by Julia Sneden
“Soon I will be an old, white-haired lady, into whose lap some one places a baby, saying ‘Smile, Grandma!’ — I, who myself so recently was photographed on my grandmother’s lap.” — Liv Ullmann
I love this quote. It speaks with simple eloquence of the connectedness of family experience down the generations, and of the speed with which those generations pass.
I don’t have a photo of myself on my grandmother’s lap, but I remember that lap well. I could feel the bones of her corset and the softness of her bosom under her smooth, cotton housedress. I leaned against her as her gentle hand straightened my always-tangled hair.
I do have a picture of myself as a brand new grandmother with an infant in my lap. It was taken when my granddaughter was about one month old. Even at that early age, she bore a strong resemblance to my husband’s mother, Jean Mackey Sneden, something I’d not even considered in my imaginings during the months before her birth.
The women of my maternal line, that is my great grandmother, grandmother, mother and I, bear a strong likeness, at least in the eyes. I never realized this until someone took a picture of me holding my first born. I was wearing a hospital gown, mask and cap. In that garb, with only my eyes showing, the likeness to my mother and grandmother was truly startling. The rest of our features were disparate, and I’d have sworn we looked nothing alike, but those eyes verified our genetic connection.
Editor’s Note: In advance of Mother’s Day, we thought you would like to read Julia’s essay on Connections.
Painting: The Boating Party by Mary Cassatt, 1893–94, oil on canvas, 35½ × 46 in., National Gallery of Art, Washington
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