Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?
The challenge for week 4 was "Invite to Dinner". Sounds straightforward enough. Who knew it could actually be so complicated?
Who would I invite to dinner? I thought. The person that immediately sprang to mind was my Mother, who passed away in 2014. She is incredibly missed each and every day. I remember listening to folks speak of her at her memorial service, and finding myself wondering if I had ever really known this lady I called Mama at all. I learned things about her then ... and although they were things about her that didn't surprise me, they were just things I never knew, and suddenly was feeling like I has missed out on. I had lived in close contact with her for years on end ... how could I know so little about her? There were so many questions I would have loved to ask, and I was so wishing to hear her voice and her laugh again ... she seemed like an obvious choice.
Then I thought of my beloved Grandfather, Glenn. This man was always such a presence in my life, and I miss him. I named my oldest son after him. Grandpa had passed away in December of 2003, after a long battle with Alzheimer's, and just a month before I discovered I was expecting his first great-grandchild. We hadn't found out before our oldest was born whether it would be a boy or a girl, and when the baby was born, I had to remind the doctor that I didn't know what it was ... she had forgotten I hadn't found out ahead of time. When the nurse called out that it was a boy, my husband leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Looks like God gave Glenn back to you." Even now, the memory brings tears to my eyes. There are so many things I would love to hear his perspective on now, just because of how my life has changed in the 14 years since he left us.
So many other "dinner" possibilities ran through my head as I looked through old photographs and reviewed information in the family tree. Perhaps I would choose great-great-Grandfather Ritchie, who had been a Texas Ranger in the 1870s.
Or great-great Grandfather Rogers who had fought for the South during the Civil War, and then moved his family by covered wagon to Texas where he spent his life farming and working as a Baptist preacher.
Perhaps I would choose the distant ancestor who was born in northern Ireland in the late 1600s, and came to America in 1729 at the "ripe old age" of 56. The ancestors who fought in the Revolutionary War. The one who committed suicide. There are so many choices, and so many questions I'd love to ask.
In the end, I always seemed to find myself coming back to my maternal Grandmother, May Elizabeth (Lewis) Nelson. I didn't get to know her quite as well growing up as I did my Rogers grandparents, just because I wasn't able to spend as much time with her. She was a strong and loving lady, though ... she had grown up in a family of Texas sharecroppers, and knew what it was like to be poor. She grew up around extended family members who were not always the nicest people, and yet she was one of the nicest people I knew. She dealt with hardships and struggles, and somehow always managed to keep putting one foot in front of the other. And she loved to laugh. She's been gone almost 10 years, and despite all the memories that seem to gradually fade, I can still hear her laugh.
Most of all, I think, she seemed to stay grounded in her faith, which may account for her strength and her courage. When other family members were not always trying to behave in Christian ways, from what I knew of her, she did. I'd love to be able to talk to her and ask her how she managed to weather so many storms and still be the person she was. When I struggle in my own life, especially since the unexpected death of my Mom, I think of her. I was re-reading some handwritten memories she recorded the 1990's yesterday, I was struck by an entry that read, "I know all things end and also know this is how God set it up. Still is rather sad to lose so many dreams and loved ones as I get older. Try not to let it get me down." Then she went on to talk about the blessings of health and home, family and church brethren, and the wonder of God's creation.
I'm still listening Grandma ... tell me more.
Who would I invite to dinner? I thought. The person that immediately sprang to mind was my Mother, who passed away in 2014. She is incredibly missed each and every day. I remember listening to folks speak of her at her memorial service, and finding myself wondering if I had ever really known this lady I called Mama at all. I learned things about her then ... and although they were things about her that didn't surprise me, they were just things I never knew, and suddenly was feeling like I has missed out on. I had lived in close contact with her for years on end ... how could I know so little about her? There were so many questions I would have loved to ask, and I was so wishing to hear her voice and her laugh again ... she seemed like an obvious choice.
Then I thought of my beloved Grandfather, Glenn. This man was always such a presence in my life, and I miss him. I named my oldest son after him. Grandpa had passed away in December of 2003, after a long battle with Alzheimer's, and just a month before I discovered I was expecting his first great-grandchild. We hadn't found out before our oldest was born whether it would be a boy or a girl, and when the baby was born, I had to remind the doctor that I didn't know what it was ... she had forgotten I hadn't found out ahead of time. When the nurse called out that it was a boy, my husband leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Looks like God gave Glenn back to you." Even now, the memory brings tears to my eyes. There are so many things I would love to hear his perspective on now, just because of how my life has changed in the 14 years since he left us.
So many other "dinner" possibilities ran through my head as I looked through old photographs and reviewed information in the family tree. Perhaps I would choose great-great-Grandfather Ritchie, who had been a Texas Ranger in the 1870s.
Or great-great Grandfather Rogers who had fought for the South during the Civil War, and then moved his family by covered wagon to Texas where he spent his life farming and working as a Baptist preacher.
Perhaps I would choose the distant ancestor who was born in northern Ireland in the late 1600s, and came to America in 1729 at the "ripe old age" of 56. The ancestors who fought in the Revolutionary War. The one who committed suicide. There are so many choices, and so many questions I'd love to ask.
In the end, I always seemed to find myself coming back to my maternal Grandmother, May Elizabeth (Lewis) Nelson. I didn't get to know her quite as well growing up as I did my Rogers grandparents, just because I wasn't able to spend as much time with her. She was a strong and loving lady, though ... she had grown up in a family of Texas sharecroppers, and knew what it was like to be poor. She grew up around extended family members who were not always the nicest people, and yet she was one of the nicest people I knew. She dealt with hardships and struggles, and somehow always managed to keep putting one foot in front of the other. And she loved to laugh. She's been gone almost 10 years, and despite all the memories that seem to gradually fade, I can still hear her laugh.
Most of all, I think, she seemed to stay grounded in her faith, which may account for her strength and her courage. When other family members were not always trying to behave in Christian ways, from what I knew of her, she did. I'd love to be able to talk to her and ask her how she managed to weather so many storms and still be the person she was. When I struggle in my own life, especially since the unexpected death of my Mom, I think of her. I was re-reading some handwritten memories she recorded the 1990's yesterday, I was struck by an entry that read, "I know all things end and also know this is how God set it up. Still is rather sad to lose so many dreams and loved ones as I get older. Try not to let it get me down." Then she went on to talk about the blessings of health and home, family and church brethren, and the wonder of God's creation.
I'm still listening Grandma ... tell me more.
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