Sixty Years

 Some of my earliest memories, certainly most of my best memories, took place on a farm in the middle of the Kansas prairie near a little town called Burdick. My grandparents inherited and added on to a homestead that is about as far away from anywhere as you can get inside of the US (apart from Alaska). In fact, once you leave the front door of their house you are unlikely to see much of anything other than rocks, trees (and other plants), creeks, animals, or fence posts and it stays that way for a solid 10 miles before you would come across another road or house. This was a great place to make memories at, not just because a kid could spend all day digging, picking berries, jumping in the creek, and building all sorts of underwater constructions in the shallows, catching crawdads and so much else, but mainly I value the memories made because of the fact that I felt so safe there.

Today, my grandparents celebrated 60 years of marriage together. It was a big day with LOTS of people who came to celebrate with and congratulate them! Of all the things I observed and conversations that I participated in my favorite thing by far was watching my grandfather's face light up over and over and over again as he greeted or conversed with a family member or friend that he hadn't seen in a while. A combination of the beautiful day, an invigorating worship service held in the morning at their house with friends and family (which I was not there to witness but got to hear about later), steroids to help with pain and energy, all bearing witness to God's grace and handed down for us to benefit from and offer back our praise, ensured that my grandparents had plenty of light and joy to spread as the social went on for several hours and would typically have been "too much." God's grace was so evident to me in this, and also in other ways throughout the weekend. As always when large groups of people gather together, the potential for all kinds of opportunities increases exponentially, so it was neat to witness that. I had several conversations in particular that I can't imagine happening in any other setting and that I treasure dearly. 

Sundays are always big days for our family and with four 45 minute trips to and from church and my grandparent's farm, today was no different. To my dismay, Christopher did not nap on any of those four opportunities, but because of that I was able to rock him to sleep around 4pm and we shared a precious contact nap together, a sweet bonding moment that I am so grateful for. 

All of the happenings over the past 3 days have caused me to stop and reflect over and again on all that I have to be grateful for in my childhood. Wonderful, caring aunts and uncles; lots of siblings to love, fight, bond with and ultimately become friends with all; memories that come back in floods whenever my tires reach that far eastern track of Diamond Creek rd; and countless other things. Childhood leaves and indelible mark on each human who has ever walked this earth. You can focus on the good without ignoring the bad, in fact I think that healing the traumatic or "bad" parts of childhood can only happen by locating and becoming grateful for the good. It would not be true to say that I was always safe from trauma or even violence (thankfully from someone   outside of my family) in my childhood, but I was always safe with my grandparents, and when I travel back to their house, my body remembers that. 

These reflections seem to tie in with a quote that has been following me around for about a week; the quote is from one of my favorite books that I have often returned to since childhood. Everything about this quote is so good and so beautiful, even when considered outside of the context of the story that it was written in:

“From the house of my childhood I have brought nothing but precious memories, for there are no memories more precious than those of early childhood in one’s first home. And that is almost always so if there is any love and harmony in the family at all. Indeed, precious memories may remain even of a bad home, if only the heart knows how to find what is precious.”

-Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov


Happy 60 years to my lovely and sweet grandparents and much love from your granddaughter.

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