Tag: generations

A Grief Novembered

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I’m discovering that grief goes through seasons. That makes sense since it’s intertwined into life, right?

And November is when the frills fade and grief settles down to overcast, bare realities. Note I didn’t say bad realities. The realities are just bare, stripped of the things that hide them or give them a rosy glow at other times of the year.

Today it has been nine months since Grandma passed away. So much has happened that I’d like to tell her about. If I could write her a letter, it would go something like this…

Dear Grandma,

I’ve been missing you more lately. I didn’t know that it would work like that – that I would miss you more later than at first. Maybe it’s because I’ve realized you won’t be here for Thanksgiving pie and I won’t be trying to figure out what to get you for Christmas. A lot of what I miss is getting to chat with you. Whether on the way to church or over our quiches and scones at that little coffee shop or here at home, we did a fair amount of chatting, didn’t we?

I’d like to be able to tell you about the changes in my life. Best of all is the new precious grandbaby. Tiny toes, always-moving hands, sleepy chirps, and kiss-me-please chubby cheeks! It really is true that babies grow so fast. Beyond that, you would love my new group of students. They’re exceptional, and I’m not just biased. I’m learning more about teaching and Spanish. Then there’s my writers’ group. I could probably make a book of stories about the different authors. You’d like reading some of their books. It would be a great way to find some you actually hadn’t read yet! Of course, I’d like to tell you about my own projects like how I’ve been tweaking that one last story I got to read to you and am also working on a new one. The new story involves pies…I guess that won’t surprise you. Then there are little things like how we repainted the bathroom. You might wonder about the combination of “watery” and “lei flower” paint, but, once you hear how it makes me think of the land of alohas and well-loved tales that take place there, you’ll laugh and decide it was a good – or at least ok – idea.

Speaking of laughing, I miss your clever ways of saying things. When you were alone, did you spend time just thinking up what to say to bring smiles to our faces? Some of your growing-up stories were pretty funny, too. You made life as one of seven kids in a pastor’s family sound pretty grand even with the hard times you faced. I’d like to hear those stories again and get to ask you more questions. There are things I never thought to ask you before that now I wish I knew.

It would be great to get your input on some of the decisions I’m working through. Like should we move to Norway and become reindeer ranchers or should we move to Ecuador and live in a house like Swiss Family Robinson? Ok, just kidding! The point is, our family tended to value your judgment on the big things, and I feel a little lost without it sometimes. I also miss asking you to pray for me, hearing you say you will and knowing I could count on it. Not that I don’t have other people who pray for me – it’s just not the same somehow…

That reminds me of something that came up at one of my writers’ meetings. In talking about our audiences, the thought popped up that generally young people today don’t have older mentors in their lives. I realized that that wasn’t true of me. How blessed I have been to have older people like you in my life. People with the time to listen, to laugh, to think and to pray. That’s definitely something to be thankful for, isn’t it?…

I guess that’s what happens when grief – and life – gets “Novembered”: we realize the things that really matter. With the extras blown away, we see, yes, what we’ve lost but also what we’ve been given and for what we can be truly thankful…even through the tears. 

Passed-Down Partialities: People, Poems, Pianos & Pies

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Not so long ago in a land not too far away, there lived a little girl named Ruthie. She lived on a farm with her father, mother and sisters. They didn’t have much in the way of things, but they were surrounded by generally kind neighbors. Ruthie relished the parties for birthdays and the celebrations for national holidays. She also cared for the neighbors’ children when a helping hand was needed. Along the way, one thing was for sure: Ruthie learned to love people. 

As Ruthie grew up, she discovered another love: music. Finally, she had the opportunity to take a handful of music lessons. That gave her the courage to play both the piano and organ for church!

While she loved people and music, Ruthie also enjoyed time by herself. She didn’t even mind being the one to stay home and clean! (Every family needs a little Dutch-ness, perhaps?) However, she also enjoyed a good story. Her family didn’t have many books, but she read The Best Loved Poems of the American People. Perhaps the rhythm of the words struck a chord with her music-loving heart. At any rate, she kept that book for decades to come.

Even after grown-up Ruth left her small hometown, her partialities perpetuated. People, pianos and poems continued to be parts of her life. She also carried sweet memories with her. Remember those parties with the neighbors? Ruth couldn’t help but share the stories, especially about the pies! Mrs. Cacak always baked such wonderful pies! As Ruth traveled far and wide, maybe pie became like a taste of home.

Lo and behold, one day Ruth found that she had become a grandma! Where had the years gone? Well, whether on purpose or not, Ruth passed down her partialities to the next generation. She showered the new little people in her life with love and showed them how to love other children. Once they started taking piano lessons, she played and sang along, imparting her interest in hymns. She shared her book of poems. And, lastly, she offered the stories of her childhood, including the palate-pleasing pies.

Have you ever wondered over how God weaves our lives together? Isn’t it amazing how He even carries on the work from generation to generation? I think Ruth’s story is a good illustration.

You see, I am one of Ruth’s granddaughters. Her passed-down partialities have had a huge impact on my life. I hope to carry on her love for people, especially children. If she hadn’t played piano in church, I might not have either! It was with her Best Loved Poems of the American People  that I spent happy hours, and now I post about poems on my blog. And if she hadn’t shared sweet memories with me, I may not have been as inspired to bake pies a-plenty.

This is why younger people like me need older people like my grandma. They give us perspective and pass down passions and pastimes. And, from what I’ve seen, older folks need us young chicks to remind them that their decisions affect others and they need to be thoughtful about what they value. Certainly, there are many other things – even beginning with “p” – that Grandma could have invested in and that could have made my life much different. So if you’re an older person, please consider your ways well and seek out someone with whom to share your gifts. And if you’re a younger person, watch for what you can learn from the older people in your life. Won’t it be wonderful to see what God’s masterpiece looks like someday when we get to see His woven work?

Thank you, Grandma, for passing down these things to me. I’m glad you enjoyed the cherry and raspberry pie I was able to make for your birthday! You know the secret ingredient, don’t you? Love.

Grandma's Birthday Pie