... what is yours? I have been pondering mine: in part because I'll be wrapping up the working chapter of my life and in part because I've spent some time looking into my grandchildren's eyes ... wondering what their story will be.
I have to admit ... I've never wanted to live forever. Nor do I yet ... but I do wish I had a crystal ball so I could see my grandchildren's futures. I know that their parents will instill in them a solid core. And maybe I'll be able to share some sage advice ... but likely, my gifts to them will be limited to such things as: a decent pair of legs to Sabrina and widow's peaks galore to Rory.
Do you know about NPR's National Story project? The National Story project captured the essence of America in some poignant broadcasts. It morphed into something called "StoryCorps" ... and while none of my stories are as profound or as interesting as what are featured on NPR, one line has resonated with me: everyone ... everyone ... has a story to tell. Many in my family are excellent storytellers ... my mom, Suzanne, Kristen, and Nathan to name but a few. Other members of my family have chosen the written word to tell their story ... my dad's dad, my dad's sister Mamie, and my daughter Becky to name but a few more. Heck, we even have a diary of one of the great-great-great uncles who fought in the Civil War (for the North) and was a prisoner of war at Andersonville, Georgia. My words, written or spoken, can't hold a candle to any of these loved ones. But again ... we all have a story to tell.
So the rest of this story is about my maternal grandmother ... Ellen Sophie ... many in my family bear some bit of her name. For those young'uns in our family, I hope to share with them how wise and wonderful she was. My grandmother was a simple and unassuming woman ... who had to leave school before the 8th grade because HER mother was killed in a summer thunderstorm. A bolt of lightning killed my great-grandmother Ingri ... when she was in her early 30's. She left behind several children with my grandmother, at 11, one of the oldest. So Grandma Ellen learned responsibility early. And, next to cleanliness and godliness ... being responsible for one's own actions was something she taught very well. She and my grandfather usually called me Tina. When I traveled to Denmark, I realized that my name Christine was pronounced with an "a" sound at the end of it. I loved to work alongside my grandmother ... helping with the dishes if she was baking. Learning her tricks-of-the-trade as she baked her way into my heart. Did she impart any bits of wisdom about how to make my way through life? Nope, not one bit. She was born in 1900 and by the time she was in her 60's ... the world had experienced two world wars, one Korean War, and one Vietnam Conflict. Because she was unassuming, I would guess that she didn't think she could prepare me for the world ahead. But indeed, she did. She taught me about working hard, working with those who are less fortunate, and finding some way, however small, to contribute. My grandmother was one of the "church ladies" who worked tirelessly for celebrations and/or sorrows in her church: First Lutheran Church, Sioux Falls, SD. She didn't look for anyone to pat her on the back ... she just rolled up her sleeves and ... well, Nike's "just do it" must have originated with her.
My mom learned all of her mom's lessons well ... but more on Ione, the tireless octogenarian, later ... for now, hats off to Grandma Ellen ... and if you ask nicely, I might share her banana bread recipe! PS. My friend Gail said that she liked the music I chose for my blog. I hadn't even realized that I was doing that ... but yes, I do love music. So for my grandmother ... I choose ... another songbird who gives us ... "The Wind Beneath My Wings" ... because my grandmother was definitely that.
Once upon a time, in the fair Star City of Lincoln, Nebraska, someone had a dream that the little city could become a big city ... if only they had the right type of entertainment area. I --and too many other people "my age"--was a nonbeliever. Rob was not ... he knew that, if we built it ... they would come. And so ... after a successful bond issue and restaurant/hotel tax increases, a beautiful arena arose in the midst of the Haymarket. The Haymarket is located just west of downtown and west of the University campus. It's been a vibrant place for a long time ... converted lofts and lovely restaurants. But the Haymarket started to lose its luster and many were drawn to the Big O of Omaha and their shiny new venues, including a huge arena. A little history on the Haymarket: long ago, it was a place where farmers brought their hay to sell or to move elsewhere, via the iron horse. The train station still stands ... but now, the area around it has grown exponentially. Estimating 20 new restaurants in the Canopy Street area (so named for the canopy that overhung the distance between the train station and the train ... allowing passengers to board trains without getting wet) and/or the Rail Yard (no explanation needed). The new arena ... the Pinnacle Bank Arena ... has brought with it new life to the Haymarket. Last night was the opening night for the Pinnacle Arena's concert series ... and it began with a bang ... Michael Buble. The arena holds 12,000 to 14,000 depending on the type of event. Last night, 12,000 souls made their way to the Pin. It was fantabulous. Michael Buble paid homage to the fact that he was chosen to christen the new arena by mentioning Lincoln and personalizing nearly every aspect of his performance. He even donned a Husker jersey for one of the sets. Most poignantly, he dedicated the evening's performance to Jack Hoffman ... read my past blog to learn about this fearless youngster who has captured the heart of Nebraska ... and won an ESPY while doing so for his run-back during the Spring Game. (Jack, btw, is listed on the Husker roster as a "running back" ... weighing 72 pounds and in 2nd grade ... very cool.) Then the award-winning story of Jack and his magic run was shown before Michael Buble began his set series. Amazing. Rob is not generally drawn into events that require audience participation ... especially singing. But there is something about Michael Buble ... whether or not you like his style of music ... that puts a smile on your face and a song in your heart .. and sometimes the song bubbles up and out of your mouth to join the others singing: "All you need is love." Yes, even Rob succumbed. Me? Well, you should know me by now ... I was singing, dancing, and reaching for the confetti hearts that were blowing everywhere. It was a magical night. Thank you, Lincoln, for changing the face of our city ... bringing us great acts like The Eagles, Pink, Elton John, and Jason Aldean ... and that just the October/early November list! Thank you for bringing us the Rail Yard ... where one can sip a cocktail and then walk around with it ... outside into the night ... within a prescribed area, of course. There was definitely a party going on last night in Lincoln.
