Navigating Terrain

I've been spending at lot of time recently navigating the "emotional terrain of our elders", and trying to help out my elderly aunt.  She's spry, healthy, happy, living independently, still driving, but she is 90.

When my own four children were still in high school, I traveled 1100 miles every six to eight weeks shoring up my parents who were trying to live as independently as possible. 

They had moved "south" to avoid the winters we have in the northeast.  They loved the ocean and white beaches.  Our family had vacationed for years on Hilton Head Island.  So it was a perfect choice for them.  They chose a lot and drew up building plans and their dream retirement house was built.

But they didn't live close to family.  And that became too difficult for all involved.

Now. it's only a six hour drive each way, to assist in some of the areas that need personal attention.

For the last few months I've had lunch and dinner with folks in their 80's and 90's in their assisted care facilities, and senior citizen housing.  I've visited with folks in the nursing home.   And I've rediscovered the importance of having a relationship with our elders.

But they all have reconfirmed for me, the importance of time, relationships, humor, family history, and gratitude.

They all said they couldn't believe they were in their 80's and 90's.  Time had passed too quickly.

Hopefully, I have learned some lessons and figured out some readjustments that I can make in my life.

 Lesson 1:  prioritize time and figure out what is important.  Life is a limited comodity

Lesson 2:  we undervalue the courage of the elderly. " How are you?", I would ask.   "Another day older, but I'm still here!"  he said with a smile on his face.  Ordinary healthy people whom this thing called "old age" has broken through on them, personally, and they can not do the things they routinely did.  A loss of power and status.  They all seemed very courageous to me.

Lesson 3:  if asked....they love to tell stories of their lives growing up.   Of their family, friends and neighbor, experiences.  One lady I ate with, grew up in an apartment right off Central Park in NYC.  Lots of stories I could visualize from her descriptions, being familiar with that area.  Another raised horses and was National Driving Champion.  She took me to her room to show me pictures of her and her horses and her awards.  Bill Moyers has said "Once in East Africa, on the shores of an ancient lake, I sat alone and suddenly it struck me what community is.  It is gathering around a fire and listening to someone tell us a story."

Lesson 4:  older people have a good sense of humor.  I never laughed so much as when I had dinner with those 90 years old folks.  For some reason, they don't seem to take themselves so seriously anymore.  And they have had lots of funny experiences, and don't mind "telling" on themselves.  Also, they all came from a time when conversational skills were highly valued and practiced so the "talk" was interesting, and inclusive.

Lesson 5:  the role of a grandparent is still vitally important.  But it's different now.  We all don't live in the same community as where we grew up.  In our family, our children and grandchildren are hundreds and hundreds of miles away.  They can't walk down the street for a cookie or a hug.  I know someone in the community that has made a commitment to see their granddaughters once a month.  For them it's just a three hour drive, but it's important!  I'm hoping I can make that a reality with our changing life circumstance.

Lesson 6.  our faith heritage is so important.  My great grandfather was an itinerant Methodist minister in Western NY.  I remember stories that my grandmother told me about his riding his horse to his different church communities each Sunday.   I have a box of his correspondence, from the late 1800's.     And the letter from my great grandmother in Norway, encouraging my grandmother and grandfather on their 25th wedding anniversary to keep always keep strong their faith in Jesus, through blessings and adversity.

Lesson 7:  I never put much stock in beauty but I did admire intelligence in people.  Now I'm more impressed with kindness, determination and creativity.

I'm sure there are a lot more lessons to learn as I travel myself down this road called Aging.

Projects

A little fixing of this room,

A big renovation in that room,

A pulling down of a dilapidated outside porch,

And wall to wall carpeting is removed, and drawers in dressers are emptied in anticipation of moving furniture.

And "things" are discovered because said drawers have not been opened in 16 years.

But they are open now and contents revealed.

And treasures found.

An 1995 A Beka Homeschooling catalog.....funny

Fun little pencil and pen tins that they kept on their desks

Reggie Jackson rookie baseball card, which if it wasn't wrinkled would be worth thousands......okay not really but.....

Books, and papers, a microscope, notebooks, and photos and hockey, riding and lacrosse trophies, and a lot of

fond memories of my four blessings and their years at 42 East Main!

