Cupcakes & Tea with Elizabeth

Tag: storytelling

  • Reflections from Sweden: My Grandma’s (Mormor) Words and the Vasa Ship

    Reflections from Sweden: My Grandma’s (Mormor) Words and the Vasa Ship

    While in Sweden, I came across one of my grandma’s old diary entries from her own trip decades ago. On a page titled “Comparisons,” she wrote:

    “Comparison:
    In those days, people feared things
    like lion’s faces. We fear things in
    the shape of mushroom clouds — nuclear bombs.”
    ~ June 1986

    She was writing about the Vasa Ship, the 17th-century Swedish warship that famously sank on its maiden voyage and was later recovered and preserved. The “lion’s face” she mentions refers to the carved lion figurehead at the front of the ship — a symbol of courage and power that’s been part of Swedish culture since medieval times.

    Reading her words while visiting the Vasa Museum myself in the summer of 2017 was surreal. It felt like we were sharing a moment across time — her thoughts from 1986 intertwining with my own experiences.

    I remember watching teams of researchers working carefully on the ship, preserving it for future generations. The recreated colors of the Vasa were so vivid and striking — a reminder that history can breathe again when we take the time to care for it.

    Her reflection about fear — how it changes shape across generations — stuck with me. The world she knew was different, yet her words still ring true.

    Maybe that’s the beauty of shared experiences: even when years and oceans separate us, our thoughts and emotions still find a way to connect.

    vasa2

    VASA
    A picture of the lion I took at the Vasa Museum!

  • The Stories That Built Me

    The Stories That Built Me

    “I have great respect for the past. If you don’t know where you’ve come from, you don’t know where you’re going.”
    — Maya Angelou

    Every family has stories that shape who they are, and around Christmas a few years ago, I got to hear some of mine. My parents sat me down and shared pieces of our family history that left me in awe — stories of strength, courage, and quiet resilience that built the foundation I stand on today.

    One of those stories was about my great-grandmother’s sister, who worked down South as a schoolteacher. She was light-skinned and could pass as white — something that came with complicated privileges during that time. Across from the school was a hat shop that allowed white customers to try on hats before buying them. Black customers, however, had to purchase any hat they touched. My great-grandmother’s sister would walk into that shop and try on as many hats as she pleased, knowing she could get away with it. It was a small, almost defiant act — one that spoke volumes about navigating an unjust world with quiet boldness.

    Then there was my grandmother’s father — my great-great-grandfather. He was also light-skinned, with light eyes, and worked as a painter at a hotel. One day, he walked in with the Black maids, and his boss pulled him aside.
    “Why did you walk in with the colored women?” the boss asked.
    My great-great-grandfather simply replied, “Well, they play cards with my wife.”
    The manager, shocked, said, “Your wife? You mean to tell me you’re colored!?”
    “Yes, sir,” he said calmly.
    The boss looked around and whispered, “Look, I like you. You’re good at your job. But don’t tell anyone you’re colored, or we’ll have to fire you.”

    Hearing these stories, I felt an ache — pride mixed with sadness. These were people who carried themselves with grace and strength in the face of injustice. People who worked hard, protected their families, and found ways to keep their dignity intact in a world that didn’t always see it.

    Some might say, “The past is the past — why bring it up?” But I think remembering is an act of love. It’s how we honor the struggle, the perseverance, and the humanity that got us here. Forgetting would mean erasing the very roots that keep us grounded.

    If I could talk to them today, I’d tell them how proud I am — proud of the resilience that runs through our blood, proud of the lessons they left behind, proud to carry their spirit forward.

    Resilience. That’s what created me.

    “You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone’s soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose… That is your role, your gift.”
    — Erin Morgenstern