The Notebook. First impression(s).

This blog post is what I sent, via e-mail, to relatives after receiving the previously-mentioned journal kept by my maternal grandmother. I have italicized the text.

A few of you know about this but I wanted to share with all. A journal, kept in a notebook by Gram, has been sent to me by my Mom, via Doodle Mama, via Uncle Buddy. The entries begin on Jun 17, 1947, end Aug 12, 1947, and detail her return to Scotland (she left in 1925 ... more than 20 years earlier) to visit when my Mom was a wee girl. I cannot find the words to accurately describe how I feel when I read her writing and what she was thinking about, where she was, what she did, etc. Initial thoughts and observations, some probably "meaningless" to anyone except me:




1. Her writing reminds me of mine; somewhat challenging to read. Of course the ink has faded somewhat over the past 60+ years.

2. She loved the United States, frequently referring to it as "good old" or similar.

3. On July 2, mid-sentence, she stopped using blue ink and began using black. Her penmanship seemed to slightly change as well.

4. On July 4th she visited "the old homestead". Her entry reminds me of a sentence I read in a book called The Highland Clans;"Chaneil nith an seo man a bha e" (there is nothing here now as it was).

5. There were places/sites she wanted to see, and she did a lot of walking around and exploring in addition. I did the same during my visits.

6. She was on a train, with brother Dave, and saw two soldiers home on leave from India. They were headed to Motherwell; during my Dec 2009/Jan 2010 trip I spent a lot of time at the Motherwell train station. It holds a special place in my heart.

7. She did not mince words and wrote down some of the negative experiences, as well. Hard beds, bad food, paying 2 shillings for a magazine that turned out to be almost 1 year old ("was I mad").

8. On Jun 20, 1947 the first sentence is a birthday greeting to my Mother.

Anywho, I shall end with that entry. If anyone cares, I'll share more as I continue to read it.

The Notebook

Some time ago, after my January 2011 entry, I was given a treasure I did not know existed. A journal kept by maternal grandmother, Susan Robson Bryden, when she returned to Scotland (via England) to visit between June 17, 1947 and August 13, 1947.

She had been away for more than 20 years. World War II had come and gone, but some of the places she saw still showed the signs of German bombing, and Scotland was still rationing food and clothing. According to page 176 of Scottish Customs: from the Cradle to the Grave, rationing was strictly enforced into the 1950s.

Grandma Bryden left Scotland a young woman. When she returned to visit she had 7children including my mother, the youngest. Mom turned 6 years old 3 days into my Gran's visit; Grandma Bryden even wrote "Happy Birthday Honey" in the journal.

As I pored over the journal, trying to read her writing which is now more than 60 years old, some of the ink faded, I marvelled at the number of places she visited, or mentioned, that I have seen. I felt a sense of sadness at the places she visited that I had wanted to visit during my visits but for various reasons were never reached. Perhaps/definately next time.

It took me some time to read all of the journal, because some sentences needed re-reading, and more than once I "googled" for information about some of the places she visited. I even used what little of the Gaelic I possess in order to find a place she mentioned but she wrote its name in a sort of English.

Over the weeks I read the journal I sent my thoughts, via email, to relatives and friends who I thought might want to follow along. I have been encouraged to copy/paste my emails to this blog so that others can also read what I had to say. Therefore, the next few entries will be devoted to The Notebook. Then I'll share another treasure, that I did know existed, I received from Scotland.

Until then, may the best you've ever seen be the worst you'll ever know.

Susan Robson Bryden (Lane)

This entry is dedicated to a woman I do not remember: my Grandmother. It's also dedicated to my mother, my Aunt "Doodle Mama" Edie, and mo bhean (my wife) Jacqueline for their support and encouragement.



My maternal grandmother, Susan Robson Bryden, born 1906 in Coatbridge, Lanarkshire, Scotland, left Scotland at the age of 18, bound for Canada; to be (so I've been told) a domestic (indentured?) servant. From Canada she eventually moved to the United States where she met and married my grandfather, John C. Lane. Sadly, for me, she died when I was still a wee lad. But, as the embedded picture shows, she knew me.

During my Hogmanay 2009 trip to Alba I was blessed to be able to walk the street(s) that she would have walked in Coatbridge, and I was even guided to Buchanan Street, which is where she lived. Based on street number, I believe and residents of the area confirmed, the section of Buchanan Street where she lived is now the site of The Time Capsule, a public pool. It was suggested I take a bus to Airdrie and visit the library where I would find photographs of Coatbridge as it looked during my Grandmother's child hood. I took several pictures, for my own sense of history and connection, and have posted one of them, Buchanan Street circa 1967; I hope I am not stepping on copy-rights.



During our 2010 Feis Ile trip, I had hoped to visit Gourock,and Greenock.I could not explain why I wanted to visit those towns but for some reason they were calling. Regretably we did not visit either of those locations because it was suggested that we visit Stirling that day. I later learned why those towns were calling; it's probable Susan Robson Bryden left Scotland on a boat that left from either Gourock, or Greenock. I still hear them calling and hope to be able to access, on-line, any information that will tell me what ship she took and when she sailed. Then I will make it a goal to visit where she last stood, or at least be in the general area.

Over the years my mother, and her sister Edie (aka "Doodle Mama") have given to me, and my wife, various items that belonged to my Grandmother. Most of the items have been books, but recently were were given a wee butter dish that has a tiny thistle in its clear handle. Granted, none of these items is (probably) worth much money, but to me, they are piceless. I hope someday to meet my Grandmother; God willing, I will.