Writing

I promised myself I would write everyday.

Like a journal, keeping track of the days, weeks and times of my life. 

Simple as it might be.

But who knows.....maybe this will turn into something to do with family heritage, letters, relationship, businesses, faith or just living.

I have been "cleaning out".  Trying to organize and throw out, if not used.

But I have come across items that have been stored.  Because, previously I was busy with child care or community activities, or church responsibilities, or business endeavors.  I would put things away until I had time to really "look" at the item and decide what to do with it.

I don't know if this is really the time, but I'm going to try to keep an account of what I have and what I've found out about my family and it's history.  I think it is important for my children or perhaps I'm just getting old and do not want to be forgotten.

The written word keeps things forever. 

Maybe my grandchildren will read this with more interest then I had when I was younger.  I could have asked my grandparents so many questions about where they came from, what they did as children, memories about their parents and grandparents. 

But I was too busy with my own little life and subsequently my children's lives to have time, interest or ability to sit and engage with anyone about ancient history.

Now I'm going to write. 

About days. 

And times.

And loves.

Bestemor

I had a grandmother.

Actually, I had two, as does everyone else I guess.

My maternal grandmother lived on in a large house on a small estate in Larchmont.

My paternal grandmother lived in a second floor apartment in Mount Vernon, the whole time I knew her.

They have both moved on to heaven.

I always thought I would be a mother.

And I am, to four absolutely fantastic, handsome, creative, children.

But I stood still once and turned around.......and now I am a grandmother.

I never thought about being a grandmother.  It seems that I'm way too young for the role.  Although most grandmothers I know are younger than I.  Sigh

But a couple of months ago my beautiful granddaughter turned one.

One whole year of her life already experienced in her amazing life.

She is really quite brilliant, as most grandmothers know about their grandchildren.

 She can point to her nose when asked where it is!!!  And if requested to clap her hands, she does so with a big smile.

Her mom puts her hair into the cutest waterfall pony tails.  And dresses her in pink!

And her Papa and I love her to pieces.

Proverbs 17:6  "Children's children are a crown to the aged."

Psalm 103:17  "But from everlasting to everlasting the Lord's love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children's children."

Harper's Secret Garden

Someone once wrote "Heaven Is A Garden".

 I think that's probably true.

And yet we create magnificent gardens right down here on earth.

Formal gardens,

 Cottage gardens, Vegetable gardens, Kitchen gardens, Front yard gardens,

Rooftop gardens, Woodland gardens, Rock gardens, Wildflower gardens

English gardens.

A garden is a vision, a plan, a creation.

Art.

It's a path, leading to somewhere, or nowhere.

Anticipation.

A garden is hard work,

Reward,

Sometimes disappointment.

A garden is color,

Green, or white, yellow, or red, blue, orange or purple.

It's flowers, vegetables, trees, shrubs, boulders, fountains, worms, bees and birds.

But growth and quiet activity.

And this is my little granddaughter's garden.

Underneath the 80 year old maple tree,

 Three hollowed out tree stumps lay,

Filled with pink, and a small chair, and a basket of books.

I think, perhaps, when she Comes From Away,

We will be in the garden together.

Reading.

