What is The World's Story About? Thoughts about My Grandma's Life and Passing

                                                                Barbara Jane Millar
                                                     
                                                              ("Grandma Millar")

         "A child may ask. "What is the world's story about?" And a grown man or woman may wonder, "What way will the world go? How does it end, and while we're at it, what's the story about?"
          "I believe that there is one story in the world, and only one, that has frightened and inspired us so that we live in a Pearl White serial of continuing thought and wonder. Humans are caught- in their lives, in their thoughts, in their hungers and ambitions, in their avarice and cruelty, and in their kindness and generosity too- in a net of good and evil.I think this is the only story we have and that it occurs on all levels of feeling and intelligence. Virtue and vice were warp and woof of our first consciousness, and they will be the fabric of our last, and this despite any changes we may impose on field and river and mountain, on economy and manners. There is no other story. A man, after he has brushed off the dust and chips of his life, will have only the hard, clean questions : Was it good or was it evil? Have I done well-or ill?"

                                        John Steinbeck- East of Eden

               No one can really say it better than Steinbeck. I guess when someone dies, I always find myself thinking about life and those hard, clean questions. What is the point? Why are we here? Are we making a difference? Is it for good?
              My Grandma wasn't just someone who died, she was my Grandma. I didn't know everything about her, but her hard questions, I think can be answered easily, though they really aren't for me to answer. I remember her mostly as a storyteller. She loved to sit around and talk about people, usually people I didn't know, but they were her people. I think she loved people more than I ever knew. I also think she touched more lives than I will ever know. She had her master's in education... I guess you could say little people were her specialty.
             But to me, the best thing that she gave this world, was my mom. And because of that. I know my Grandma must have been brilliant. My mom is anything, but ordinary, and some of that must have come from my Grandma.  She is kind and ambitious. She does the impossible ten times over. She is humble and generous, a tower of strength and a refuge whenever I need her.  She is the queen of resourcefulness (never buy anything, she tells me, I might have it already, or if not, I can probably make it)! My mom can make anything... out of nothing! I've always thought she could have chosen any profession and succeeded, but she chose the most humble, and in many ways the most important- just like her mom- a teacher! Where would we be without teachers? However, my mom isn't a regular teacher, and I have to assume that my Grandma wasn't either. The impact left of students will never leave, and in that way, somewhere out in the world my Grandma is still with us through the changes she left on the lives of others.
           My Grandma was many things, some of which I am still learning and hearing new stories! I think she would have liked getting to know her grand kids more. We got to see her on a "good" day a few weeks before she passed. She was in the hospital for a UTI, and I just had this feeling that we needed to stop by with some flowers. The boys helped me pick some out (cheerful purple gerbera daisies) and we were able to deliver them to her room. She was awake and in a happy mood when we came in. She didn't know who we were, but was still glad for the company. I sat with her and helped her eat her lunch. She told me funny stories that must have been about her own kids. I think she was remembering or thinking it was back then, instead of the present time.  She was talking about behavior issues and how important it is to keep those kids in line! She made me laugh several times during that visit, and she shared a smile with me too. I got to tell her that I loved her, and I will never forget that day.
          What is the world's story about? I think it is about moments like that one with my Grandma. That last light in her eyes, a smile of innocence and genuineness, and good, moments filled with so much good and love.
           I am going to end my thoughts about Grandma, with the following quote. We forget the simplicity of life and it's purpose sometimes, and I think this is fitting:

          "Child, though I am meant to teach you much,
           what is it, in the end,
            except that together we are
           meant to be children
           of the same Father,
           and I must unlearn
           all the adult structure
           and the cumbering years
           and you must teach me
           to look at the earth and the heaven
           with your fresh wonder."
                                          -Jane Tyson Clement

I wish I had the right words to say about her. I wish I could be more of a comfort to my mom, who I know is missing her so much. All I know, is that now she finally has peace and rest. You are loved, Grandma.

Real, True, Ugly, Love

(The boys coloring Valentines together)!

We are all thinking about love this month as the red hearts of Valentines day bombard us everywhere we go. But what is real love? This holiday makes it confusing for some, frustrating for others, and well some of us just "go with it." When I think about love, it is a growing part of me. I can look back and see different stages, they repeat themselves, because I now see some of those same stages in my kids. Here are a few things I have learned about love...

Misconception:

Love is Pretty. Especially around Valentines Day, love is perceived as this beautiful, easy thing. There are flowers everywhere, people overspend just to make an impression, and there is the illusion of living in a Hollywood love affair.

