This should help get your weekend off to a nice start…
This should help get your weekend off to a nice start…
It’s not what you gather but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you’ve lived.
I was thinking about my childhood the other day and trying to remember how far back my memories went. I settled on somewhere between four and five years old but there were only a handful that were clear to me. That bothered me, especially when I took what was then and applied it to now.
Making memories with the people you love or care about is one of life’s greatest gifts. Some of the times we’ve laughed most were with our children and grandchildren, especially during their early years, when everything is on the table, learning is a daily adventure, innocent words are a sound byte and your sense of wonder sometimes equals theirs. Those are memories that we’ll keep with us forever. Unfortunately, it’s all one-sided. Because in those early years it’s not anything they’ll remember. Influenced, yes. But all the things that were said or laughed about until there were tears in our eyes will not be a definitive memory for them.
That shouldn’t bother me because it’s just another cycle of life, but it does. I remember things that we did with our children and now our grandchildren that were special moments, and though we can relay the stories, it’s not the same as being there in our mutual minds. I sit and have conversations now with our grandchildren, play games, tell stories, laugh at the silliest things, hold them if they cry and sit back and wonder if they’ll remember any of it.
I’ve always understood this but I suppose as I’ve gotten older, Helen Walton’s quote has taken on a different meaning. You want those you love to remember every last laugh and cuddle and hand holding because you know that time of innocence, like life, is so short. Eight or nine comes too quick and soon they’re moving on. Parents will always be more invested in the lives of their children/grandchildren than the other way around. That’s just the way it is. It’s not a matter of loving or caring, it’s just the emotional investment that begins long before they open their eyes and never goes away.
So selfishly you want them to remember it all. Every amazing moment. Big and small. Hoping that you’ve scattered enough love and joy into their lives that one day they may laugh at something silly for no reason at all. You may not know it or even be there. But if it brought them happiness, then maybe something in their two year old lives stuck, and you’ve scattered enough.
And maybe, just maybe, the shade of a memory will not only be yours.
One cannot live the afternoon of life according to the program of life’s morning; for what was great in the morning will be of little importance in the evening, and what in the morning was true will at evening have become a lie. -Carl Jung
One the aspects of life that has always fascinated me is how we wake up one morning, living and planning our future, and go to bed that evening with a very different agenda. One that is laid out for us. One we have little control over.
Those of you who have been reading my blog for the last few years, know I haven’t been around much lately. As I wrote early in the year, my wife was diagnosed with breast cancer last December and we had some work to do to get her back to where she was. Well, we’re almost there. It’ll take some time before she gets back to where she was when this started but she’s doing really well. She’s a tough out and doesn’t back down easily so I’m sure she will handle recovery as directly and aggressively as she dealt with treatment. Surgery, six months of chemo, and four weeks of radiation all ended this past week. So the physical healing begins.
As I wrote back then, we are fortunate. It was caught very early and it didn’t spread so everyone is confident that what she went through is all she will have to go through.
I don’t know how to write about this journey, for lack of a better word. So many people fight their own individual battles with all kinds of dreadful and debilitating illnesses. People young and old. I can’t speak to those and I really don’t want to write about this but I don’t know how to come back here and pick up as if nothing happened, without some sense of closure before moving on again. It seems….disrespectful… to anyone who has ever experienced an illness.
I don’t know how to write about what I’ve seen. A few years ago when my grandson went through treatment for cancer, (he’s doing very well by the way), I wrote about it initially and again near the end, before I moved on. A child dealing with cancer, or any illness is, for me, just a violation of all that is good.
It’s hard to put these images and feelings into words. When you go to a hospital, you see all kinds of situations and a range of why people are there, from the serious to the happiness of newborns. When you go to a center that does nothing but cancer you know why everyone is there. It’s a very humbling place. But it’s also a very hopeful place.
I can’t dwell on the eyes of some of the people I’ve looked into. We don’t know each other and in some cases, never spoke, but they will aways be in my prayers, just as the parents of those children whose eyes I looked into remain with me years later.
We have been blessed to have such great family and friends around us through this time. The support we’ve received; the prayers and meals, the phone calls, cards and little gifts have meant so much. Friends have called to arrange lunch and breakfast dates when my wife had her better weeks, and all of these things mean more than we could ever express.
People surprise you during times like this. Those who we knew but never heard from much in the past or who we never expected to hear from, stepped up in ways that touched our hearts.
Of course there are a handful that populate the flip side but there’s no point wasting time speaking about those individuals..:)
Reaching out to someone during times of difficulty or loss means so much to those in need. If you know someone who’s in that situation now, please don’t ask them to let you know if they need anything. They’ll never call and really, it’s not the way it’s supposed to work. It’s up to each of us. Be the person who does. It’ll make both of you feel so much better.
