57 minutes and counting

I have not panicked yet.  It has been 57 minutes since I officially retired.  Sounds so very ominous. Conjures up pictures in my mind of little blue haired ladies with walkers swapping gossip in the retirement home.  But I know that is not so.  At least I hope not.

I do have a heritage of retirees to follow.  My grandparents set up the first school district in Greeley County Kansas, worked hard all their lives, lost everything they owned twice, and yet, at 60 set off on a new adventure to build a farm.  They did so, and did it fabulously, and that was the soil I sprang out of.  Not the actual soil, the soil of my heritage.  My father, who retired at 62, became more busy, with a purpose, after he retired, just teaching the word of God to every soul he could find. He is in a nursing home now, at 88, and still grabbing people by the ear and saying, "listen to me." 

Before them, there were the great grandparents who traveled cross country, fought in the civil war, and yet came to Kansas to build a farm and a home.  I could keep going on, traversing the generations, but that list would be endless.

It appears that we Linns' don't find something to really sink our teeth into until our teeth are ready to fall out. So since I am on the fairly youngish side of retirement, perhaps there is something beside my art work and my writing that I will find to put myself to good use.

But today, its that first day of retirement.  I am jittery still, perhaps a little excited, maybe a little lost.  I am sure God will provide me with tasks and a map to do whatever it is He has set before me.   
As my grandfather used to say, "Use it up, wear it out, make it do."  I used to think that was in reference to my bike tires, or the dress I so longed to throw in the trash, but when I look back, I can see that was exactly what he did with himself, right up to the very last minute.  I think I still may have some wear in me, before I hit the used up part.  Then I will just have to make do.

Copyright © 2010 by Susan Linn-Gomez. All Rights Reserved.

Did Abraham have the jitters??

Tomorrow is the last day of my job.  I am retiring after 28 years of work, and I am nervous.  I started this part of my journey back in September, or maybe even before that, when I decided that the work I am doing was not helping anyone, and that is where my heart is.  In obedience to that call on my life, I submitted paperwork, went to retirement seminars, calculated and recalculated my options, picked and repicked my options, and on and on ad nauseum.  I am now on the threshold of the new life, and I feel squeamish, nervous, giddy, you name it. 


I wondered in this process how Abraham felt when God said "Go and I will show you. "  It's not like he had God right there in the car seat next to him, saying "turn left at the camel, then right at the well."  He had to go blind into it.  Sort of like I am doing, only he didn't have any retirement to fall back on.  He also had a wife, and servants and his nephew and lots of other people who decided they would go with, just for the ride.  I don't have any of that.  It's me, and the cat.  The cat don't care, long as the food dish is full, and he is not on the way to the vet.  I seem to be the only one who is jittery and nervous. 


To be fair, Abraham didn't have a heap of paperwork to fill out either, and if he had, I wonder if he would have.  I mean back then they didn't even have passports.  He could go and come and go and come, cross country lines and make his own darn country.


The thing is, he didn't.  He went where God told him to, did what God said, well, except for a couple of times that we are all still paying for, but in general, he was a pretty humble sort of dude, who knew that God had his best interest at heart. 


And I know that too.  God has a plan for my life.  The problem is, I always seem to get in the way of that plan.  Seems I am always putting my fingers in the gear mechanism of the plan machine, and fouling up not only the plan, but my fingers. 


And I guess that is why I am so nervous.  My track record in these things stinks.  I am hoping and praying that God doesn't let me fall flat on my face this time, so close to the finish line.  I am trusting the best I know how, just by doing what I am told. 


I will let you know tomorrow if I smashed my hand or not. 

Copyright © 2010 by Susan Linn-Gomez. All Rights Reserved.

And so it is Christmas...

And so it is Christmas.  Once again, the hustle and bustle of a Holiday that has been honored for centuries.  Once again, for me, the hustle and bustle of preparing for THE day with my family.  Over the years, that family has included not just myself and my children, but sisters and brothers, friends, and some people who came and went because they had no where else to go.  It has been a most satisfying time of year for me, cooking for a small army and wrapping presents and delivering them, and all the other stuff that goes along with it.

