Little Gems in Our Pockets

I just returned home from my Grandpa Norman's brother Oliver's family service.  Stories were told of a man like they simply don't make anymore.  A man who had the patience to say, "That's okay, it was a good way to learn wasn't it?"  A man who went to church every Sunday.  A man who believed in family and loved his wife through everything.  A man who believed in hard work.  While continuing to have passion for the things which brought joy, like playing pool or horseshoes or woodworking. 

 

As I sat there tonight, on a metal folding chair next to my mom's cousin, if I closed my eyes it was if all of the stories were also about my grandpa.  Because they could have been; the brothers were stitched from the same quilt.  Right down to their shuffle walk and gleaming eyes.  Right down to their strong stay the course of living right attitude. 

 

As I sit here now, on my wooden chair from my grandpa's belongings, I am pondering.  Wondering if I am living in a manner to carry on the ways in which the generation of Norman and Oliver started me.  Thinking about the examples I held witness to while growing up.  Becoming even more affirmed in my attitude of wanting to simplify and live fully.  Will one day, on a chilly December evening, people sit in metal folding chairs and say I had passion for what I loved right down to my very last day?  Will one day people sit in metal folding chairs and say I believed in the unbelievable?  Say I gave and accepted and loved?  Say I possessed patience?  Say I stood for what I knew was to be right?  I know one thing for certain, the only one with the answers to those questions is me.  It's my choice every day to be the person I am meant to be.     

 

On the phone with my mom a few minutes ago I had this same conversation and after hanging up with her, I feel as if we have this gift, these little gems in our pockets.  The gems of the generation of our starters.  The gems which we get to reach into and feel there whenever we need a quiet reminder to live.  To really live.  To take the hard and grow stronger because of it.  To love our family and neighbors.  To do what we do well, the first time.  To offer forgiveness without questions.  To be the Norman and Oliver's of the world. 

 

What I wouldn't give to see that shuffle walk and gleaming eyes right now and to hear, "How's Grandpa's little girl?" 

 

I pulled up my picture folder named Grandma and Grandpa to see them instead.  There's beauty in every picture we take.  Every moment captured. 

 

Every hand on Grandma's leg making sure she's alright.  Not with fanfare but with the steady style of always being there.