So... Love is not pretty. It took me a while to realize this. It isn't just the day you get flowers. Real love is there for the ugliest parts of life. The day when you can wipe your Love's bottom because they can't do it anymore, and still kiss them everyday.... well that's what I call ugly Real True Love.

Maybe that's not something you've thought about, or even something you want. Maybe you like the illusion. Ten years ago, that was enough for me. But now I'm so thankful that I've found true love, ugly love, and it's sticking with me forever. I hope that when things get ugly and hard that I will be able to do whatever I need to for the love of my life.

Truth:

Love is simple. Just like every great gift in life, I believe love at it's best is pure simplicity. It's easy to see when you look through the eyes of a child. My boys amaze me sometimes when they look at me that way. Often I feel undeserving. Their love is innocence. It is pure. They don't usually have a reason for telling me that they love me, they just do. See: simple. When you love someone there shouldn't be strings attached, conditions to be carried out, love is simply love.

Love is still an amazing concept to me. Even though it's simple, it's depth is fascinating. Why we love, how we love, who we love, and why we are loved are all stirring around in my head. God gives us amazing abilities and capacities to use this gift of loving others even when we are ugly or ugly to each other. And after we've confused ourselves with the meaning of love, God reminds us that he made it simple, love one another deeply from the heart.

My First Love

Ten years ago I met a boy in a church. I didn't know then that we'd fall in love. I didn't even really know what real love was yet. I was guarded, but curious; he was like no one I had ever met. I was fifteen.
That summer after we met seemed to crawl by. My friends and I talked about him constantly, anticipating the next time we'd all see him (so they could help me figure out if he was into me or not). He was.
He lived in a different town, but we wrote letters... yes real letters, the kind you have to lick with your tongue and put in a metal box with a red flag. They're my favorite; there's just something about holding someone's letter in your hands, the same piece of paper that was recently in theirs. There's something romantic about it. The whole thing made me feel a little like we lived in a different time- you know watching the mail every day, hoping he had sent something. And when he did, I would read them over and over, memorizing every word, making a crease in the paper from folding it up, putting it in my pocket, and then taking it out again to do it all over.
He didn't write things like other boys had written to me. He was sweet, honest, and goofy in his own endearing way. We started a game in our letters that was sort of silly, but fun. We simply called it "the question game." I would ask something like, "If you were a dessert, what would you be and why?" Then I would have to answer my own question and wait for his response. It was a great way to get to know each other.

The months passed on. We saw each other very little. But that only made me think about him more. Sometimes we'd talk on the phone, but my dad didn't like the extra three hour long distance charges on the phone bill. I got a job so I could pay for them.
Almost a year after we had met, we became "an official couple." I like to say we were courting, I guess that's my old-fashioned nature coming out. We kept our long distance status for the next two years. We even went to separate colleges. But at last I realized I could live without him no longer, so I followed him across the country (for the first time in my life I found myself without a plan). I only knew that I loved him and that the long distance thing was horrible!
One month later, he proposed. I said yes!
We got married the next June. Saturday will be our sixth wedding anniversary!

I love you, my darling... you are my first love and forever, and we are incredibly blessed! I thank God every day that we found each other!!! Happy Anniversary!!!http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=1868353027124&set=a.1569336791905.76651.1190019556&type=1

The Blessing

My house is quiet and nearly clean, if you can ignore my counter clutter and little piles here and there. I do anyways. The laundry is done (of course it's not folded or put away- yuck- who wants to do that) and the dishwasher light says "clean." In my book that is beyond success for the day.

Sometimes I wonder why time exists, some say it's God's way of keeping everything from happening to us at once. However, there are moments when everything does happen at once and time has nothing to do with it. I think that's why I can enjoy these moments so much, these moments of nothingness. I can let out a satisfying "ahhhhhhh" because now, this quiet, this simplicity, is the exact opposite of my life just an hour ago. It is God's yin and yang. You can't enjoy your blessings if you are never more than a foot away from them.

Yes, children are a blessing from God. We all know that, everyone tells you that even before you have kids, and especially when you are pregnant. Oh yes, then, little old ladies at the grocery store rub your belly and tell you all about the blessing. God Himself includes that special phrase in the Book. And in our hearts we feel it the day they are born, and every day after that, I imagine until the day we die.

But sometimes, our blessings can feel heavy, overwhelming even, and we just need that extra time away from them to realize how special they are. You know what I'm talking about. Sometimes it's just a few moments to yourself, being in your world again where people speak in your language(... nobody says anything about poo). Maybe a little coffee break or visit with a girlfriend. These are the things we need in our life to keep us sane, to keep the balance, and to rejuvenate.

