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My grandparents were so cool. As a child, I knew they were the parents of my parents, but I couldn’t connect those dots. They were older people who made me feel special, and introduced me to different perspectives.
This poem resonates with me, so I wanted to share it with you.
My Grandparents’ Generation
They are taking so many things with them:
their sewing machines and fine china,
their ability to fold a newspaper
with one hand and swat a fly.
They are taking their rotary telephones,
and fat televisions, and knitting needles,
their cast iron frying pans, and Tupperware.
They are packing away the picnics
and perambulators, the wagons
and church socials. They are wrapped in
lipstick and big band music, dressed
in recipes. Buried with them: bathtubs
with feet, front porches, dogs without leashes.
These are the people who raised me
and now I am left behind in
a world without paper letters,
a place where the phone
has grown as eager as a weed.
I am going to miss their attics,
their ordinary coffee, their chicken
fried in lard. I would give anything
to be ten again, up late with them
in that cottage by the river, buying
Marvin Gardens and passing go,
collecting two hundred dollars.
For example, take Clifton Truman Daniel, President Harry S. Truman’s grandson. He visited Hiroshima and Nagasaki, not to apologize for his grandfather’s atomic bombing of Hiroshima in 1945, but to be an ambassador, of sorts, of reconciliation and healing.
Understandably, anger remains in Japan, and some Americans believe that Truman may have had other options. However, there are American service members who believe lives were spared as a result of the bombing, and point out that twelve Americans were killed in the bombing as well.
During Daniel’s visit, he was presented with a small plastic bag containing tree seeds which had fallen from trees which had surviving the bombing, to be planted around the Truman Library in Independence, Missouri. A three-term former mayor of Hiroshima subsequently visited the Truman Library.
Daniel plans on writing a book detailing the bombings, his grandfather’s rationale for them, and how survivors moved forward.
If discord exists in your family due to a historical event in which a senior family member – living or deceased – played a part, you have an opportunity to research the backstory leading up to the event, which may have impacted ultimate decisions. Presenting it from an objective point of view has the potential of healing generations, and allowing the future to move forward.
It seems that retailers, in a rush to sell, sell, sell for Christmas, bury Thanksgiving Day under Christmas musak starting early November, and layering with the top soil of Black Friday.
Although President George Washington issued a proclamation in 1789 citing November 26th as an official holiday of “sincere and humble thanks,” it was President Abraham Lincoln who proclaimed Thanksgiving Day a national holiday in 1863 – in the midst of the Civil War. It is, therefore, appropriate that Spielberg’s film, “Lincoln,” be released this week. (You can view President Lincoln’s actual proclamation on-line courtesy of The National Archives: http://www.archives.gov/press/press-releases/2009/nr09-25.html)
My childhood Thanksgivings were spent at my grandparents’ place, where I enjoyed two traditions. First, was watching my grandmother smack my dad’s hand when he tried to sneak a couple of olives before dinner was served. Second, was watching my grandfather lob dinner rolls across the table, instead of passing the basket around, just to annoy my grandmother.
And, of course, there arrived that grand day when I was “promoted” from the child’s table.
With the sunrise, an unspoken, respectful tone permeated their home, historically created with love, and memories. Thanksgiving was imbued with a deep, rich, ambiance.
It was a similar tone that Lincoln wanted to provide; a respite from the bitterness and anger amongst citizens, and families, during a tumultuous time in this country’s history. This day has been set aside to reflect on our gifts; whether you spend the day with friends, families, or solitarily; dine on turkey, ham, or vegan.
The world is a living, breathing, cornucopia of accessibly interesting places, people, and stories.
For that, I am truly grateful.