When i came back home from my motorbikeride, i had a text from my mother. Pretty unusual, so i called back and she told
me that my grand mother died this morning. She was not that old but has had several heart attacks and was not so fit since a couple of years.
This picture was taken for exactly 28 years ago, one of the first times i met her.
My grand mother lived her whole life in Bretagne, Guern, Guéméné were common places there for her. I am pretty sure that the only places she went outside from Bretagne were at my parents places. A whole life within a 100 km circle. We always lived far away from each other, so the meetings were few. I cannot say that we were closed, we weren’t, but i will always remember how soft her skin was. She was also very silent and when she spoke in french, she was wonderfully rolling her R and telling exactly what she had to say, no more, no less. This picture bellow is from the last time i saw her, it was in augusti 2008, when a cousin of mine got married.
She deserves a song, with voices from Bretagne, in her mother tongue and with a first line that is so true to her. Rest In Peace, Cécile.
Me zo ganet ba Gemene
O, joli coucou Me zo ganet ba Gemene O, joli coucou Ma zad, ma mamm a oa ivez Joli, joli coucou Ma zad, ma mamm a oa ivez O, joli coucouMa zad, ma mamm ‘nivoa madoù
Da gas ac’hanon d’ar skolajoù
D’ar skolajoù ‘vit bout beleg
Ma c’halon baour permeta ket
D’ar skolajoù ‘vit bout manac’h
Ma c’halon ‘noa dezir ur plac’h
Ha p’ae ar re all da bediñ
Me deue war ar ruioù da c’hoari
Ha p’ae ar re all ‘barzh ar c’hlas
Me deue war ar ruioù da c’hoari las
Ma zad, ma mamm p’o doe klevet
Na peseurt fripon ‘doe-int maget
‘Nivoa skrivet din ul lizher
Da zont d’ar gêr da chañch micher
Kerse oa gant ma c’hostioù
Labourat trañchoù ha palioù
Kichen oe bout ba’r seminer
Lakaat pluñv liv war ar paper
Oan ket bet pell ba ti ma zad
‘Moa dibochet merc’h un oc’h mat
Ur plac’h a bemp kant skoed ar blé
Ha me ‘moa kement-all ivez
En o’r ur bloaz oa lipet toud
Ha sac’h ar person war ma choug
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