Memory Monday: Our Ancestors, Us, and a Poem

My husband and I shortly after our honeymoon

OUR ANCESTORS, US, AND A POEM

The other day, I was talking to a clerk at the store where we were shopping. Something came up about marriage. I said we had been married a little over 44 years. The clerk said her parents had been married just over 19 years.

This got me thinking about how many years my parents, grandparents, great-grandparents had been married—which for many of them was a long, long time. These thoughts, in turn, caused me to remember a favorite poem of mine, even though my husband’s name is not John Anderson (see how my mind works).

I’d like to share the poem with you, but first I need to define a few words: jo is sweetheart, brent is smooth or unwrinkled, beld is bald, pow (Scottish, N. England) means head, snaw is snow and canty means cheerful. The poem was written by Robert Burns. He died in 1796, which was years before my grandfather’s great-grandfather was born.

John Anderson my jo, John
John Anderson my jo, John, 

      When we were first acquent,
    Your locks were like the raven, 

      Your bonie brow was brent; 

     But now your brow is beld, John, 

      Your locks are like the snaw, 

     But blessings on your frosty pow, 

      John Anderson, my jo! 

    John Anderson my jo, John, 

      We clamb the hill thegither, 

    And monie a cantie day, John, 

      We've had wi' ane anither; 

    Now we maun totter down, John, 

      And hand in hand we'll go, 

     And sleep thegither at the foot, 

      John Anderson, my jo! 

     I love you, my husband. May God grant us many more years tottering down together.