Mother's Day

It was Mother's Day almost two months ago, and I've been meaning to "find time" to write this blog. To express my gratitude to both my mother and my mother-in-law. They both taught me so many things over the years. Things about being a mom, a mother-in-law, a wife, a daughter, a sister, a neighbor, and a grandmother. About the importance of time, grace, relationships, beauty, hard work, and gratitude. What I learned? We all only get a certain amount of time. Spend it with families! Rob and I lived in the same community as our folks for four years, but then we lived at least 6 hours apart from them. And both mothers were at my house frequently, when my children were born and after. They washed the bathrooms, cooked for the family, read books to the children, taught them Jesus. They were there at birthday's, Thanksgiving's, Christmas's, at the beach, grandparent's day, and dedications. Have family reunions frequently- especially now that everyone lives so far apart and weekly Sunday dinners are not in anyone's future. Go to Norway, if your family is having a world-wide reunion!! Keep the stories going! Ethan, stand out on the camp deck and tell the family stories from your perspective....you're a very good storyteller! Unless we hear our family history, our children and grandchildren will not learn about their family lore. About grace and elegance. My mother had a nature elegance, even when she was hanging clothes on the line. She was from the era of house dresses. And she and my father danced. I never saw her in pants until we were older. After cleaning and cooking during the day I remember her changing into another dress and putting on lipstick for when my dad got home from the bank. Later I remember her in beautiful ball gowns going to bank functions in NYC. She made glamour look easy. I know now it isn't. My mother-in-law, Alma, was tall. She always looked beautiful in whatever she wore, even if it came from a bargain department store! She was always proud of her legs, even though being tall in her generation was not a thing to be envied. About hard work and patience. Both of our mother's worked hard at home and in the community. They both taught Sunday School for 30 years. Developing relationships with 4 and 5 year old's, that lasted a life time. For years I remember Alma's dining room table filled with bags for the girls in the prison near to where they lived. She would shop for items one would appreciate if spending Christmas in prison. For years my mom, with other community women would exercise a young boys limbs who was born with a spastic condition. They didn't see being a stay at home mom as not fulfilling. My mother made a budget, stuck to it, maintained the family checkbook for years, until my father retired. Alma grew magnificent flowers in her garden, bringing a florist worthy vase each week for the front of the pulpit. Alma taught me not to "camp out" in a pity party, her words. But they stuck. And I could see through her life that she never hung out there either! Both women went forward. And they were content. In the joys and tragedies that all families face. They showed me what I heard Daisy Obsborne, missionary to India, say years ago. "Surround yourself with beauty. God does!" It doesn't need to be expensive but beauty enhances life....our homes, places of work, outside and in. They made their homes beautiful with simplicity, design and a few nice inherited pieces of furniture. And they were so grateful for what they had; our visits, vacations, faithful friends, grandchildren, food, homes, our country. I hope I told them these things over the years, while they were still alive. Because they both showed me, with their lives, how to do think thing called womanhood in family, neighborhood, community, and church.

5000

Well, actually it was 5388!

Back all the way to February 7, 2003!

Sigh!!!
I know how to create folders and also delete!......But how could my inbox have gotten away from me like that?

However, it was like a trip back memory lane for me.

The good...no, the great times, and the not so great!  No, the really awful, painful, tragic times too.

There were pictures from reunions, weddings, camp, gardens, Dubai, Jon doing a c-section, 50th high school reunion, my neighborhood birthday group, Korea, Norway, Turkey Bowl, chickens, dogs and cats!

 And a lot of Dominic files!  Apartment renovations, home and camp improvements and Inn creation.

And Dessert Night preparations and Sunday School lessons, and Save Historic Canton meetings!

The lunch and dinner invites and thank you's.  I hadn't realized how much entertaining we really engaged in.  I think we must have had Ann over every night for dinner from all her thank you's.  And I would actually like to remember the recipe I used for a luncheon that Liz Daniel attended.  The turkey wraps I made and tied with a ribbon sounded really good....so if I ever did send the recipe, Liz, send it back because maybe I'll try that again!

And through it all I could sense God's presence and faithfulness.

I did shed quit a few tears last night as I reread all the notes from people around the country that November day.  Darlene and Rick's flight itinerary.  Ethan's organization from his NYC office.  Cancellation of Christmas Family skiing vacation.  My friend, Barb contacting all our Birthday Lunch group and had them over for tea and a time to pray for Liz and our family.  And friends from the community sending words of sorrow for someone they really didn't know, except they loved our family and could imagine our pain.

And my Hope Lodge experience.  We became great friends, the people who had rooms together and shared the kitchen, on the fourth floor.  We lived life together for seven weeks down on 34th Street.    Radiation and chemo experiences, encouragement and love.  And I realized I was the only one who did not die that first year.  I could see I had stayed in better contact with the spouses and plan to try to reconnect.  And here at home, my church family was sending cards and Sarah Tulloch was organizing meals based around a soft diet.

And now we have met people from all over the world at the B&B.  Who would have guessed that a family from Bangledesh would visit for a week, or a family from Holland, France, England, Mexico and Spain would come to little Canton.  And a production company, a governor, a mayor, an assistant vice admiral of the navy and a NHL hockey player!  Quite a diverse group and all fun!

