Old People - #JoyDare No.2291

Due to a small book club group for women started in 2012 by a friend at my church, I actually picked up & read Ann Voskamp's book, One Thousand Gifts, in early 2012. I began listing gifts then & am planning to continue for years to come. It's a WONDERFUL way to remind myself of God's tender loving care for & faithfulness to me -- and to all his children! I've always been one to get super excited about the little things from God - seeing a mother deer & her fawns while out walking early in the morning, the way the clouds look on a cold -- but sunny -- winter day, the lighting or angle I was able to catch in a photo, the quiet snoring/breathing of the LOML as he sleeps beside me, new fuzzy socks or slippers, an apple right off my tree, etc. Often times my descriptions make no sense to anyone by me & God. So, I decided to expand upon those thoughts in a few posts. So... for today... 

Old People - #JoyDare No.2291 on 2/9/14
MY MOM'S BIRTHDAY 2-9-29 - You do the math :)

There's so much background you'd need on me for this post to make complete sense that I'm not quite sure how to begin. I've shared bits & pieces about my "thing about age" over the years of blogging. My great-aunt (1903-2000) used to say, "A true lady never reveals her age." Come to find out when dates were published on their cemetery monuments, she was nearly THREE years older than my great-uncle... scandal of scandals!! Well, for me & the LOML, the difference in their ages isn't all that significant.

As my sisters celebrate their real ages, as my mother celebrates her real age, as my children celebrate their real ages and as the LOML (aka the hubby) celebrates his real age, I continue to celebrate my real birthday, October 10th, and not the age. I just pick & choose what age I want to celebrate for each birthday. Perhaps I'll change that... some year.

Our sweet baby girl
who recently celebrated her
first birthday...
celebrating with some of our
favorite OLD PEOPLE :)

Today we celebrated my mom's birthday with FOUR generations. Our youngest member toddled from one "old person" to another giving hugs & kisses. She drew us all together & reminded us of the energy we used to have! It was a celebration of one person's life. It was a celebration of LIFE!

As we gathered to celebrate my mom's birthday, my uncle wanted to make sure I knew he was the OLDEST... 90 years old. His wife (my mom's older sister) let me know that my mom would kid her for the next 2 months about being 3 years older -- until my aunt celebrated her birthday and the difference was only 2 years. With my uncle it almost seemed to be a badge of honor to be the oldest. I wonder if I'll ever be like that OR sitting in an assisted living facility 40 years from now & trying to convince fellow residents that I'm still too young for Social Security! 


The truth is that I'm also OLD in the eyes of many... my nieces in college... the high school kids behind me in church who are probably wondering why I know all the words to every song... the kids I used to babysit when I was in youth group who are now getting married & starting their own families. I'm even OLD in my own eyes at times when I attempt to do a cartwheel or re-enact a cheerleading dance routine with other of my OLD friends :) And, let's not even discuss the person who welcomes me to a new day each morning in the bathroom mirror!

I'm so very thankful for the people in my life who've lived many years. I'm thankful that they've showed me the way & loved me through all my mistakes and poor choices. I'm thankful my children & my daughter's daughter can be a part of their lives too. These old people have stood the test of time. Their examples have been consistent over the years. Their love for their fellow man has been a constant over the changing times. They haven't chosen to just sit around & wait for their heavenly reward. They are still making a difference in the lives of those around them. I'm so blessed with the heritage I have in these people who call themselves OLD. 

"The glory of the young is their strength; the gray hair of experience is the splendor of the old." Proverbs 20:29

My #JoyDare list for Sunday, 2/9/14:

2289. open spaces

2290. messy rooms

2291. old people

Linking with Ann Voskamp - A Holy Experience today...

Grandma's Lamp

The older I get, it seems the less I knew yesterday & in the years past. I never really cared for the dated accessories my grandmother used in her home. And, yet, many years later I can see them in my mind's eye... the large collie figurine by the fire, the salt & pepper shaker collection displayed throughout the house, the framed sepia pictures of her grandparents long gone from this earth. I remember the scent of the bath soap that was by the tub (Dove) and the hand lotion she kept by the bathroom sink - which she encouraged us to use after we washed our hands (Jergens). I remember how she had a full meal ready for our family when we arrived - no matter the time and that she always called my dad "June" - her abbreviation of junior since he had the name of his father. 

Tonight as I rocked my sweet grand baby to sleep while making up verses to the tune of "Oh How I Love Jesus" (a song I probably sang hundreds of times as a child), I caught a glimpse of the lamp on the nightstand. It was a lamp I never intended to USE in my home. But, when you are paying two mortgages & helping two college students with their education costs, you don't have the luxury of buying new things for each room. You look through the things that others got but didn't want & you accept hand-me-downs that aren't exactly what you'd choose yourself. 

The lamp from my grandmother.
The night light that sat by my bed
as a child.

And, tonight I was peacefully bathed in the pale light from the base of Grandma's lamp. It has to be close to 40 years old. I remember evening prayers at Grandma's house & kisses & the base nightlight being left on - to bring comfort in an unfamiliar setting. I remember that you could barely see that light when the morning came. But, it was perfect in the night. 

