A few years ago now, my young granddaughter, Lauren, was visiting me with her family from Washington, We had decided that as her birthday present, we would go out for a special day of shopping and errands. As we were driving and chatting, the subject of my dad, her Great-Grandpa Bob whom she was never able to meet, came up. I found myself telling her about him and began to describe what I saw as the major events of his life. She listened attentively. I told her how the father he adored, died when he was 13 years of age, and that he was sent to California to live with relatives, one of whom was an invalid aunt. I explained how he signed up for the Navy when World War II started, went out to sea, then received a letter from his wife with whom he shared a young son, telling him she was divorcing him. As I was explaining to her that this was before there was text messaging, email, or any way that he could quickly get in contact with to try and alleviate the stressful situation which was unfolding, the impact of it all really hit me. I began to cry in the CVS parking lot. (It’s a little funny when I think about it now.) Lauren just looked over at me. “Grandma, are you all right?”
I explained to her that I the sum total of all these things made me realize that my dad’s life had not been easy. I always thought of him as this strong rock of Gibraltar with a smile, twinkling blue eyes and a positive attitude. When I was a child being raised by him, I just had no idea what he had already faced down in his life. But in spite of everything, he just kept plugging along, and he never gave up. To me, this is the greatest gift from our ancestors: the lesson that they too had trials in their lives, and lived through them. As we look further back thru time and find more ancestors and discover their stories, we find more of the same – laughter, joy and tears. It is our turn now, and we are not alone. They watch over us; their blood runs through our veins, and their strength is our strength. And I can’t help but believe that they are somewhere, watching us and cheering us on and saying, “I know how you feel, I have been there too. But you are made of good stock, and you will make it through just like I did.”
Someday all my grandchildren will be grandparents themselves. Perhaps one day Lauren will be with her grandchild and may recall our day spent together. She’ll remember what I said about my dad, the emotions I felt, and she’ll pass the story of that day on to her grandchild. The lessons will live on.
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