Friendship, Memories

Wound Openers (Reprise)

An innocent acquaintance opened an old wound with her simple question (see here). I understood my unexpected reaction, but what if I hadn’t?

One morning during a conversation among friends and acquaintances, one woman made a statement about World War II. Another disagreed. That seemed the end of it until one came to me and expressed her anger. Frequently, she encountered the woman who had disagreed with her. Each time, ugly, intense feelings overcame her. She wanted to forgive the woman—for what I thought was a benign statement.

I gave some shallow advice, but my husband immediately identified the problem. The words had opened a wound that needed healing.

I knew that the father of our European friend was a businessman in territory captured by the Japanese during World War II. I knew our friend was interned by the Japanese and spent her teen years in conditions slightly better than a prisoner of war camp. I didn’t know that although she immigrated to the U.S. as an adult and told stories of God’s grace and care during those difficult years, our friend still had wounds that bled easily. Thankfully, she agreed to counseling.

Any insight into identifying old wounds?

Family, Friendship, Memories

A Day to Read Letters

I love letters and so does my family. While a preschooler, my middle son stuffed my mail into his top dresser drawer. After being caught with bills, he explained he wanted his own mail. He got it—all the advertisements.

Like that son, I found childhood mail thrilling. Great-Aunt Frances sent a me letter full of jokes in which she had inserted the names of family members. My grandmother sent me updates about the cardinal who ate out of her hand. She sent her great-grandsons cards with a dollar or two stuffed inside.

What thrills me as an adult is the family history those letters contain—minutiae dear to my heart.

Those details are stuffed in five cardboard boxes and one plastic shoebox. It has been years since I read them systematically.

While September 1 is World Letter Writing Day, there is no corresponding day for reading letters. The closest is National Reading Day on March 2nd. I read every day so perhaps March 2nd should be my Letter Reading Day. As my husband says about many family events, “You couldn’t put this in a book.” I am glad we put them in letters.

Any letters deserving another perusal?

Christmas, Memories

The Best Ornaments

When I place our Christmas ornaments on our window seat—where they lie until boxed—or when I box them if another removed the ornament from the tree, I will remember their stories. It doesn’t matter that I reminisced a few weeks earlier.

Why? Because I love the people they represent: the staff at our favorite library; a kind boss; my middle son’s favorite nursey teacher; a family we knew briefly in Texas; the wife of the pastor who officiated at our wedding; family members who have gone ahead of us; and many more thoughtful givers. Some of these people would be long forgotten or rarely remembered if not for their gifts.

Approximately 50 years ago, my grandmother gave me this first ornament, made from wool.

Although the ornaments I purchased bring happy memories of family times or adventures on my own as a young single, along the way, I learned the value of giving and receiving Christmas ornaments. I now give them as wedding or baby or graduation presents—when available or If I plan ahead.

Have you told the stories behind your ornaments? I should.

Christmas, Memories

Ornament Memories

Never worry about the size of your Christmas tree. In the eyes of children, they are all 30 feet tall.

Larry Wilde, Comedian

One effect of aging I didn’t expect was becoming more selective about Christmas decorations.

Decades ago, when our tree was placed under a cathedral ceiling and could be decorated by reaching over the banister, I was easily seduced by the Christmas aisle. Off season, I scoured the Christmas sections of tourist shops and clearance aisles. Ornaments abounded.

Such purchases slowed when our tree height was reduced by a couple of feet. Today they are rare.

My beach ornament

Now, a tree half the size of former trees stands beside our front window. I never thought I would surrender, but my husband and I can’t handle transporting or decorating or undecorating a large tree.

Beginnings and endings are most memorable. (See here.) With tree decorating, that means placing ornaments and removing them. During that time, I always reflect on the friends and events my ornaments represent.

Memories bestow value. (See here.) And it’s those memories of friends and events which now make the time-consuming placement and removal and storage of my ornaments worthwhile.

Collecting or remembering?

Books, Memories, Parenting

Reading to Readers

When my boys were beginning readers, a mom with children in college expressed a regret.

I wish I had continued reading aloud to my children, even when they were in high school.

Marilyn Rockett, Author of Homeschooling at the Speed of Life

I loved reading to my boys, so it was easy to take Marilyn’s regret to heart that day. During the middle school and high school years, we read together although audio books sometimes were a read-aloud substitute.

I read aloud for the love of sharing my favorite books with my favorite people. I didn’t fully realize we were receiving a heritage of common memories.

This past year, my youngest son called with details of a scene and asked if I remembered the book from fifteen years ago. Of course, I did. How could I forget the memoir Belles on Their Toes by Gilbreth and Carey? I was not surprised that I remembered the last book I read aloud to the entire family, but I was surprised that he did.

It turns out my sons remember even more about our books—not only their plots but where we were at the time they listened.

Any favorite read-aloud memories?