But this year is different.  This year my children, the grown ups, decided that they would take over the fort of Christmas and do it all.  Yes, this is my first year not cooking for the army, and just relaxing in the presence of the family God gave me.  I am a bit amazed at it all, the preparation going on behind my back that is, because I was always the one in the Christmas Sleuth business.  But I have been dethroned, at least this year, and for this time, I am grateful.

I have been pushing myself pretty hard the last two years, taking care of my Dad, taking care of family, and working full time.  Little by little I have watched the spark take longer to ignite in the morning.  Little by little I have begun to drift into daydreams of days gone by.  I guess that is how getting older happens.  Little by little.  But it is not all a bad thing.



For years I have confronted life as a foot race.  A 50 yard dash to be exact.  Breaking my leg in a gazillion pieces only set me back a couple of years, and I picked right up and carried on.  But during those years I started to learn that life is not a foot race, it is a marathon with no end that is evident.  I took pride in baking 30 or 40 pies and delivering them to the jail.  I took pride in being sole cook and cleanup artist for an army of 25.  I took pride in being the one who paid for every ounce of it, not just with money, but with headaches and aching backs.  And in taking pride in all of it, I missed most of it.  Oh, I did try to teach my children family traditions, and we will see how that plays out tomorrow.  But most of all, I just missed a lot of laughter and fun that was going on, while I was just too busy.

This year is different.  They are taking over, and I am letting them.  This next year is going to be significantly different for me, since I retire in just 8 days.  Although I am nervous about giving up the reigns of my life, I realize that this is what God would have had me do all along. Give Him the reigns, let Him delegate the work, instead of trying to do it all myself.

Tomorrow I am going to focus on what this season is all about.  And for me, and millions of others, it is about Jesus.  I want to spend time not just with my family, but with my savior, and rest in His love.  I want to kneel, not at the foot of a manger, but at the foot of the cross that would be the fruit of that manger.  I want to bask in the blessings of the family He has given me, and marvel at the works of His wondrous hands.  I want to spend tomorrow not just it joy, but in thanksgiving.

I hope for all of you that you have a most beautiful day.  I know I will.  :)

Copyright © 2010 by Susan Linn-Gomez. All Rights Reserved.

Plans, Plans, Plans and a map please..

Monday, December 13, 2010.

All in all, it was a beautiful day.  I worked hard on getting all my caseload done, since (counting down) I only have 13 more days of work before I am officially retired.  Well, sort of retired, and sort of still working.  Let us just say that I will not be doing what I am doing now.  Now that is something worth saying! And that is a high. 

I really didn’t have any lows.  I was on fire, burning up the keyboard, attempting to do something that everyone says is impossible.  What to say to impossible?  It means a person didn’t really try.  So there is where I am at today. Give it the good old college try.

And what if I fail?  I will still be retired!!  And that is a high.

Plans?  Lots of them.  Spend more time with my kids and grandkids.  Spend more time with my brothers.  Spend more time with my friends.  Write more, paint more, read more, go to church more.  Go back home and hang out by the river before the mosquito season hits. 

Plans, Plans, Plans…  The Bible says that without a vision the people perish.  I guess that means we are supposed to plan as if we are going to do something, work like we are going to achieve something, and leave the rest up to God. 

To start off with, this entire retirement thing hit me one day when I realized that in my current position I am doing nothing to benefit anyone.  All I am doing is making money.  But as far as that benefits anyone, it is not enough to benefit anyone except to keep a roof over my head and clothes on my back.  But it is not doing anything for anyone who really needs it.  I feel drawn to the homeless, to the sick, to the elderly, to those in need.  I feel that I have a calling upon my life to benefit someone else besides myself.  Now I just need a plan.  I don’t want to be heading out the door to some unknown destination, just hoping that I will find what I am looking for.

Thinking about that, I stopped myself.  That is exactly what Abraham did.  He heard God’s call on his life, picked up all his stuff, loaded the family in the CAR a VAN… and off he went. Destination Unknown.  He didn’t know where, or what.  He just knew that God had a plan, and all he had to do was follow the instructions. 

