a grandparent's legacy

(This post didn't come easily, but it's actually been in my heart for many years.
I hope it hurts no one who reads it.)

I came across this photo recently. It's the only photo I have of my paternal grandfather and me together.
I'm about six years old and Granddaddy is about 75.

I didn't have a real relationship with him.

Granted, we moved far away when I was just seven,
but I hold many memories of other people in my life at that age.

This is what I wish my grandfather had chosen to do:

Be happy to see me. Though he might have been happy when I visited,
I never sensed it.

Be demonstrative. I never remember hugs nor sitting on Granddaddy's lap.

Share stories of his childhood.

Find out what interested me and talk with me about it.

Ask questions, tell me a joke.

Tell stories about life on the farm when my dad was a boy.

I doubt that my grandfather, a hard-working Arkansas farmer who
in the prime of life fought through the Great Depression,
gave a moment's thought to the legacy he was leaving
his children and grandchildren.
Maybe the terrible reality of survival sapped his capacity to love.
At least that's how it seems to me.

I don't mean to disparage the memory of my grandfather,
but he died over 40 years ago and I don't know who he was.
That saddens me. And if he had an unspeakably horrible childhood,
that saddens me, too.

I know this sounds judgmental,
but sometimes I wonder why some people have children at all,
if not to love and know those children, forge relationships, teach compassion,
and pass on the baton of faith.
Parenting means sacrifice and a commitment to mold little hearts to
love, respect and serve others.
I think the same can be said for grandparenting.

These memories have helped me decide what sort of grandmother I want to be.

I will hug the daylights out of my grandchildren, if they're ok with it.

I won't demand affection from them, but I hope to foster it.

I will be more tender and patient with my grandchildren than I was with my children.

We'll get lost in books, especially the ones their dad or mom liked.

I will pull a chair to the kitchen counter and let them bake cookies with me.

I will tell them a joke and laugh at myself, never at them.

I will spend time outside in the sun and snow, or walk with them in the rain.

In summer I'll sit with them on the sidewalk and draw with chalk. We'll stay at the pool as long as they want.

I will listen to their fears, hold them close and pray with them.

We'll go to the park and swing, slide and climb together.

I'll tell them about my pranks at Girl Scout camp and of my childhood with no computers, cell phones, or DVDs, how we'd wait a whole year to watch "The Wizard of Oz" on TV.

I will talk with them about God and point to everything around us that speaks of His creation and love for us. 

I will take a moment every time we're

together to look

deeply into their eyes.

I will spoil them rotten. Ok, I know I'm not

allowed!

I will remember they are children and delight in them.

My grandchildren will know my smile,
my touch,

my laugh, my tears,

and especially my heart.

Without a doubt they'll know that

I love them fiercely and forever.

I won't waste time silently sitting on a chair

as my grandchildren walk through the room.

beautiful light

Light. Beautiful light. A photographer's best friend. I discovered some lovely light just a few steps outside my back door today after the storm that blew through last night and this morning.

There are things nobody would see

if I didn't photograph them.

- Diane Arbus, 1972

another courthouse

My friend Dove commented yesterday that there are other beautiful courthouses in Ohio, including the one right here in Delaware. So I pulled up a couple of photos I shot last spring. Indeed, it's a beauty and is still a fully functioning courthouse after 153 years. And this is only the back view!

Do you have a favorite courthouse?

a courthouse

Throughout the midwest you'll find courthouses,

most dating to the late 1800's.

I'm always surprised at the grandeur 

of these buildings.  

Even in the smallest, most rural county seats

such as Hartford City, Indiana,

it seems an attempt was made to make the courthouse

the town's crown jewel.
On Saturday we passed through Hartford City on our way home
from celebrating Katie's birthday.
The courthouse was stunning to me,
illuminated and rising into the cold Indiana dusk.

So many little jewels in our great country.
I love discovering them.

Blackford County, Indiana:
established 1838 
2010 population: 12,766
Courthouse completed: 1895
entered on National Historic Register, 1980
(Wikipedia)

Indiana cows

In case you think we - or someone else - posed these cows, no. They're the real deal.  During Saturday's birthday trip to Muncie, Indiana, Katie and I yelled, "stop!" Bill backed up so we could photograph this trio of cows.

Two are rump-to-rump, perfectly lined up. The third is straddling the two. What on earth could they have in mind? Is it family bonding? Pre-mating? Post-mating? A stance predicting impending weather?

Any cow experts out there, I'd like to know!

Who says the country is boring?

(And last year, also in Indiana, we saw a goat getting a boost from a goat buddy: front hooves on the other goat's rump in order to nibble from a tree. Indiana animals are an odd lot!)

happy 21st birthday, Katie!

Who would think we could so thoroughly enjoy a Saturday

spent in a tiny, rural town tucked between Indiana cornfields?

In the middle of winter?

It happened yesterday and is perhaps a combination of a daughter

becoming a young woman before our eyes,

and us settling in to our new role as parents of young adults.

It was a day not out of the ordinary, yet indescribably special.

I brought cupcakes ...

... for Katie to share, with hungry friends like a roommate.

Dad and  daughter cooked up some plans

for Scrabble games via their phones.

We talked over a leisurely lunch at Panera and stopped by a mall.

We've had some rough patches, Katie and me.

That's why this time in our relationship is so sweet.

We talk more as friends than mother and daughter.

I prayed this time would come, and thankfully it's arriving.

Today our daughter Katie turns 21.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Katie!

happy birthday, Pat

I'm only a year late finding this photo ... the year was 1975 on Martha's Vineyard. My brother Pat and I ferried out to visit a friend of mine. While she worked her restaurant job, Pat and I explored the island a bit. How I love islands. I could live on one, selling seashells or tending a lighthouse.

It was the first - and only - time I hitchhiked. I felt very daring and disobedient, remembering our dad's warning about the dangers of hitchhiking. I felt safe with my big brother. If I got kidnapped, so would he.

A mom with two kids picked us up; safe but boring. That was summer life on the Vineyard.

Thanks for keeping me alive in '75, bro. Happy birthday, with love.