There were days when I was working part time and attending college
full time. All the while, I was raising
my two children, holding down a house, managing the household finances
(barely!), the kids select soccer seasons and whew, whatever else came my way. Nights ended at midnight with my studying and
days started around 5:00 a.m.
As the years have flashed by, and the seasons change, so
have I. I sure wish my body would recirculate like the leaves on the trees do
and when fall returns, my body would look rejuvenated and as pretty as it did
last autumn. Mine gets each year, a bit
older, more wrinkles, and possibly a teeny bit slower too, if one was clocking
my speed. It is safe to save Mother
Nature is not as kind to mere Mortals as she is to the planet Earth. That tree in our front yard will be here long
after me and be just as majestic.
When I was younger, visiting with family was boring. Just sitting around talking was painful. I
would be looking for any distraction to help make it more bearable. Now I simply find it so refreshing to spend
time with family, immediate and extended. It is amazing how those bonds, no
matter the time between visits or distance, seem to build quickly and they renew
intently. The similarities are quickly
recognized and the shared memories warm the heart. I find myself craving for more time and not
less time with family to celebrate our connection.
Friends of yesterday years helped influence who I am today;
some in small ways, some in large ways and some were just a fun piece of my
history. How I would enjoy reminiscing
with them! In the past, running away
from times in my life when I didn’t have it all together, e.g. high school
years, sounded ideal. Now, as the pieces of my life fit, it would be so
entertaining to collect some of those former friends and actually connect live,
in person and just celebrate life, the fact of what we were and who we are now. One day we will all be connected again, in a
more perfect world and but all of us have come a long way and have hopefully
grown. The past is a blessing and the
present is a blessing also.
I find more and more things in this world we live in to
smile about and less to worry about as I age.
Cynicism is an attitude. It is a
choice. It is allowing the negative to
underlie everything you see, think and feel.
If I do that, I can’t enjoy the moment.
I worked too hard to be here, at this moment, to not enjoy it. There is so much good surrounding us if we
look and feel with an open heart.
Plus I believe in miracles. I see them every day. I think
with a closed mind, you don’t see them.
I have faith and believe God makes things happen all the time. I didn’t feel this so much when I was
younger. This is something I have become more aware of as I have grown older
and deepened my faith. Try adopting this
attitude for a while and you may be shocked at what you see happening all
around you.
My favorite memory of old was listening to elderly people
tell stories of their life, growing up.
There was this one lady, Louise, for example. She lived in a nursing
home next to my grandparents’ house in Piqua, Ohio. Louise was wheel chair
bound and had no legs. When she was younger, she use to attend grand gala
events at a huge home in Dayton, Ohio down the street from where I grew up. in
Saville Estates. We use to simply call the home the Mansion. It was easily the biggest house in the
neighborhood and towered on a huge hill down the street. It always looked horrible when I was kid, run
down, with huge outdoor pool overrun with weeds, signs of decay on the columns
running alongside the walk ways leading to the pool, ivy growing up alongside
the house.
Louise described the house from back in her days, when her
relatives owned it. It was a different
day and time. She showed me pictures of her family from outside on the grounds
and inside the home. It was like
something from Tara in Gone with the Wind. Simply beautiful! The pool water was crystal clear with the
ladies and gents around the edge of the water in their full body bathing suits
as was the custom in those days. The
yard was well manicured and looked as clean and proper as a golf course on the
pro tour.
The day I ran over to Louise’s one bedroom to hear my
afternoon of stories and found her room utterly empty only to be told she had
died, my heart sunk. She cannot be
replaced. She brought to life her life
to me.
Stories of our life told to younger generations should do that;
bring an earlier era to life. Take time to do that. History is best served that
way. I use to crave listening to older
people talk about their lives, some twenty and thirty years ago. Those
recanting were so much better than a boring history book. I always wondered what it would be like to
have a pocket full of stories like that to tell.
It is as if I woke up one day and became one of those old
women sitting on the front porch. I have
a wheelbarrow full of stories, oodles of wonderful yarns about people I have
met along life’s journey. Oh, and tons of stories about me, about history in
the making, when microwaves first came out, where I was when the Shuttle blew
up, when cloth diapers were used only, etc….
Some of the stories are funny, some sad, some make you think. All of them have touched me in their own
unique way. Isn’t it amazing how much
we learn in life from just everyday living?
It is as if recanting our steps in life we can help someone else
vicariously visit the history of us, our legacy. The joy of a story is being
taken to a land far far away without
your feet leaving the ground.
As we age, before our feet leave the ground permanently,
perhaps we should all consider doing this, tell someone your story.
