I’m Still That Girl

On By Annika PerryIn Writing

Today I want to wish a very Happy Birthday to a special lady and close friend – my wonderful Mamma. The following is a poem I wrote in honour of her. As children, we never imagine our parents being a child themselves. Often this will change and I’ve been lucky enough to listen to my mother’s stories of growing up on a small island off the West Coast of Sweden. I know that for her, as for so many of us, that child remains within us. On the actual birthday we are holding a large family party at my home and this is a piece that I will read aloud during the celebrations.

I’M STILL THAT GIRL

I'm still that girl
Hauling wood up the rocks
To build the bookish den
A makeshift table decked with croqueted tablecloth
Shelves jammed into the crevices, already filled with literature.

A private space for my friends and I.

I'm still that girl 
Snuggled up on the sofa bed in the kitchen
Falling asleep to the melody of knitting needles 
The female chatter my lullaby.

I’m still that girl that could never just walk.
Could never understand a slow stroll,
when a  run or a skip were the best forms of motion. 
Walking itself would just not do! 
(Well, apart from Sundays to church of course!)

I’m still that girl
Living life to abundance. 

Spotting a chance to help the family and collect driftwood in the rowing boat, 
why suffice with half-filling the vessel? 
Surely to the brim is the optimal solution. 
Balancing precariously on top of the overladen cargo, 
I row carefully into the harbour.

I’m still that girl 
Standing shoulder to waist with my father, 
picking the seaweed and debris from the fishing nets. 
My agile fingers adept at the task, 
the silent harmony between us speaking volumes.

I’m still that girl
Always wanting to help
Caring for my siblings, four in all, at the tender age of ten! 
How difficult could it be! 
Longing for my parents to enjoy a holiday of their own.

I’m still that girl
Seeking solitude for my thoughts
Seeking meaningful friendships
Seeking purpose, seeking to help others.

I’m still that girl
Twirling in the sun-soaked living room
The rock and roll music filling the space.

All alone! Sheer bliss...

My mother returns early
No words of reproach, just a sweet smile. 

My love of dance and music
never wanes.

A dark clear night beckons
My father leads me to the rocks
Far and high, away from the cosily lit houses.

Above us looms the universe. 
He hands me a box.

I hardly dare breathe as I unwrap 
The gift from the gods, I feel. 
My own telescope.

Together we spend nights mapping the stars,
 precious moments of learning, 
of unity and quiet.

I’m still that girl
With Christmas money tucked safely into my purse, 
Excitement bubbling in my stomach 
the whole  family heads to town.
For hours, I’m enthralled 
by the magical lights, the decorations, the shops.

A chore is anything but taxing and boring
As with enthusiasm we prepare the boat for family holiday.
Scrubbing away with relish, 
knowing adventures beyond local shores are imminent.

I’m still that girl
In awe with a room of my own. 
At night times the friendly rotation of the lighthouse beam 
gleams into my haven. 

I’m still that girl
With no sense of danger
Standing on the sheer slope of the tiled roof with my brother
Shaking the bedding with vigour
Admiring the view of the islands 
The blue of the sea greeting the sky.

A girl who takes a dare to dive 
Into waters unknown
Slamming my head onto the rocks in the hidden depths.

During my first outing to the countryside
The vast emptiness of a field beckons
Space limitless, eternity ahead.
Barefooted I race on, treading on the soil, 
onto the sharp harsh stubble. 
I bite back a scream, my tears. 
Turn around, return, 
my pride refusing to show my pain and trauma.

An inner pride and sense of strength
That remains.

I’m still that girl
With an insatiable thirst for knowledge, 

I’m still that girl
Teaching myself the piano, learning guitar, the music becoming an intricate part of my life. 
Not able to imagine a life without it.

I’m still that girl
Believing the best in people, seeing the possibles, the positives
Understanding the richness of forgiveness
Comprehending the destructiveness of hate and anger.

I’m still that girl
Trusting in love, family and friends
Exploring life beyond any confines
Searching beyond the physical realms of my existence.

©Annika Perry

My grandparents (Mormor & Morfar) started a family tradition when my mother was young of performing the song ‘Med en Enkel Tulipan’ (‘With a Simple Tulip’) on people’s birthday. My Mormor would sing and my Morfar would join in on the harmonica. Today, I want to share this tradition with a video of the song sung by Harry Bandelius. Enjoy and if you’re curious about the words, please click here to see a full translation.

32 thoughts on “I’m Still That Girl”

  1. I could relate to this post immediately because my mother and I had that bond of talking to each other (while we worked in the kitchen, for example) and those stories built a huge repertoire of memories that she shared. I can see that you had that with your mother. Lovely poem, Annika!

    Reply
  5. Unknown's avatar Anonymous

    Annika, I just love this warm , happy and wild poem to your mamma. I feel

    joy streaming through. Are you going to read it at your party, or is it a private gift. I think you should read it.
    As always, your writing sings.
    Send your mamma Happy Birthday wishes from all us friends.

    ❤️

    Reply

    1. Thank you so much, Jacqui! Luckily my mother only lives a few miles from me and we meet up many times during the week. With the rest of the family further afield it will be special to have everyone together for the party.

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  11. Your poetic verse reads well as story. Much sweeter, heartier a read – much shorter and less clumsy a read than if done in ‘memoir’ fashion. I am enthralled with this woman, your mother. What a lovely lineage, Annika! The family tradition for singing that Swedish song is lovingly hilarious – what a delightful tune, carefree and so Swedish (which is part of the whole family tradition, of course!) ❤️

    Reply

    1. Laura, thank you so much for your wonderful comment. I wanted to create a poem effect with my piece here and tried to stop it drifting into the heavier prose – just think I got away with it! 😀 Oh, I’m so proud of my background, my mother, my grandparents, the family lineage. It is a very big family which feels very special. It’s lovely that my mother is keeping the Harry Bandelius song tradition alive every birthday for us – it wouldn’t quite feel like a proper birthday otherwise! Thank you again for your thoughtful words, Laura. hugs xx ❤️

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    1. Ashen, thank you so much! It is a gift to carry that child within us – and to treasure it always.

      How lovely that your MIL was Danish and was Farmor to your son. My son, nephew and niece all use the Swedish Mormor / Farmor as does my niece’s young daughter to my brother (Farfar)!

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    1. Thank you so much, Clive! 🙏 I am sure we will have a wonderful time and everything is almost ready now – it’s been a lot to get organised! I’m looking forward to the day now!

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    1. Georgina, I’m glad you like the song and for me it is so evocative! Our childhood memories seem to be some of the most profound and memorable of our lives, probably the most formative as well. Powerful, indeed. Thank you for your lovely comment.

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  17. How special. Your mom will love this. I have been reading my mom’s diary she wrote in from age 13 to 17. She also had 4 younger siblings that she looked after, and worked hard on the farm. I wish your mom a very Happy Birthday!!

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    1. Darlene, thank you so much! it must be special to be reading your Mum’s diary – I bet that was a tough life for them all but imagine a very close time for them all. My mother is one of five as well and it is great to hear about their escapades! When they are together in the same room chatting away one can sense that very special bond.

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