Life Changes and Mother's Day Traditions

Another Mother's Day has come and gone, and changes in life circumstances can dramatically affect how you view the day. 

I hope the day was a happy one for you, but the reality is, as years go by, there are Mother's Day's in the mix that are not quite all that you hoped that they would be.  There may be the loss of a mother, circumstances surrounding one of your children, difficult memories from childhood...any negative happening in life can change how you approach the day.

I am blessed to still have my dear Mom, in fact I did a tribute to her this year, 7 Things I Learned to Love from Mom, and printed it out and gave it to her with my gift this year. She is such an example to me of how to view the difficult challenges of life, and live with the right focus, one day at a time.  Her life has been both blessed and difficult, and she would probably say that the blessings mean all the more because of the difficulties.  She views Mother's Day and any other day through this positive perspective.

This year was different for us.  In past years I often had everyone here for Mother's Day.  Now due to various things, my brother's, sister and I spend time with Mom separately...I like it as the focus can be 100% on her...not to mention she gets spoiled over an extended period of time.  She has a little difficulty hearing, and being in a large room with many people, or in a restaurant around a large table, makes it easy for her to be in the background as everyone talks with one another...so we enjoyed lunch and a visit together during last week.

On Mother's Day my dear children joined my husband and I at church, and then we had a bite to eat out, then we came back to my home to spend time together.  It was a beautiful day...and I'm a thankful Mom.

Updated 11/28/18

To Grandmothers House We Go

It is funny that when I started to sing the song "Over the River and Through the Wood" I sang "..to Grandmothers house we go", but when searching for the full version of the poem, found that it is actually "to grandFATHER's house we go". Have I really been singing it wrong for all these years?

Whatever the case may be, it is that time of year again, Thanksgiving, when many gather to enjoy delicious meals, some find their way to soup kitchens to feed those who are less fortunate, some work in restaurants and toll booths so others can travel and eat out with their families, and families gather to, hopefully, enjoy one another.

This year may be challenging for more people than previous years for various reasons, the economy, job loss, loss of loved ones, family strife, any number of things can affect how we approach this time when hearts should be thankful...I know, I experience some of these mixed feelings and emotions myself.

But as hard as things may seem to be, when I take hold of my thoughts and direct them toward God and positive things, there is always something to be thankful for. The list may include things a big as the fact that my husband is a faithful man and still with me after over 30 years (update..until 8/6/17 when he went home to Heaven), to as simple as the fact that the sun is shining today and a beautiful bird just came to feed at the bird feeder.

Some Grandmothers will find themselves working this year that have never had to work before...perhaps even on or the day after Thanksgiving...this can either be something to be upset about or thankful for. It is up to us how we view the circumstances in our life.

I'm not being naive, I know many are hurting, some are very close to me, but also know that if each of us dig deep enough, we can find something to be thankful for.  Do some digging, and journal what you find, or share it with someone.

Updated 11/27/18

The Hands of a Grandmother

Four Generations of Hands

A year or two I received an email with the following heart-warming story.  As I read it, I immediately thought of my own grandmother's hands.  I remember sitting next to her in church as a child when we would visit to vacation at her home in New England each year, looking at those hands as they held mine.  I look at my own hands now, and sometimes they remind me of hers. Read this simple but beautiful story, and do enjoy!

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Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn't move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands. When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if she was OK. Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. 'Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking,' she said in a clear strong voice.

'I didn't mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK,' I explained to her.

'Have you ever looked at your hands,' she asked. 'I mean really looked at your hands?'

I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making.

Grandma smiled and related this story:

'Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life. They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor.

They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child, my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war.

'They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse.

'They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.

They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.

'These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life. But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ.'

I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my grandma's hands and led her home.

When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and husband I think of grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God.

I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.

Updated 11/27/18

What Is a Grandmother?

Being a grandmother means many things to me. But all rolled up into one meaning is having these marvelous little people in my life to teach, mold, and love.

And, best of all, to be loved in return.

To be blessed with a knowing of who they come from and what their belief system is and will be through-out their life. To have the honor of taking part in the shaping of little minds that will develop into strong and focused minds. Minds that will will go forth with ideas and what our family's have stood for through generations.

To keep the family traditions alive and meaningful.

What a marvelous place to find myself!

Guest Post by Bea Kunz
Happy Grandmother of 3 boys

http://www.sagehillfarmsandvintagestore.com

Updated 11/27/18

Grandmother Memories - My Mother's Mom

I have many memories of my Maternal Grandmother. As a child, we spent every summer vacation at my Grandparent's home in the suburbs of Boston, a beautiful, wooded spot on a hill. We played among the trees, picked blueberries, climbed rocks...the outdoors was our playground. No computers or video games to keep us inside, just a little TV in the afternoon or evening.


I loved both of my Grandparent's dearly. My Grandmother was a Working Grandmother, but not in the same way as you may be thinking. She worked hard keeping the house, keeping meals on the table, keeping the cloths clean and raising her children. When I was 12 years old, my dear Grandmother had a stroke that left her unable to do many of these things. My grandfather took wonderful care of her, and she lived many years, passing at the age of 90.


So if you are blessed with enough income from life circumstances or a marriage partner, don't ever feel that you aren't working at home, it's a lot of work raising children, preparing meals, planning shopping lists and menus, cleaning the house...I'm sure I don't need to write more.


Being a "Working Grandmother" means many things.

Updated 11/27/18

Grandmother Memories - My Father's Mom

My memories of my own grandmothers are distant, but far from absent.

My grandmother Richardson on my father's side...I guess I should say "paternal grandmother"... was part of my life in my younger years. I didn't have her as long as my maternal grandmother.

My Dad's mom did do some work from home. Dad's father, who I never knew, was a photographer. He took beautiful pictures, and my grandmother tinted the pictures to give them color. If you have ever looked at antique photographs, you'll know what I'm talking about. In portraits, a bit of color is added to the skin, the cheeks are made rosy, and other color may be added to enhance the photo at the artists discretion. Of course the reason for this was that in the early days of photography, there were no color photos. There was a real art to this.

I don't have any memories of playing with my paternal grandmother, as she passed when I was fairly young, my memories of her are the late years of her life when she was bedridden.

But she was a working grandmother, working from home so very long ago.

Updated 11/27/18