Then there's date night... a whole evening sometimes even an overnight stay where you get to fully engross yourself into the you, you used to be. (note: if this hasn't happened to you for a few months... it's time... you need to admit to yourself that you really are going crazy - a night wearing girly stuff- high heels- dangly earings.. will rock your world!) This is more of a warning than a note- GET OUT OF THE HOUSE...OTHER PEOPLE WILL WATCH YOUR KIDS! I'll even watch your kids, and I might not even know you. Believe me, it's good for everyone's health.

So, we experienced an entire weekend kid-free last weekend. And I have to tell you, something amazing and magical happens when you are away from them that long. First of all you remember that they aren't the only thing that defines you, but second of all, you really your love for them multiplies, something you thought impossible. How could you love them more?

Friday I was rushing around trying to get ready. I needed to pack there stuff, my stuff, shower and look decent,so I used the trick card and put in a movie. How else could I get it all done? Of course Owen lost interest in the first ten minutes and came wondering in to see what mommy was doing. "You changing your clothes, mommy?" "Yep" "Did you get pee pee in those pants?" "no," I said laughing. "oh, poo?" I laughed harder, and scooted him out of the room. Of course his main frame of reference would be one of those two things for needed to change clothes.

When we dropped them off at my parents house, they were ready to see us go. "See ya water," Owen said opening the door to let us out. "bye, bye!!!" They were ready for some Papa and Grandma time! We left easily, I'm not one to hover, but by the next morning, I couldn't help wonder about them. They're my babies after all.

The car was so .... what was it... something felt... oh yeah, quiet. There were no screams, squeals, or giggles. No food, toys, or punches being thrown. (okay my kids don't really throw punches, but they do try to grab whatever body part they can reach on each other in the car). It was different, it was the "ahhhh." But then came the "awwww... I miss 'em."

When Sunday came I was more than ready to see them. When we saw other kids and babies at the church we went to, I was wishing they were there. I knew they'd be disruptive, and bouncy, just like usual, but they're my disruptive bouncy kids, and I love them.

I almost always use the back door at my parents house, the front door seems to formal. This time as we climbed the porch steps I could feel my anticipation rise. I saw Owen first, through the glass door, sitting on the couch. He was wearing Papa's WSU hat, one of his favorite things to do. In that instant my heart was in two places at once. It scooped him up before my arms could reach him and wrapped him in the love that is continually and forever his. I shot across the room to claim my boys. They are wonderful. My love has multiplied. They are my blessings.

Being away from them did rejuvenate me, not because they are so difficult, but sometimes we need to be away from the things we love so we don't take them for granted. I had an overwhelming feeling that is hard to describe when I held them both in my arms again. I was so happy that they were mine, like... oh yeah, I get to do this great thing every day with these great kids... I get to be A MOM!

The Power of Words

I'm a person who loves meaningful words, you know, quotes... catchy phrases... words that ring true and apply to my life directly in some way. Finding these words in unexpected places makes my day: on license plates (things like LVNLIFE) on window displays, especially now (spread the joy), and today on my coffee sleeve (Stories are gifts. Share yours). That is so true; some of the stories I have been told have been the best gifts. Which goes to show that words are powerful and how you express them is important. And Bonus: they are FREE!
I wish that I had the means to travel the world and share meaningful words with everyone, not just the silly little things that someone can print on a coffee sleeve, even though for me those little things help, but what if positivity and hope could be spread to everyone? What if the whole world smiled at the same time? I think we'd be able to feel it. Mmmm how wonderful that would be... impossible, but wonderful. Maybe heaven will be like that, like one huge heart warming smile, bursting with light and joy and love.
It helps to think about positive things, and to remember that this isn't the end. My story is only just beginning. I need to do better. Better at what? Well, I have a long list, but every time I see simple meaningful words I'm convicted just a tad. They prick my heart and I have to say, oh yeah... life is good...I do have hope... I do have joy... I am blessed... I am chosen... I am loved. If it stopped there it wouldn't mean much, but like I said i am trying to do better. those reminders tell me to encourage others in the same way. there are so many people in my life that need to hear me say those things: I love you, you bring me joy, you strengthen my hope, you are special, you make my life better, your story has changed me.
Sometimes things go unsaid. We overestimate how good we are at communicating. Or maybe it just sounds too cheesy to say those kinds of things out loud. But what if they never get said?
I really believe words can change the world. Because after all, if you have to choose between your belly and your soul getting fed, the latter will always be more important.
Tell someone today what they really mean to you, and take every opportunity to encourage.

