My Friends,
For three weeks I’m on hiatus from posting my blog’s regular content. All for good reasons, though. I have decided to share a few random thoughts to fill in the gap.
My role has changed in the past few months. Now I am transient between two houses, my own and that of my folks. It’s hard to keep up with life when you aren’t rooted in one place. One of my current deals is sorting through things at my folks’ home. This activity is like a memorable journey back in time.
Most interesting to me are the photos and historical records: letters, marriage, birth, and baptism announcements. Wedding photos of my great grandparents, grand parents, and parents. We view pictures of the Brumbaugh homestead in Pennsylvania, now a historical site, my mother playing the violin as a child, my father as a boy standing in front of a haystack on the Southern California dairy farm, my siblings and I at the cabin at Big Bear lake and a variety of photos of relatives when they were young.
What the memories, books, writings, and all kinds of artifacts–including handmade doilies, laces, and tatting–give to me is a strong sense of family and our place in the world. I have a rich heritage on both parents’ sides. The past through my ancestors efforts is rich with practical teachings, the brethren tradition, spiritual direction, music, writing and good, honest, hard work. One ancestor, my father’s maternal grandparent, Grandpa Barkdoll, preached a sermon on his 100th birthday and lived to be 101. A newspaper clipping was saved of about him as a centenarian talking about his life in the local news.
Tears come on occasion. The path has its tender spots, as I remember those whom have gone on before us, leaving a hole in their wake. Tragedies that have occurred and impacted the family. I read them all and relive their emotion. I see a photo of my mother’s sister, who died from cancer and left six sons motherless, the youngest just five years old. She was beautiful, talented, and loved pretty things. My sister and I remember the girly-girl gifts she gave to us girls at Christmas. It seemed too sad back then, and still does.
But love is strong and weaves its vibrant thread in and out and round about. I have learned I can smile at life and have it smile back at me. There is beauty in every generation, in the sweet times of family, in the quiet moments of being alone with past family history. Life is to be lived generously and faithfully. I’m so thankful for their brave, strong, and Christian examples.
For this I am grateful.
It’s the celebration season for people of faith. As a people of life and belief, we can appreciate the past for in it we know our hope and our future. We can look back at the scenes our minds recall and bring the memories close. We remember our spiritual birth and growth–when we understood, embraced, wept, rejoiced, and transformed. There were the hard times and good times, sorrows and joys , and lots of living in-between.
For this I give praise.
I hope life is treating you well.