And best of all, the addition to our small family of spouses and our beloved number #1 granddaughter, Harper Pearl.  Her smiling little face on our email screen brightens even the gloomist north country day!

So now there are 2757 left to delete or file.....hmmmm.  I think I'll leave that to another day!

view from a backyard garden: Cleaning Out Closets

view from a backyard garden: Cleaning Out Closets

view from a backyard garden: Cleaning Out Closets

view from a backyard garden: Cleaning Out Closets

Cleaning Out Closets

The thing about cleaning out one's closet only occasionally is that you find stuff you've forgotten about!

Cool stuff-like jewelry from your mother and mother-in-law that you stuffed in the closet thinking you would get it out your for granddaughter to play dress up with, long before you even had a granddaughter!

But now suddenly, the jewelry seems to be cool again and maybe you should wear it yourself!  Big beads are back and costume jewelry is "in"!

And you find your high school ring and put it on.  But you never wear rings because you have hands are like your Dad's.  Big! And rings don't look good on your hands.  But your childhood piano teacher thought your hands were great.....you could stretch over an octave!!  Sigh

You discover some silver jewelry designed and made by your youngest sister when she was in high school.  A bit rustic, but now she has her own business.   Designing and creating her own line of custom silver jewelry.  And you have found a few of her original pieces!

In the middle of a tangled mess of fine gold chains, you discover your daughters locket with her initial engraved on the oval and you put it in a box and send it to Atlanta.

Then you come across a basket and realize that in the middle of your child bearing years, you were very crafty.  You crocheted afghans, knitted, did needlepoint and cross stitched and sewed quilts and costumes.

You discover that you have at least a MILLION buttons, and you consolidate them in one huge glass jar and keep the white ones in their separate container.  Now what kind of craft could you do that would be both creative and useful?  Or will they sit on the shelf another 10 years?

And just because you were raised during the depression....(which you were not, but kids believe you when you say that because some people don't know that the depression was over in 1948), you still have towels that your mom saved!  "You can always use an old towel to wipe down the car that you wash every Saturday!"  A Saturday morning routine that we have never engaged in but, oh well!!!  Can I throw old thin towels out and not be wasteful?  Maybe I can move them to a different location to be more accessible when we do get to wash our vehicles! 

Do I dare confess about the stacks of sheets that live in the hall closet.  And 6  different size bedspreads!   Rejects from the Inn but just perfectly fine for the family.  But wait!!!  Why do you have a fitted king sheet?  You've never had a king size bed in all the 45 years of marriage.  Sigh

So now that everything is out and visualized and accounted for and sitting in a spare room, you have to figure out how to get it all back.  Plus the assorted medical supplies and the vacuum!

Strange as it may seem-it's a small closet.

Not Only "Good Night"

The Nordbergs love books!  Young and old.

But my favorite memory of a child's book was Good Night Moon.

Every night, sitting in the big rocker with three kids piled on his lap, Rob would read our copy of Goodnight Moon.  Ethan would be in his crib, but eventually the trio would be rotated so the oldest would be lying on their bed.

"In the great green room...."  We used to have it memorized, and probably could resurrect it with a little prompting!

It's frayed now and loosing it's binding.  I notice that our hard cover edition is slightly smaller than the current edition and the page at the end is ripped, but it has remained on the bedroom bookshelf for almost 40 years now.

We noticed in the NYTimes Weekend Arts section that a previous unpublished book by Margaret Wise Brown is soon to be released.

 "Good Day, Good Night" is being brought out in October.  It's not meant to be a sequel.

 I was surprised to find out that "Goodnight Moon" did not sell well during Brown's lifetime.  It was written in 1944 and published in 1947.  But,currently there have been 32 million copies sold in various different formats.

Margaret died suddenly at the age of 42.   But she had published 60 books in her lifetime.

I'm excited to see this next book about embracing the daytime too.  But there seemed to be a little cautionary caveat,

"Good Day, Good Night" has a lovely and simple story that is bound to appeal to small children, even if it doesn't match the seamless rhythm and honey-smooth story progression of "Goodnight Moon".  Maybe nothing can."