There is so much need out there, so many who need comfort, food, shelter, a home and love.  Now where to start…  Lord, I need an instruction manual (oh I wait I have that..) and a plan (Oh wait, God has that.).. I guess I am armed with all I need.  Just days until I set off on my own Car A Van…

Copyright © 2010 by Susan Linn-Gomez. All Rights Reserved.

If I have to say JOY! ONE MORE TIME PLEASE SHOOT ME...

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Lunch with the Hens, as my daughter calls them is always a refreshing experience for me.  Although we come from different walks of life, and are at different stages of life, somehow we all just click.  Positive end to my day.   

Friday, December 3, 2010

It is Friday.  Need I say more?  What more joy could be had than to have the week finished, and finished well?

Saturday December 4, 2010

Busiest day of the week.  Time to breathe?  No. 

Sunday December 5, 2010

My pastor has eyes in the back and sides as well as the front of his head. Or so my friend, Terri and have always thought.  We thought that sometimes he must have been spying on us to see if he could find new material.  But no, it was the Holy Spirit telling him just what to say.  Today he covered Phillipians 4, verse 1.  Stand fast.  Lord I am standing, but it hurts.  Where is my joy?  What kind of challenge has this become?  Will I be defeated by my own lack of ability to see your hand working in my life?

Monday, some day in December.  

Pain. Pain and more pain.  I am attempting to finish 2 months worth of work by the 31^st.  That is the day I retire, and I want to go out on the top of my game.  Just in case, I have to come back.  But sitting too long in front of a computer is just what the doctor told me NOT to do, and that is what I have been doing.  I decided that the blog would have to wait while I temporarily experience a setback.  To top it off, when I got home from the nursing home, the dog had eaten my snowman.  Not a literal snowman even, but a stuffed one, since here in Southern Arizona the chance of seeing enough snow to make one is slim to none.  She dismantled all of his parts, left his fluff and his left arm and the bell on his head, and ate the sleigh. 

I called my friend, Rosie, who was just returning from her Chemo treatment.  She said she had tried really hard to find joy in the pink fluffy clouds, but was thinking she needed to draw on the joy bank.  Sort of like a piggy bank, but full of stored happiness, giggles, and remembrances.   I think I need to do the same thing.  Wish I could find a big jar to stuff the joy into.  

Tuesday, the day after yesterday.

After a long day of work, more sitting, more pain, I left for the nursing home and on my way home, my daughter called.  She said the dog was blue.  I figured perhaps she was suffering from separation anxiety, since I haven’t been able to take her on regular walks lately, but no, she just ate my favorite pen.  How do you get ink out of a dog? 

Wednesday, Again.  How long can one sit at a computer, really? Has there been a marathon event established for this?  How many inane phone calls can a human being tolerate? How many crashes of Excel and Word documents?  How do people do this all their lives?  I find myself bankrupt of joy today, or at least of happiness. 

Until my daughter sends me an email.  Her job was ending in January, and she had to apply for her own job (sounds like a government conspiracy to me) but then they told her about an administrative job.  Today she found out that she has the job!  Relief.  We are going to make it.  God provided for her mightily!  

Thursday

Too much pain to work all day.  I punched out at noon after finishing two days of work in one half of a day.  Then I slept.  But I dreamed those dreams of discontent.  The ones that leave you wondering if everything is ok when you wake up.  I woke up, cooked dinner and slept some more.  Then went to see my Dad, who also was having nightmares. What is up with all of this? 

Friday.  I took the entire day off work, perused the 3 by 5 shed that I will attempt to fit a 5 by 10 sheds worth of stuff in. Threw out a lot of stuff.  I finally succumbed to the doctors orders and took a pain pill.  Knocked me out.  Sorry Joy.  I am in Lala land.

Saturday

More of the same.  Couldn’t even make it to a memorial, cause I took a pain pill which is no longer working, but I cant walk or drive.  What is UP with this crazy week? 

Sunday, December 11, 2010.

Here I am again.  I know I know, what happened to daily blogs?  Just get over it.  I can hear you all now, breathing a prayer of Thanksgiving.

