Eyes that see the good in things: Nov. 25, 2019

While I think of my grandparents a lot, I miss them most around the holidays. When I think about someone who modeled gratitude and hospitality, I think of my maternal grandmother. Throughout our lives, she made it clear that she was thankful for her family and that we were always welcome in her home. No matter what she was doing, she appeared to love it when family driving through would unexpectedly drop in for a visit, coffee and a treat that she could always pull from the freezer.

For most of her life, she had long hair that she wore up every day. I still remember the first time I saw her take her hair down at night and was amazed that she had such long hair. I loved to lay in her bed and watch her as she brushed her hair at night, and then put it up again the next morning.

She would talk to me as she brushed her hair, smiling at me as our eyes met in the mirror in front of her. Sometimes, I even got to brush her hair for her and as I brushed, she would tell me stories. Or we would sing songs. Grandma was a teacher, and like the best teachers, I learned things without even realizing I was learning.

When I was little, if you would have asked me about my favorite food at Grandma’s house, I would have told you it was Alpha Bits cereal. My cousins talk about her famous eggs, pancakes, waffles, fried potato dumplings and even fried krub breakfasts. I think about my Alpha Bits cereal. We didn’t get Alpha Bits at home. But Grandma always had them, and she didn’t care how long I played with the letters in my bowl, rearranging them to spell out the new words I was learning. She didn’t even care if I ate them, but she would walk by and make suggestions at words that I could make from the letters in my bowl.

Grandma was always cheerful in the morning. She would greet us with the song she used to sing with her class every morning. “Good morning to you, good morning to you. We’re all in our places with bright shiny faces. Good morning to you.”

Grandma was the oldest of 14 kids, kids that she helped raise. Those brothers and sisters adored her and they visited her often. As a young child, you don’t think about the relationships that your grandparents had with anyone else. I saw how important her siblings were to her when I stayed with her for a week. Her brother came to visit from California, bringing fresh oranges and lemons. We enjoyed those oranges all week and Grandma made fresh lemonade to go with sugar cookies, a treat their mother used to make for them.

Grandma’s eyes sparkled as she and her brother teased each other, told stories and reminisced. I saw for the first time that, although we were very important to her, her circle of family extended wider than I knew. I also saw a different side of her brothers and sisters that week as the only kid in a roomful of “old” people. Even the great-aunt I was secretly a little afraid of showed me a fun-loving side that week.

The stories from her school teaching days were fun to hear. Her granddaughters cheered when they heard how she stood up for herself when her teaching contact was supposed to end when she got married. She convinced them that she could continue teaching, although the victory was short-lived when her position ended after she became pregnant. So, when my daughter interviewed her for a school project, I was a little surprised to hear that, although they rode to the hall with their husbands the first year that women were allowed to vote, none of the women in their area voted in that election because they “certainly didn’t want to embarrass their husbands.”

My point in telling you about my grandma, is that she is the best example that I have of someone who lived a life of gratitude. Gratitude is not the same as giving thanks. Gratitude comes from a deeper place that knows that the story could have ended differently. And sometimes it did.

Grandma was no stranger to the hard things in life. She lost a son when he was just nine years old. As the oldest child in her family, she survived the deaths of all her siblings. Several died as children, and one in the war. As they grew older, she watched as accidents and illness claimed the rest.

She was the primary caregiver for her husband after his stroke, until he finally needed more care than she could provide, and he went to a nursing home. Even then, she drove the 25 miles every day to be with him and bring him some of his favorite foods. She watched as the nursing home bills ate at their savings.

Grandma continued operating their small motel and even opened up the six bedrooms in their home to “roomers.” The piles of laundry that she did on a daily basis, especially during the busiest times when the construction companies would sleep in shifts, was unbelievable. Her energy, optimism and hospitality at that time was nothing short of amazing.

She watched as her loved ones dealt with serious health issues. Then she received her own cancer diagnosis, hearing that the lump was malignant and would require a mastectomy. Then, in true Grandma fashion, she went on to inspire medical professionals with her spirit and recovery.

So, when I read this story, I thought of her. The author said that gratitude is surviving the worst and realizing that you are still standing. “Gratitude helps you cheer the news that the lump is not malignant, and helps you to be grateful when you learn, as my friend Diana did, that her husband was not in any pain from his cancer, and could come home from the hospital to die with the cat on his bed, his dogs underneath it and family all around. Any of us who have lived past 50 surely understand the kind of gift that was to her, even if she had no options but to unwrap it.”

If I have any regrets about my grandma, it would be that I didn’t tell her how grateful I was for her mentorship. She taught me so much about how to live and how one person can make a difference. She was such a good example of a woman who lived life well, even through the difficult times. She was an inspiration.

So this Thanksgiving, like every Thanksgiving, I will give thanks for all my blessings, which no doubt are the same things you are grateful for – family, friends, food – but I will do so knowing that the people I love won’t be at the table forever. I will be so grateful for who is still here, and with any luck at all, that will give me the courage to tell them so.

We would love to share local stories about the good things your eyes are seeing.

Stop in to share your stories with us, give us a call at 947-2417 or e-mail us at [email protected]. Or send a letter to Eyes That See the Good in Things, c/o Allison Lindgren, The Transcript 6 8th St N., New Rockford, ND 58356.