience many aspects of his "uniqueness". One day, I did a favor for Harley and he paid me generously in maple syrup....however, as we went into the basement to get my reward, he poured it into a tumber of about 6 or 8 ounces and insisted I drink the entire glass. I love maple syrup but 6 or 8 ounces was a bit excessive. I was about 8 or 9 at the time and never understood that custom. We all have stories about him and great memories...perhaps I will share more of them with you Helen...
- kevin lemire
Jun 14, 2012 7:22 AM EDT
Aren't We All Unfinished?
Yes, we are ALL unfinished. But only those lucky ones with the desire, gusto and courage to dig deeper and uncover what lies beneath will reach some form of completion.
Your couragous journey to find the answers to your questions about your father and your family continues to inspire me. And I suspect that you inspire many.
I especially loved your reference to Asbury Park of yesteryear when you stated that people can’t go back because there is “no there, there” anymore. Unless we’re extremely lucky, the only real way back is through memory and what others left behind for us to find.
As you march on through Chapter III of your life, you will continue to leave behind - oh so much - for others to find.
Thank you dear Helen. You are my time traveling friend and mentor.
- Steve Albert