Ok, so  discipline is not my forte.  Perhaps I should try a little harder, but this week was one of those expletive deleted weeks.  The kind where PBRL comes into play.  No not the Professional Bull Riders League week, but the Pushing Beyond Reasonable Limits week. Honestly, if I type one more exclamation point proclaiming JOY!  PLEASE SHOOT ME.  Yes, I know I am being grumpy, grouchy. Today is one of those days, and I have had a string of them.

But then off to church.  I dragged my own self there, and I sit, listening to the Christmas Carols, occasionally chiming in.  I am miserable this week.  What happened to happy Susie? What happened to finding joy in even the mundane?  WHAT ON EARTH HAPPENED THIS WEEK?

And then it hits me.  I LET my joy be taken away by the mundane things of life. 

It all seemed so normal, it just sneaked in and took it all away.  Or did it?  For what can separate me from my Father in Heavens love?  Can principalities or powers, or rulers in high places?  Can overstuffed sheds, Dad’s nightmares, my pain, or even a blue dog separate me from His love?  No. 

And that is my joy for the week, the month, the year, for my life. However, this coming week, I am going to take a hint from my old fashioned grandmother, and at least put down the high and low temps for the day.  And if I can do that, surely I can find something to rejoice about!  

Copyright © 2010 by Susan Linn-Gomez. All Rights Reserved.

365 days, a journey to find joy in every day!

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Mundane Wednesday.  How do you find joy in the mundane?  My answer; Wait, someone will find something for you to do. Of course, for me they did.

I went to the storage facility we rent from and was presented with the challenge of having to find a different option for my dad’s possessions.  He has years of collected “valuables”, which for the sake of this writing, I will call “his stuff.”

 Not that I think much of it is of value, but it is to him.  I figured perhaps I could find room at my house for “his stuff”.  Which presented me with another challenge of reorganizing my “stuff” to fit his “stuff”.  My stuff is valuable.  Not according to my daughter, who has her own “stuff”, which is valuable to her.  So how do I fit three person’s collections of “stuff” into a two-bedroom apartment?  What really is all this “stuff”?   “His stuff” is an assortment of books that he routinely asks for because he assumes I got rid of his “stuff”, along with assorted and sundry “valuable” things like a box of Pesos, 20,000 emails he printed out, clothes he hasn’t worn in 20 years, my grandmothers enormous treadle sewing machine and a trunk full of my grandparent’s “stuff.”   My stuff is things left over from remnants of life, pictures, my adult “kids” artwork from when they were 3 years old, various and sundry art projects at any stage of development, Christmas “stuff”, old legal papers, candles, books, and other “stuff”.  My daughters stuff is an assortment of shoes, makeup, clothes she never wears, all of which she considers valuable. 

When I look at this list of “stuff”, I realize that I am holding on to at least 6 generations of “stuff.”  It is apparent that none of us can take our “stuff” with us, to that other realm of existence; otherwise, I would not have so much “stuff” to deal with.  Others will be left to deal with our “stuff” and find themselves in a quandary for how to fit all of the “stuff” into 800 square feet of living space along with their own “stuff.”  It is daunting to think that, at this rate, my grandchildren will be holding on to their great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandparents stuff until Jesus returns. 

This is Insanity!  I looked at the “stuff” and some of it is so old it was toted from other lands two centuries ago!  But, if I throw it away, who is to say what the valuable “stuff” is?  And, if I get rid of the really old “stuff”, will I be dishonoring the memory of those who passed on?  Or, will that “stuff” turn out to be more valuable than I think it is?

One of these days I will pass to the other side.  I don’t want to leave a collection of unmarked, unidentified “stuff” that others will not know what to do with.  It would be a shame for my grandfather’s love letters to my grandmother from World War I, to be pitched in the landfill along with other people’s “stuff.”  I would like to leave a legacy for other generations to have so they will know where their roots are from.  After all, we are descended from Scottish nobility, Irish, English, Mexican, Italian and other immigrants, and even some crazy people, like One-Eyed Jack.  If I toss the stuff out, no one will know.  One of my descendants might care about this “stuff.” 