I think that this is more of a postscript to my last post. Because I forgot to include the excitement of Saturday night ... when it hailed so hard in Sioux Falls that the roof on Target was "rent" and lightning hit gas lines INSIDE the building. The hail also broke out windows of cars in the parking lot.
And, of course, our lovely hotel (because there are too many of us to stay with Mom) was 6 blocks (per my brother ... ) from Target. Yikes. I was babysitting that night after the birthday dinner and a movie. Everyone left ... but Becky & Brian and we discussed the foreboding thunder clouds. We agreed that if the weather got bad, I would take my relatively new car across the street ... and park under the gas station's canopy.
What none of us had factored in was my lack of a car seat (yeah, the babysitting part of the night). But they left ... with Sabrina was sound asleep. Within 30 minutes, I had turned on the local news and weather, to learn that golf-ball size hail would be hitting in 8 minutes. Sent a quick text to Becky who gave me permission to bundle Sabrina into the car ... and off we went.
Nothing like tearing through a hotel with a just-awakened two-year old in your arms. "GeeCee ... where are we going?" (I've taught her to respond by saying "Going crazy ...") I said, "to the car, Sabrina." "Not going crazy, GeeCee?" Not yet, Sabrina Fair, not yet.
We hit the lobby at a dead run ... racing out into the pouring rain with Sabrina chortling with glee. "It's dark!!" (No kidding, kid!) "It's really raining." (Yes, Sabrina. And gulp, yes, she was soaked ... but I had that new car to rescue.)
We traveled the few feet to the car where I did at least buckle her in before I took off like a bat out of hell ... and traveled all of 30 feet to the canopy at the hotel. (No one else had thought to park there.) Here's where we stay!
There was baseball-sized hail everywhere ... forget golf ball-sized! But not a dent in my beauty of a car. Nor on my beauty of a granddaughter. Me ... I thought I was having a heart attack ... I am NOT used to running full-board for that long!
And lest you think I'm totally obsessive (which could be somewhat accurate) about my car ... my past 4 cars, all purchased new, have each been hailed on in Sioux Falls some time during their first two years of life! But so far ... not the Audi.
PS ... Becky said that the next day, they got into her car and Sabrina immediately tried to get into the front seat ... and looked at them as if to say, "Hey, but GeeCee lets me ..."
This past weekend found my mom celebrating her 88th birthday. Would that all of us could live so long ... and live half-as-energetically as my mom does!! She's fearless ... and that includes looking at the rest of her life and having a realistic appreciation that every birthday needs to count. And that's the lesson of the day, my friends ... make every birthday count ... live each day as if it were your final day ... starting with ... telling those you love that you do indeed love and cherish them.
We didn't grow up in a household that said "I love you" easily. It just wasn't part of my childhood. And yet ... there was not one day that I didn't feel loved and cherished by my parents, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles ... and some days ... my brothers and sisters. (We were kids ... we didn't always get along with one another.) Yes, we need more love in the world ... and yes, it's nice to hear it ... but it's MUCH better to live it ... so that your children feel it. I can't imagine a better gift ... and, as the refrain goes ... I'm trying now to be the person that my grandchildren believe I am!
Or I'm trying to be the person that my mom is ... someone who cares deeply for those less fortunate than she. Someone who still visits nursing homes ... even if she's a decade older than some of her "patients." After all ... she only gave up delivering meals on wheels in her early 80's. And she still cooks a meal and then serves it at the St. Francis House for those who only have one meal a day that they can count on.
When we give a party for my mom ... everyone comes who can. We have had as many as 60 in her backyard (at her 85th birthday). Her immediate family comes in one iteration or another ... this year it was her three oldest children and her oldest grandchild who made the trek. Suzanne helped us remember the "days gone by" as she sifted through Mom's photos ... finding pictures of when we were young. Well, we may no longer be young but we are still the luckiest family around ... because we have each other.
Those of you who have been around me when I've celebrated some milestone birthdays will remember my constant toast to my mom ... "To the woman who taught me all I know about joy." And that's a lot ... she's a joyful person. In my soul, I am, too. Some call it optimism. Some call it silliness.I know it's joy! Here's a little of both to welcome September!
