A week ago today, on a below freezing Minnesota winter morning, my family buried my grandma. Now that three out of my four grandparents have passed, I have been taking time to reflect on the lessons they gifted me with. A few years ago, I started to think about how important it was to preserve my family's history in a small way, by creating photo books thru Shutterfly. If you are blessed to have your grandparents in your life, I strongly encourage you to take the time and work to invest in such a project. On my mothers side, things were very comfortable, as their home felt like a second home to me growing up. All I did was go over to my grandparents house with a notebook one day, and ask questions: "Tell me about how you met, Tell me about when you were a child", etc. I loved making my grandma rummage through all her old photos, and dig up old stories for me. On my fathers side, things were slightly different, but just as important. My grandmother had already lost much of herself to dementia, and my grandpa was diagnosed with cancer and was given a very short life expectancy. (Things like that will light a candle under you to get the work done!) I remember staying up until 4am a few nights to wrap that book up. My grandpa had Facebook, and though we had never been especially close growing up, messaging stories back and forth with him helped build a new bridge of connection that had never been there. The stories you may hear will stick with you, and hopefully have an impact on you as a person. Here are just a few of the "stories" that have stuck with me that I would love to share with you, and hopefully inspire you to start writing down the stories of your grandparents, or even your parents.
This was my maternal grandmothers first home she shared with my grandpa (and their first child!). It (obviously) did not have indoor plumbing. For an anniversary, my grandpa gifted her with a pot to use to go to the bathroom inside. She always talked about that gift and how thankful she was not to have to run out into the cold North Dakota winter in the middle of the night to go to the outhouse. This little humble abode was lived in for a short time. However, thinking of that gift my grandma received, and the house she tended to for a short time with a child, I recognize the abundance of what I have.
My paternal grandmother grew up in a logging community up North. Money was scarce and things were hard, (think wind blowing in from outside through the the gaps of the 2 room shack walls) hard. My grandma was just around age 1 when her little brother was born prematurely. He was so tiny that they kept him warm by placing him in a shoebox on the open door of the oven. They say he had to have weighed only 1 or 2 pounds. I mean, can you even imagine giving birth early in a tiny two room shack? As time went on, it was evident he had some delays from being born early, primarily the fact that his hip sockets hadn't developed which left him paralyzed. My grandma and her siblings would pull, (Larry) around in a wagon. I know he is one of the older boys in the wagon picture above. Later in life, they moved for a short time to the cities. My great grandpa (not having a vehicle) put Larry over his shoulders and carried him miles (MILES) to the Children's Hospital to see if they could help him. There he was told the best option would be to put him in a "children's home" . Not wanting to separate his children, my grandpa put him back over his shoulders and made the trek back home.
My grandpa (Orie) loved cool cars. Those are pictures of all the cars he and my grandmother owned over time. On one of their first dates, Orie was bringing Nancy (my grandma) home in his new 1955 Chevy. It was night time and the road was a little wet. Nancy yelled, "A DEER!" Orie was going about 80 mph and hit the brakes. The brakes locked up and with the wet pavement, the car skidded sideways. Orie turned the steering wheel into the skid which caused the car to roll and go end over end. Orie remembers looking straight down at the steering wheel at one point. When the car finally came to rest on the hill side of a ditch, all was silent except for the radio. When they both realized the other was okay, Orie began trying to kick out the side window. When he wasn't having much luck, Nancy in all her wisdom responded with, "Why don't you just try the door handle?" Sure enough, the door opened right up. When Orie stepped out of the car, he didn't realize that the back window had popped out and was right beside his door laying on the wet grass. He accidentally stepped on it and went surfing in the dark down the rest of the hill. Eventually a passerby stopped and took them back to Nancy's home. It was a night to remember.
So many more stories my family has to treasure. Stories that are sad, stories that will humble you, and stories that are just plain great that you can tuck away in your heart and use it to blame your temper (or whatever shortcomings you face in life) on. Such as that of my great grandma throwing pots at my great grandpa out of anger of their situation in life (I mean...can't we all just relate to that feeling?). I love the one about my dad's family being the first family on the block to have a color TV. My dad then shooting out that first color TV while watching "The Rifleman". My grandma and her sister taking the state basketball tournament by storm, my grandpa first seeing my grandma at the barn dance.....
When the people you love are gone, the stories leave with them. But they don't have to! I will never forget my grandpa saying to me, "I never thought anyone would ever really care to hear any of this....." The great thing is, Shutterfly stores these books. It has been years since I made one of them, and I can go online and order hardcover copies at any time for people in the family, so all the siblings can then have copies of the pictures. The books also read like a "story" so that my children, and their children can know their great grandparents someday. So friends, be the person who takes the time to scan those cool old pictures and write down the stories.