February Gardening

We spoke of gardens today at lunch.

And February gardening in the North Country means CATALOGS!! 

So I came home ready to dig into the 28-30 seed and plants catalogs that had begun to arrive earlier in the month.

My winter borders are really lovely, covered with snow and sometimes ice. Creating sculptures and skeletons and tremendous shadows in the sunlight.  The little crabapples have clung to their branches and the juniper bushes get clipped regularly for indoor winter arrangements.  Knowledge from the past assures me that the 20 varieties of hostas, and the showy peonies, are just waiting for the disappearance of snow and the softening of the soil.

But the vegetable garden sits empty. Waiting for the fresh compost that's been cooking all winter, and the edge of the rototiller, on holiday in the barn.

There are new varieties of heirloom tomatoes that I'm going to try, And the organic beans and peppers and cucumbers I ordered each year are available.  How many different varieties of eggplant will my family tolerate, and how many raised beds can I dedicate to the Viking Reds, Yukon Golds and Swedish Peanut Fingerlings? Where am I'm going to plant the Kale and do I really want to grow carrots again?

In the middle of February I'm encouraged that I'm receiving more catalogs with options to order heirloom varieties and certified organic seeds. A change from just the biggest of everything is the best.

So "visions of sugarplums" don't dance in my head,  but packages of seeds, and bulbs, the smell of freshly tilled soil, the sprouting rows of garlic and onions, that were planted last fall,  and trowels and spades, float through my daydreams this midwinter day.

The Lost Art of Letter Writing

I'm cleaning out closets and drawers.

Jump start on spring cleaning, I guess.  And I came across two letters from my Grandmother dated 1963.

The first was dated June 13, 1963; Dear Ruth, Ev and the girls.

The second dated July 10, 1963; My dear family!

She and her sister, Doris had set sail from NYC across the Atlantic to their homeland of Norway.

I remember "seeing them off" with my parents, visiting their berth, saying goodbye, wishing them bon voyage, and waving frantically from the pier,  not being able to identify those two among all the people lined up by the ship rail as it slowly slipped from view.\

The first was a newsy note about arriving in Norway, "Well, here I am, once again back in Norway- everything seems so strange for me-So different from home, but it seems good to see it again"  She briefly tells about calm seas, no one sick, and not missing a meal, with the current thought about "gaining 5 pounds"!!  She tells about the big celebrations with their families in different parts of the country and hiking up mountains still covered with snow and ice and descending to valleys all "green and covered with flowers- some contrast", and visiting a village all bombed out during the war but rebuilt.  And then she ended with hopes that everyone was well and assumptions that my sisters and I were looking forward to summer vacation.

My mother must have written her back because the second letter was the appreciation of receiving a letter from the States and knowing some of what was going on with all of us back home.  There was more information about her visits with their brothers, parties, concerns that my mom must have had about small pox shots (which they received aboard ship), and the tired feeling one gets with this "life of traveling" but not to worry, they were getting "used to it"!

The letters were not long but she managed to give a newsy, interesting report of her trip back "home".  And an awareness of her family in the States, and their activities.  She made me remember that my Dad was still going to college for advanced degrees in 1963,  I was a freshman in high school, he was doing graduated work at Brown.  I admire his focus and dedication.  And he was interested in purchasing a baby grand...he did "gigs" in high school and after his WWII service, to supplement his income.   My grandmother was interested in "helping"with the purchase of the piano.  One that is still in the family, occasionally played at the Inn.

Communicating through long hand on stationary seems to be a lost art these days.  Phone calls, tweets, and text messages are great....but they're gone and they're short.  Please Nordberg children don't stop calling!  I love hearing your voice and catching up on your lives now that we live so far from each other.

But the sweetness of seeing my grandmothers handwriting, the yellowed stationary, and the memories  which were, at the time,  just rehearsals of everyday life, were revisited  fifty four years later in a small rural upstate community, far from Norway or Mount Kisco, New York.

I'm sticking them back in the dresser drawer for my grand daughter to find twenty years from now.

But first I have to tell her the "stories of her great great grandmother from Norway" and then write letters of my own.