"The right word spoken at the right time is as beautiful as gold apples in a silver bowl." Proverbs 25:11 (New Century Version)

A Simple Gift

I'm sitting in my mom's living room watching the snow gently fall, giving the great maple tree a layer of white dust. It's the kind of scene you see in pictures and Christmas cards. In the fore-ground there is the great snowy tree, and in the back-ground snow-covered rooftops, street lamps,and parked cars just waiting. Everything is still. No one wants to move, to be out in this cold beauty. I love everything about it. The way the snow falls like magic from the heavens, the way it makes me feel like snuggling up with a blanket... in all it's simplicity it reminds me of my creator. I am in awe. I have no words to describe the way I feel when I see a mountain covered in fresh snow with the sun glistening amongst the tree-tops. It's overwhelming, powerful, majestic to live where we live to see what we see.
My parents' house is surrounded by trees; my dad often calls it a tree house. And it feels that way from the inside because out every window there are leaves and branches..well now most of the leaves have fallen, only a few are hanging on for dear life. The green of summer has been replaced by winter's white. Both bring comfort in different ways, but for many the white represents peace and a season of coziness.
This house has always brought me comfort no matter the season. My family moved into it when I was nine, and I envision my parents growing old here. It will always be the place I come back to. Even when no one is here, I can feel their presence. I look around and see a hundred memories. I feel my mother's love in all the little things she has left there... things she's placed on the walls, put out on the coffee table. I know, I'm a little overly sentimental, but I try to see that as a strength. I also know that not everyone has a place like this where years of memories will always be preserved, or even a place where loved ones gather just to be.
I had an experience last week that just broke my heart. I saw the reality of the times we are living in at a food bank. The room was packed, you couldn't move. Everyone is in need, and it's not getting any better. I don't know how or when things will change, but I do know every little bit helps, and we are all in this together. Give what you have, and don't be afraid to accept help from others either. Our communities need love now more than ever... isn't that all anyone is looking for? You, me... we all want to be accepted for who we are right now. We want to be loved despite our short comings and defects whether we have anything to give or we are broken and at the end of our road. People are people.
Now as I see the snow silently falling out my parent's front window I am more grateful than I have ever been. I have a place, I am loved. I am filled again so that maybe I can go out and share this gift with others. I don't have money, but I have eyes, and ears, and a heart: to see, hear, and love someone. What do you have to give?

Corny Valentines

Martin and I are the kind of couple that other couples call corny. We've danced at restaurants where there isn't dancing. We give each other hand-made presents. And yes, more than once a year someone is served breakfast in bed.
I was thinking about Valentines Day today... how could I avoid it? We've never been able to do anything "big" for any holiday really, especially not one that doesn't require traveling to see family or a day off from work. About a month ago, I decided that this year we were going to do something. I didn't know exactly what, and I knew yet again not much money could be put towards it, so I told Martin, "We can each spend ten dollars on each other. Do whatever you want, but you can't spend more than that." It may seem silly, setting aside ten dollars, and you may be wondering, what can you do with ten dollars? Well I'm not about to tell you that I did some surprising wonderful, magical thing with my ten dollars because that's not really the point. It could have been one dollar, I just wanted to be allowed the freedom to do something.

Love is often expressed without monetary means at all. Our first Valentines Day as a couple, we weren't even able to spend together. We had been dating for eight months. I was a senior in high school and he was away at college. I sent him a poem that I had rolled up and stuffed into a abstract looking bottle. But of course I couldn't leave it plain, (here comes the frosting of corniness) I had to decoupage pictures and love quotes all over the outside of the bottle and tie ribbons around the mouth of the bottle near the cork. It was a work of art, and symbol of my love for him!
So as I thought about what I wanted to do with my ten dollars, about a thousand things came to mind... many of them however, required a babysitter (a major difference between Valentines passed and now). I thought of taking a long stroll downtown with two hot cups of coffee and pumpkin scones. I thought of buying some fabric paint and making him a t-shirt that would read: "Thief" on the front and "you stole my heart" on the back... I know... corny. But he wouldn't care, he would have worn it proudly and he probably would have even made people read it, telling them that his wife had made it for him.
That's just us. We're not the couple who does extravagant things in order to impress each other, or out-do one another. We know our love is real. Valentines Day is really just another day. I like to think of it as an excuse or a reminder to show each other our love. It's a big blinking red heart saying, "be grateful for the love in your life, and don't forget to share some in return!"
Yes, I did finally decide what to do for him. It's nothing big or flashy, and you know exactly how much I spent on it. It's corny... and he's going to love it!