I never really thought I'd ever want to have that little lamp. But, tonight it comforted me as I remembered the gentle love of generations of which I am a part. And, it gave me a special feeling of peace that I am able to gently love this new little one. 

"Let each generation tell its children of your mighty acts; let them proclaim your power."

Psalm 145:4



Linking today with...

Gifts from My Mother

Life was simple back then... sometimes hard... but simple...

• wearing hand-me-down clothes from my sister & older girls at church
• buying a Brownie Girl Scout manual & an unused badge at the thrift store instead of paying the monthly dues to actually BE a Brownie
• collecting shiny rocks from the creek bed or abandoned broken charms found in the dust to hide in a small wooden box - to be gazed upon later with wonder
• being the first to church (unlock doors, turn on lights, fold bulletins)
• sitting on the front row with Mom & sisters in clear view of the Pastor - my father!
• being the last at church (clean up, turn off lights, lock doors)
• eating a Sunday meal mainly consisting of the contents in a bag a parishioner had left on the back porch while we were still cleaning up & closing the church

Easter brought a new dress - carefully hand-made by my mom & usually from a bolt of fabric which had been clearanced due to age or "ugly".  The white hat, gloves & shoes were usually from my older sister but, were always clean & looking new for the special day. Family pictures were an important part of the day -- at least catching one or two shots of our "loveliness" :)

Birthday & Christmas gifts consisted of new socks or a new book bag or a gently used winter coat and always brought screams of glee.  A Warner Sallman nightlight purchased at a church convention when I was 3 kept me company in the nights & followed me to the home where I rocked my two little ones.  And, it was several years before I realized that other kids actually got to make a "wish list" for holidays.  My mom had been raised the child of a missionary & minister.  She knew the value of something being needed & useful.  
Mom had a jar on the windowsill by the sink where spare change was saved for missions.  I was naive enough to think that my grandparents (career missionaries to Egypt but in Trinidad at the time) got the actual money I put in the jar.  Each Christmas we walked down the aisle & laid our gift in the manger with all the other Christ Birthday Offerings.

Mom was completely in love with & supportive of my father who set an alarm and woke in the wee hours of the night to read God's Word to prepare for the coming day... and the coming sermons or classes.  He would usually sleep for 30 minutes or so as mom prepared breakfast for our family.  Dad taught a "Pastor's Class" each spring for the 5th & 6th graders. As a young child I listened from outside his study window perched on the shed's roof which leaned against the house -- until I was old enough to actually attend. Mom let me ride along with him for revivals during the summers & gave me hand-made notebooks to take notes of what he said.

Mom was no stranger to tragedy.  Major sacrifice was the only way for her family to make ends meet as they served God abroad & in the states.  A period of time with a "trusted" caregiver ended abruptly and was covered with a cloud of not knowing. It was a different day then & certain things were not faced head on or spoken of. In her teen years, she cared for her mother battling an illness which kept her in bed.  Time with friends was replaced by cooking meals, cleaning house, bathing & caring for her mother.  The early death of her mother brought much uncertainty for the future.

Mom traveled life with bowed head & on bended knee. It was the only way she could go on. It's really the best way for ANY of us to face life.  Her battle to connect with others, after such losses as a young person, was a constant struggle.  Yet, she did her best to make our house a home.  She modeled a truly broken person who got every ounce of strength from somewhere other than herself.  She gave credit to God for every good thing.  She sacrificed for the good of others.  She covered us in prayer trusting that God would give us what she couldn't.

The "gifts" I received from my mom weren't always recognized as gifts.  Many probably wouldn't have been seen as gifts to the world.  And, sometimes, they felt like curses. But, in the hands of God, the lessons I learned through my mom have become wonderful life giving gifts to me.  I intend to pass many of those gifts on to my children.

"God has given each of (us) a gift from his great variety of spiritual gifts.

Use them well to serve one another."

1 Peter 4:10

Special thanks to Ann Voskamp for getting me to think about the many gifts which God has lovingly placed in my life through the life of my mother!  

"Houses may be bought, built, or borrowed.

But homes can only be made.

And only with bits of ourselves."

Ann Voskamp

Linking with Ann Voskamp - A Holy Experience today... 

  

Bloom Where You're Planted

I was richly blessed to be a part of the memorial service honoring the 81-year life of my Uncle Bob from Middletown, OH. Uncle Bob had a sweet spirit and an infectious laugh & smile. His eyes smiled when he talked.  He was married for 53+ years to my dad's sister, Iona.  They loved & served the Lord in such a way that people who observed them truly desired to "have what they had".


I have many fond memories of my Uncle Bob & Aunt Iona from my childhood. My family stopped in Middletown EVERY year before & after Anderson Campmeeting. Their daughter (my cousin, Becky) was a treasured friend from as early as I can remember.  She inherited the gentle spirit and the same infectious laugh & smile of her father.