Ancestors

Mom told me today that it is my paternal grandmother’s birthday.

She was some lady.

Thinking about her today makes me wish I had been proactive about asking her to tell me stories…not just the ones that were for entertainment purposes, but HER stories…what it was like for her growing up, as a young wife and mother, when she was older and traveling to visit her children.

I was intimidated by her for reasons I couldn’t really grasp. I must have felt on some level that this quiet woman with the piercing gaze would judge me as being a flibbertigibbet. She had seen so much, endured so much…things I couldn’t grasp then and struggle to grasp now, especially since my opportunities to hear first-person accounts of her are dwindling.

I remember she was one of the first to know I was pregnant with my second child. I confided in her that I was afraid…not of the impending birth, but…I loved my first child so very much…what if I didn’t have enough love for two. I remember her sitting in the recliner in the living room of the duplex we lived in…she chuckled softly and told me that having another baby was like building another room onto your heart. There would always be plenty of love for more.

I have seen that to be true, of course…not just for my beautiful boys, but also for the multitude of academic children I have…I love them, too, you see.

In hindsight I see that Grandma loved me, too…through all of it…it’s just a given. I still wish I could talk to her today…I have questions (not the least of which is how long do these @#$% hot flashes last?)…Is it strange that I miss this woman that I hardly knew? She kept the secrets and stories of our family like no other.

Don’t waste opportunities…if your ancestors are still alive, talk to them. Ask them to tell their stories, and yours…before they are gone forever because of death or dementia. Write it down or record it. Encourage other family members to do the same. The different people listening or reading will provide other perspectives.

Just do it.