In a couple of weeks I will face the anniversary date of my mother’s passing. Six months before her passing I had buried my father. Both were lost to me in 2020, both non-covid related.
These anniversaries have led me to somber reflections. I remembered how all human vestiges of their ever being present on this earth was given away or donated. My children took mementos of their PawPaw & MawMaw because they gave them a connection and comforted them. These mementos may be passed to their children who remember PawPaw & MawMaw, but as time goes on the cufflinks, the angel figurines, newspaper articles, certificates, will, most likely, lose meaning, lose value, and will disappear. It is sobering to think that the sum of our lives on this earth is so easily disposed of. Passed on to strangers, handed down to family. Donated to Goodwill…swept from sight. Gone. No footprint on life.
But my parents did leave a footprint on my heart and the hearts of my children. My love Christmas is largely because of them. What a delight and comfort it is to this very day when I indulge in my memories of Christmases past. Mid-December we put up our artificial silver tree in the living room of our house on 1428 Neptune Street in Mexico, Missouri. We decorated it with red balls and then perfectly positioned a “color-wheel” next to it. Next, we’d bundle up, walk to the street and admired how it looked through our picture window. We finished the evening out with drinking eggnog and singing carols along with Bing Crosby.
Another tradition I loved was visiting the town square to admire the store windows. Santa Clauses rang bells on every street corner. Dad and I tried to decide which fellow was the real Santa. These moments formed me into a Christmas traditions lover, and they have also formed the same love in some of my children, which in turn has formed in some of my grandchildren. No doubt, this love of tradition will also be passed down throughout the generations, thanks to them.
They delighted in family gatherings. Especially if there was good music to sing along with and to dance. both told stories of their childhoods giving way to full-on guffaws. We barbequed in the summer, ate watermelon under black walnut trees, and enjoyed peanuts in RC cola while riding down dusty back-country roads of Vilonia Arkansas.
Mom never knew a stranger. She was a nurse, but even outside the hospital she was first in line to come to someone’s aid. Her humor was infectious and sprinkled all over everyone, bringing smiles to everyone who were blessed to meet her. I learned a lot from her example.
Moments. Simple things. Things of life. Treasures.
Not to say all moments were good. They were both human and suffered crushing failures.
Still, they soldiered on. Even as life grew more disappointing, they focused on celebrating family and sweet life-experiences.
This should be our focus: Laughter, love, exploring nature, music, appreciating beauty, reaching out to each other, indulging in conversation both light and deeply intimate. These are gifts that will live in the memories of those we love. They will be our footprints on their hearts and will be shared with those they love in the future.
These are the treasures we must seek and hide in our hearts.
RIP Charles and Freddie Diehl. I love you, miss you, and treasure our moments together.
