Cherished Memories
Yesterday I attended a funeral for a man I had only met a few times. I went, not because he meant so much to me, but because I love and support his daughters and granddaughters, one of whom is married to my son. This man has made a huge impact on my son. To what degree, remains to be seen.
The visitation on the previous evening was well attended. Hundreds of people waited in line in the heat while people hugged his widow and his daughters. It's a large family, and they are very close, literally, because most of them live within a couple miles of each other. They're not only family, they are friends, neighbors and co-workers. They are a tight-knit group. My son is fortunate to have married into such a wonderful family.
Personally, I can't speak to the character of this man, but the sound of sniffles and the constant patting of people's hands on each other's backs as they embraced in long, tight hugs, spoke volumes of the love that existed between family and friends.
His granddaughter Laken, who is my daughter-in-law, had a fresh tattoo over her heart. It was her grandpa's actual signature that she had taken from some document he had signed. Beside it, an angel wing.
As we left the visitation Thursday evening, I said to my husband, "I hope that if something ever happens to you or me, that our grandchildren love us enough to rush out and have our names tattooed on their bodies."
We talked about the reasons why many, if not most, families are not that close and we agreed that it's mostly because of the geographical distance between them. It's one thing to love your grandparent that you see on major holidays, but it's quite another to love the grandparent that spends evenings helping you work on your truck, or teaching you how to ride a horse, or sitting around a campfire, shootin' the breeze. Losing them is a double-whammy. You lose a grandparent and you lose your buddy.
This is the second time this year I've been to a funeral like this. My best friend's grandma died earlier this year, and as I sat there, listening to several grandchildren and great-grandchildren joke about who was her favorite, and share story after story of things they did with her, I thought, "that's the kind of grandma I want to be."
I used to love to hold my granny's hand when I was little and feel her bony, thin-skinned fingers holding mine. I used to rub her fingernails with the pad of my fingers. It was a feeling I'll never forget. We spent hours talking about anything and everything. She was my confidant when I was mad at my mom. As a teenager I would do her grocery shopping for her. She taught my brother to drive. Even though she only lived close to me for a few years of my life, those were years that I will cherish in my heart forever.
My other granny had arms that jiggled when you poked them and she made the most amazing fried chicken and white gravy. My mouth is watering just typing this. She bought me Nestle Quick and let me drink as much of it as I wanted. Visiting her house was like a slice of heaven on earth.
I hope that I brought them as much joy as the memories I have of them bring to me. Proverbs 17:6 says that "Children's children are a crown to the aged..." I'm not crazy about being in the 'aged' category, but my grand children are a crown to me. Precious. Valuable.
I told my husband that maybe we should take our 20 acre homestead and give a couple acres to each of our kids so they could build homes and be close Our grandchildren would be able to visit us anytime. His silence told me he didn't totally disagree.
What's left when we're gone? A legacy, which is defined as anything handed down from the past. What will your legacy be? Will your children's children remember spending time with you, holding your hand, sharing secrets and Snicker's ice cream bars? Will it be a legacy of love and laughter? I want them to have so many memories that they can't even begin to share them all. Big things and little things. But a legacy won't happen by accident. We have to be intentional about it, seeking out opportunities to create memories with our children's children.
If this sounds foreign to you, or if it's been a wish of yours to be close to your grandchildren, but it hasn't happened, please know that if you're still breathing, it's not too late. Don't wait for your disconnected grandchildren to call you. They don't know what they're missing. You do.
After the funeral, my 15 year-old son shared a profound observation with me (which I'm sure he didn't come up with, but he remembered it from somewhere) about how life is like a triangle of time, money and energy. He said, "When you're young, you have time and energy but no money. When you're older, like your age (looking at me), you have money and energy but no time, and when you're really old you have time and money but no energy." I suppose I should be glad he doesn't consider me 'real old' yet.
