Eighty-four and ready for more
I think about how the world's changed, what I've lost, what I've gained--
I can't imagine what life will be like twenty years from now, let alone forty or sixty, or sixty-three. My whole life, times four.
But she's there. Silver hair and those same old hands that aren't quite clammy and surely aren't smooth.
She's got a mark on each that proves her: angled fingers, deep wrinkles. The product of a crocheted afghan on beds and couches of each daughter, daughter-in-law, granddaughter. I can think of a dozen that I've seen, yarn with love in every stitch, as she says.
Those strings have wrapped us warm in California and the Midwest and between, and out to Boston. I should ask the widowed sister-in-law who never knew of my birth: did Grandma's stitches come abroad on the trip when the first of her line didn't return a breath of American air? Do you, Auntie, ever wrap your self in old stitches in January or May and June?
But Grandma's hands---they've rolled dough. Sour. Cookie. Aunt Alice.
They've iced and cooled and burned and held. Before meals in her pale kitchen--softer than pastels, safer than our own--her hands are what hold us to stand, not our feet.
There are stories of matriarchs of centuries ago. I don't know if the memoirs she asked for will ever be written, but that woman, B. B. Hanlon, Becky, little sister, Grandma, GG, beautiful, wonderful, spiritual, that impossible combination of grace and wisdom, she'll be one of those stories. Let's see to it.
Readers, I'll be printing comments on this and bringing them to Grandma Becky over the weekend. If you're a cousin, aunt, former in-law, CCU classmate, whatever---and you have a comment you'd like to share for her birthday, please post! She will be very blessed, even just to have a "Grandma Becky! Happy birthday! Thanks for the monster cookies and for being great!" note. If you don't have access to comment (I haven't quite figured out how that works yet), you can message or email me (emilyymariee@gmail.com). Love to all.
As always, thanks for reading.
Happy birthday, grandma. I hope your day was blessed. Thank you for being so wonderful. Having you to visit this Christmas season was wonderful. I'm sending love from Chicago, you are in my thoughts and prayers each and every day.
ReplyDelete-Annie
PS EMILY I THINK I JUST MADE A BLOG JUST TO COMMENT THIS. JUST WHAT I NEED, ANOTHER SOCIAL NETWORKING SITE ;)
I remember when I was little and got sick. She would put me in her bed and tell me she wished she could be sick for me.
ReplyDeleteI remember her as my girl scout leader.
I remember when she would let me have a friend walk home from elementary school at lunch and treat us to crackers and cheese and soup.
I remember asking her what was for dinner because it smelled so good and then I would pester with when will it be done?
I remember her teaching me good manners like not to interupt when she had a guest over and to think of how my actions affected others.
I remember trips to Kansas every summer and Disneyland once just with Momma and Kate.
Well, of course, there was good cooking and sewing, but moreover good mothering and love.
Happy 84th Dear Mother.
Grandma,
ReplyDeleteHappy 84th Birthday!
You are a blessing. That is the best and only way to describe you - a blessing. You are a prime example of someone living out God's purpose for their life. You are focused (and sometimes downright stubborn) on the path that God has laid out for you. From the thousands of delicious recipes that you make with love to the words of wisdom you share on a constant basis, in everything you do you strive to bless others.
Your “statement” for your 84th year is “84 and ready for more.” God is full of surprises and I hope and pray that this year, your 84th year, the “more” in that statement is God blessing you over and over again. You have worked hard, Grandma and deserve an over-the-top blessed year!
Thank you for your patience and ability to constantly forgive “busy schedules.” Thank you for always reminding me to just talk with God and let Him be part of my every day. Thank you for always encouraging Michael and I and our walk with God. Thank you for all the hugs, kisses, presents, meals made with love, and encouragement you give all of us on a daily basis.
I love you very much, Grandma. Happy birthday!
I am blessed to be,
Your Granddaughter Meagen
Happy Birthday Day Granma!
ReplyDeleteI don't care what anybody says, if were going to be talking about blankets, the conversation about which is best starts and ends with the denim comforter that I've been sleeping with for twenty-some years. Blanket don't get better than that.
I loved having you here during the holidays and wish you would come back soon (even though it's a little like you are still here cause it's been about a month since you left and I'm still eating monster cookies and chex mix).
Love you Granma,
T.j.
"..the impossible combination of grace and wisdom" -that's my favorite line. Mom, when you saw the picture of yourself from Christmas, you said, "I look so old!" A friend at work was nearly moved to tears when she saw that picture. She doesn't know you, but she saw it, "the impossible combination of grace and wisdom." The deeply etched lines and beautiful gray hair instantaneously told her much about you. Sooo, it is here "on the web" in your granddaughter's beautifully written words, and it is there in color. Read Emily's post entitled "Today I Believe It" and believe it about yourself. You are gifted with grace and wisdom and love from on high. Thank you, for continuously blessing each of us with your gifts. Happy Birthday! Love, Kate
ReplyDeleteDear Grandma,
ReplyDeleteI have nothing but gratitude for the God that has kept you in my life for 30 years (and I in yours). Words will escape me, but as long as I have breath the noble burdens you have borne will inspire me and renew my call to serve others. I only wish that you had eighty four more years so that those you have carried might carry you, and bless you with their prayers and the infinite beauty of their hands' work....I love your weathered face, and the hands bent to labor. I find it impossible to believe that God will let you go, because your prayer is to be useful, and you have never been more so; but when he does, i can imagine the uproarious joy at the gates, so loud that if we listen, I bet we'll here it's echo here. I love you, Grandma, and you will always walk with me and in me, my whole life through.