So today, when I got home I made a list of “stuff” that has to be reorganized, catalogued, scanned, stored, and tossed.  I doubt that future generations will care much about my dad’s T-shirts that he hangs on to for dear life, or his unmentionables that he will never wear again.  Then again, they probably won’t care about some of my artwork, or my assorted art supplies, or my collection of angel figurines that I have no place to display.

Today my joy will be in facing yet another challenge.  After all, challenges present us with a reason to keep living.  So, what do I do with all this “stuff?” 

Copyright © 2010 by Susan Linn-Gomez. All Rights Reserved.

365 days, a journey to find joy in every day!

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Yesterday I took a dear friend to the retirement board to file for her retirement.  We have shared a long and sometimes not so illustrious career serving the poor of the State of Arizona.  We often numbered with them, especially when we were raising our children.

Both of us were single parents, both of us working in a Welfare office, where sometimes those receiving benefits had more than we had.  Today we reminisced about those days.  Days when we didn’t know where dinner was going to come from for our children or how on earth we would buy a prom dress for the princess or shoes for our boys.  Somehow, we made it through those tough times, and became not hardened by our circumstance, but strong, like oak trees.  I can truly say that there is no one on earth I know that is stronger than my little Rosebud.

See, Rose has cancer.  She first found out about it in 2001, and since then has gone through two major surgeries, radiation and ongoing chemo treatments.  If you know anything about this type of medical treatment, I don’t have to tell you how sick she has been. And yet she has continued to work, keep her house, spend time with her family, take care of herself.  Sometimes she was so sick she scared me, and yet, she just got up and kept going.  Lately it has gotten even harder, and she still is kickin’ it. 

A few months back I talked about retiring.  Since we both started at the same time, I thought maybe she might want to go with me.  But she held on to the fact that she is afraid to stop working and start doing something else.  Like having a life.  I went ahead with my plans, and she danced around the subject, that is until yesterday.  Today, she is ecstatic and can hardly wait to begin her new life.  She called me a couple of times, and the tone in her voice was relief. 

Today my joy is that anticipation in my friend’s voice.  The knowing that a new life is beginning for her, and that we will be spending a lot more time having fun than working.  Rose, my hat’s off to you.  For all the hard years of work, you deserve a break! 

365 days, a journey to find joy in every day!

Monday, November 29, 2010.

I am convinced that humans were not meant to sit in little cubbies in front of computers and do meaningless work all day.  That is how I relate to Mondays.  Fruitless sitting, typing, and accomplishing nothing.  And I am not even in Martha Mode today.

There are some things that are enjoyable about this.  Like writing, or playing games, or talking to friends, or connecting with those people who you never thought you would ever see again.  I had that pleasure just a few months back, when I reconnected with people from my high school reunion.

I happened to see one on Facebook.  Yes, the dreaded social network that has multiple flaws and, according to my brother, causes many unknown types of computer problems. For me, it was an adventure.  My brother is not so adventurous.  However, because of the connections we made, I made him go with me on a trip to rediscover my old friends.  He had a blast.  Even if he denies it. 

Seeing people that I haven’t seen in 40 years.  That is what I am thinking about today.  Having your perception of them renewed or changed.  Reconnecting in ways I never thought possible when I was just 16. 

My view of myself at that age was probably the biggest deterrent to developing relationships that would have sustained me through the hard times in life.  Yes, I did have preconceived ideas about what people thought of me, and about what they thought in general.  And yet, at a late stage of the game of life, I was able to be introduced to those wonderful people all over again.  Without any of the child like game playing or posturing.

Tonight I had a wonderful time with Di and Karyl, two people from my past, who I barely knew, but am so glad I had the chance to begin to know again.  We shared a laugh or two over a cute little video of “An Italian President”, which is a comedian’s view of how an Italian from Jersey would handle the entire mid-east crisis.  I couldn’t hear them laughing, but I could feel it.  It is amazing, at my age, to have the chance to build friendships that I hope will last for the rest of my journey here on earth. 

Today my joy is in old friendships renewed, not around a fireplace, but around the glow from my monitor.  Who would have thunk it.

Copyright © 2010 by Susan Linn-Gomez. All Rights Reserved.