Thank you to those who reached out those few times I showed up here, and all your prayers. It is very much appreciated.
Hopefully you’ll be seeing much more of me in the future. Of course that can be a good or bad thing, depending on your perspective…:)
PS…..I have about 2500 posts to read. .I’m not sure when I can get to them, but hopefully in time I’ll be able to make a dent. I apologize for not getting to them earlier.
There is a fine line between Saturday night and Sunday morning.
Jimmy Buffet, Fruitcakes
This is one of my favorite Jimmy Buffett lines and I was reminded of it today during school. I have been working in the school library the last few weeks and almost everyday, these two ten-year old girls come in to read or look for books they can read together. They’re inseparable.
They’re both chatty and like to engage in conversation, which is okay with me as long as they whisper. No easy task for ten-year old girls.
So today they were talking with me about the books they’re reading and after a few minutes the conversation went like this..
Ten year old: My mom is strict with the books that I read, she only reads Christian books and wants me to do the same.
Me: Well, I’m sure there are a lot of good books in here that she wouldn’t have a problem with you reading.
Ten year old: I know but she only really likes Christian books and romance stuff like Fifty Shades of Grey.
Me: (after what seemed like a five-minute pause which allowed me to digest what I just heard) So she reads Christian books and romance novels like Fifty Shades of Grey?
Ten year old: (as she’s thumbing through her book) Yeah, that’s all she really seems interested in reading.
Me: Well, whatever makes her happy.
Ten year old: (nodding) Yeah, that’s what I say.
I guess I can elaborate a bit here and discuss the obvious but I think the obvious pretty much speaks for itself. So for all you folks out there who read the romance novel, Fifty Shades, those Christian books are just a little further down on the shelf, when you’re done. Then you can put on Jimmy Buffett and Fruitcakes. Somehow it will all come together.
Whenever I’ve traded childhood stories with anyone or discussed what it was like growing up, I always tell them the same thing; if anyone had a better childhood than I did, I’ve never met them.
I always said it but never gave much thought as to why I felt that way. I suppose, as a child, you live life a certain way and take so much for granted that you never consider that others may not be as fortunate.
grew up got older, the reasons didn’t seem important enough to spend time thinking about it. I was busy with work and helping to raise three daughters; living in the present. I never understood until years later what made growing up so special for me.
It was family.
But it was more than just family. It was having immediate and extended family around me all the time. I never realized how blessed I was as a child. Aside from having terrific parents who worked hard, respected and loved each other and set the right examples, my brother and I were surrounded by our grandfathers, aunts, uncles and cousins every day.
We lived in an Italian/Jewish neighborhood which was only a few blocks by a few blocks. My parents owned a small grocery/meat store and we lived behind the store in a small two bedroom apartment. It was the classic neighborhood corner store, where every one congregated. We didn’t have much monetarily but I never noticed or thought about it.
My aunt and uncle lived around the corner, my cousins up the block, another aunt who was like a grandmother to me and was always around, lived a few miles away. Both of my grandmothers had died but my mother’s father, who had originally owned the store, was there everyday. He came each morning and left before or after dinner. My friends and I would play cards with him, pitch pennies, play handball, listen to his stories and tell jokes.
My dad’s family lived in Brooklyn. They came to visit every other Sunday. Aunts, uncles and my other grandfather. That grandfather would take me to the park to hit baseballs, play basketball and stop at the candy store on the way back for an ice cream soda. Every other sunday.
Life was different then. Families didn’t move away as much as they do now. They remained a part of the neighborhood. They stayed close. They made memories. The kind you can only make when you can walk down the street to your aunt’s home and know there will always be something in the oven or candy dish for you. Where you can walk into their yard and help pick the figs or pears off the tree and leave with a bag of fruit and veggies. Where your grandfathers became two of your best friends.
It’s hard to explain to someone who’s never experienced those moments, all that they’ve missed. The weekly sunday dinners, the loud card games, the laughter, the knowledge that you can never wander too far without someone you love looking out for you. Someone right there in your backyard.
As you get older, you begin to lose those pieces of your life and childhood. Stories that only a select few people knew are not told as often. One day they will fade completely. Places you went for sunday dinners now have other families sitting in that same kitchen. Sometimes when I pass by, I want to knock on the door, just to peek in and imagine everyone again, as they once were.
Change is always part of life’s eternal equation. That’s just the way it is. But what made my childhood so special remains with me today. No amount of change can change that.
Because you can’t take away family.
My seventeen month old granddaughter Brooklyn, helping her best friend Bailey, get ready for the game. Since she’s a solid secondary food source and constant companion, he’ll let her do just about anything.