I need to get busy making memories with my grandchildren before I slide over to the 'no energy' side of the equation. Remember, we can't change the past, and we are not promised tomorrow. Today is a gift. That's why we call it the present.
Be blessed.
The visitation on the previous evening was well attended. Hundreds of people waited in line in the heat while people hugged his widow and his daughters. It's a large family, and they are very close, literally, because most of them live within a couple miles of each other. They're not only family, they are friends, neighbors and co-workers. They are a tight-knit group. My son is fortunate to have married into such a wonderful family.
Personally, I can't speak to the character of this man, but the sound of sniffles and the constant patting of people's hands on each other's backs as they embraced in long, tight hugs, spoke volumes of the love that existed between family and friends.
His granddaughter Laken, who is my daughter-in-law, had a fresh tattoo over her heart. It was her grandpa's actual signature that she had taken from some document he had signed. Beside it, an angel wing. As we left the visitation Thursday evening, I said to my husband, "I hope that if something ever happens to you or me, that our grandchildren love us enough to rush out and have our names tattooed on their bodies."
We talked about the reasons why many, if not most, families are not that close and we agreed that it's mostly because of the geographical distance between them. It's one thing to love your grandparent that you see on major holidays, but it's quite another to love the grandparent that spends evenings helping you work on your truck, or teaching you how to ride a horse, or sitting around a campfire, shootin' the breeze. Losing them is a double-whammy. You lose a grandparent and you lose your buddy.
This is the second time this year I've been to a funeral like this. My best friend's grandma died earlier this year, and as I sat there, listening to several grandchildren and great-grandchildren joke about who was her favorite, and share story after story of things they did with her, I thought, "that's the kind of grandma I want to be."
I used to love to hold my granny's hand when I was little and feel her bony, thin-skinned fingers holding mine. I used to rub her fingernails with the pad of my fingers. It was a feeling I'll never forget. We spent hours talking about anything and everything. She was my confidant when I was mad at my mom. As a teenager I would do her grocery shopping for her. She taught my brother to drive. Even though she only lived close to me for a few years of my life, those were years that I will cherish in my heart forever.
My other granny had arms that jiggled when you poked them and she made the most amazing fried chicken and white gravy. My mouth is watering just typing this. She bought me Nestle Quick and let me drink as much of it as I wanted. Visiting her house was like a slice of heaven on earth.
I hope that I brought them as much joy as the memories I have of them bring to me. Proverbs 17:6 says that "Children's children are a crown to the aged..." I'm not crazy about being in the 'aged' category, but my grand children are a crown to me. Precious. Valuable.
I told my husband that maybe we should take our 20 acre homestead and give a couple acres to each of our kids so they could build homes and be close Our grandchildren would be able to visit us anytime. His silence told me he didn't totally disagree.
What's left when we're gone? A legacy, which is defined as anything handed down from the past. What will your legacy be? Will your children's children remember spending time with you, holding your hand, sharing secrets and Snicker's ice cream bars? Will it be a legacy of love and laughter? I want them to have so many memories that they can't even begin to share them all. Big things and little things. But a legacy won't happen by accident. We have to be intentional about it, seeking out opportunities to create memories with our children's children.
If this sounds foreign to you, or if it's been a wish of yours to be close to your grandchildren, but it hasn't happened, please know that if you're still breathing, it's not too late. Don't wait for your disconnected grandchildren to call you. They don't know what they're missing. You do.
After the funeral, my 15 year-old son shared a profound observation with me (which I'm sure he didn't come up with, but he remembered it from somewhere) about how life is like a triangle of time, money and energy. He said, "When you're young, you have time and energy but no money. When you're older, like your age (looking at me), you have money and energy but no time, and when you're really old you have time and money but no energy." I suppose I should be glad he doesn't consider me 'real old' yet.
Be blessed.
I love this. I'm trying to leave a legacy. Thank you Lynn by showing us how important it is. My father did as so did my mother. My mother's cooking. . And my father's sharp mind.
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