365 days, a journey to find joy in every day!

Sunday November 28, 2010

Martha, Martha, Martha.  That is all I could think of this morning, as I rushed, rushed, rushed to get everything in order for the things I have to do today.  Somehow, I just can’t seem to kick Martha Mode. 

Every Sunday I take my dad to church, then attempt to get to mine on time.  Most of the time I don’t make it.  I usually end up driving back home and collapsing, squandering my day for just a taste of laziness. 

But today, I decided the Time Bandit would not steal my day.  I got up early, went to do Dad’s laundry, took a shower, took the dog for a walk, fed the pets, put on make up and clothing and sprinted out the door.  I was already a half hour late.  I knew there would be hell to pay when I got to the nursing home to pick up Dad.  He is ALWAYS early.  I think it must be the Marine code or something.  However, when I arrived, he was not cranky or short with me, he was just glad to see me.  I paid that no mind, I still had several tasks ahead of me before I could get on to my own tasks. 

After I dropped him off at church I headed out in far too busy traffic to pick up Bob and take him to church.  I could feel my mind racing through the list of things I had to do today, and that was when it hit me. 

I was grouchy.  Grouchy because I had too little time to do too many things that I had decided I had to do. No one made me make these decisions.  I didn’t notice that anyone had come in and held me at gunpoint and said “Do the laundry.”  No one held me down and forced me to clean out the car.  In fact, no one made me decide to do anything.  No one but myself.  I felt IMPOSED upon by things that I had decided to do.  How can one impose upon oneself?  Somehow I have managed to do that most of my life when I feel rushed or tired.  And the only thing that grouchiness yields, is more grouchiness. 

No wonder Jesus told Martha she was encumbered with much serving!  I feel the same way, and quite often.  I have, most of the time, chosen the lesser part of Martha, when being a Mary was right available.  Mary being the one who enjoyed the Lord, sat at his feet, fellowshipped with him, enjoyed the company of the disciples and her brother. 

For an instant, I felt sorry for Martha. But then I remembered that after that incident, you never hear of it again.  I suppose Martha did what I did today.  Take stock of what is important.  Off to church I went, listened to a wonderful teaching, sang praise songs, spent time with an old friend, and most of all let go of all the “Things I had to do.” 

Today that is my joy, but today may begin a new challenge.  To see how many times I have to repurpose myself back to Mary mode.  Or would that be giving myself more things to do?

Copyright © 2010 by Susan Linn-Gomez. All Rights Reserved.

365 days, a journey to find joy in every day!Sunday November 28, 2010 Martha, Martha, Martha. That is all I could think of this morning, as I rushed, rushed, rushed to get everything in order for the things I have to do today. Somehow, I just can’t seem to kick Martha Mode. Every Sunday I take my dad to church, then attempt to get to mine on time. Most of the time I don’t make it. I usually end up driving back home and collapsing, squandering my day for just a taste of laziness. But today, I decided the Time Bandit would not steal my day. I got up early, went to do Dad’s laundry, took a shower, took the dog for a walk, fed the pets, put on make up and clothing and sprinted out the door. I was already a half hour late. I knew there would be hell to pay when I got to the nursing home to pick up Dad. He is ALWAYS early. I think it must be the Marine code or something. However, when I arrived, he was not cranky or short with me, he was just glad to see me. I paid that no mind, I still had several tasks ahead of me before I could get on to my own tasks. After I dropped him off at church I headed out in far too busy traffic to pick up Bob and take him to church. I could feel my mind racing through the list of things I had to do today, and that was when it hit me. I was grouchy. Grouchy because I had too little time to do too many things that I had decided I had to do. No one made me make these decisions. I didn’t notice that anyone had come in and held me at gunpoint and said “Do the laundry.” No one held me down and forced me to clean out the car. In fact, no one made me decide to do anything. No one but myself. I felt IMPOSED upon by things that I had decided to do. How can one impose upon oneself? Somehow I have managed to do that most of my life when I feel rushed or tired. And the only thing that grouchiness yields, is more grouchiness. No wonder Jesus told Martha she was encumbered with much serving! I feel the same way, and quite often. I have, most of the time, chosen the lesser part of Martha, when being a Mary was right available. Mary being the one who enjoyed the Lord, sat at his feet, fellowshipped with him, enjoyed the company of the disciples and her brother. For an instant, I felt sorry for Martha. But then I remembered that after that incident, you never hear of it again. I suppose Martha did what I did today. Take stock of what is important. Off to church I went, listened to a wonderful teaching, sang praise songs, spent time with an old friend, and most of all let go of all the “Things I had to do.” Today that is my joy, but today may begin a new challenge. To see how many times I have to repurpose myself back to Mary mode. Or would that be giving myself more things to do?

365 days, a journey to find joy in every day!

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Today my family celebrated Thanksgiving Day.  True, there seemed to be more preparation for dinner than there was dinner.  And we had a huge dinner, so you can imagine the amount of preparation.  I started baking pies yesterday, and last night I put the turkey in the oven to roast slowly overnight.  I was up at the crack of dawn, to drive the food over to my son’s home for the dinner.  Then my daughter-in-law, Amy and I cooked MORE food, and set up tables, and seating.  It was a good time for us to bond. 

I was amazed by her kitchen!  More appliances than anyone I know, and they nearly work themselves.  A stove that does everything but the shopping and the serving.  I kept saying, “I want one of these” to every appliance she had.  I was more than impressed with her gadgets.  And then I watched as she set the table.  Tablecloths, neatly spread, napkins and placemats and her best silverware, and for a time, I was taken back to my child hood, and watching Grandmother Linn prepare the Thanksgiving dinner. 

Grandmother Linn was one of those exacting people, who had rigid standards to follow for anything that anyone could imagine.  She was religious about her table and the food she served.  She was passionately obstinate when it came to change in that area or most any area.  Grandad called her stubborn.  She provided the optional moniker of passionately obstinate. It meant that she had a reason for being stubborn and opposed to change, and that everyone should know that she was right about it and stop trying to change things.

But I wish she could see Amy’s kitchen!  I know she would marvel at things that most of us take for granted, like a dishwasher or a stove with a timer, or even a stove that had a built in thermostat.  The most luxurious thing she ever had was a refrigerator, and that was truly just an over-glorified icebox.  She cooked on a coal/wood cook stove that had to be regulated by poking it from time to time and feeding it, as if it was some sort of creature from a horror flick.  How she turned out the most perfect Lemon Meringue pies, and never burned a thing, I have no clue.  But she did, and then once the table was set, she would bow her head and peek out at Grandad and say, “Charles, say grace.” 

At once, when the prayer was done, the chatter would start; we shared stories and swapped lies, which made my grandmother fan herself.  Nothing risqué mind you, but I was told once or twice that liars get struck by lightning, and I needed to mind my tongue. 

We passed food under the table that we didn’t want to eat, like the turnips and radishes, and kicked each other while the adults told their own stories and “Tall Tales.”

Today, once we actually sat down, I watched the entire thing unfold once again.  Grandmother, Grandad and Mama are long past, my brothers are out of state, but here, right before my eyes was a tale that has stood the test of time.  Noah getting yelled at by his dad for kicking the table, when all along it was Stephanie.  Nathan trying to work his way around the green beans.  Josiah firmly taking a stance resistant to anything not akin to desert.  My dad, swapping tales with my high-school friend, Bob.  My sons, daughter, and daughters in law laughing at things that happened on past Thanksgivings. 

The same, and yet different.  I will always miss the ones I loved who have gone on.  But as I watched the family gathering and the same dynamics evolving that were there when I was a child, I knew that there is something solid to my family.  The things that Grandmother and Grandad taught me were the same things that were taught to them. Although I cannot set a table to spite myself, Amy has many of those qualities that Grandmother had, minus the feistiness.  The little brothers still do those childlike things; the older brothers still trade stories.  I just watched. 

As we bowed our heads to pray, I remember so many prayers from before, but today’s is special, because it is for now.  Thanks to God for His graciousness and mercy for us.  Thanks for the provision of family, food and friends.  Joy in our hearts as we shared a meal and memories, and built yet more to come.