Olden Days of Yore
Today would be my Grandpa Jack’s 93rd birthday.
I don’t have any grandparents left. Grandma Ruth, Jack’s wife, died almost five years ago at the age of 90. She had been a widow since 1991, after 56 years of marriage. Steve and I married on my grandparents’ 46th anniversary.
Now that my grandparents are gone, I long to know more about them. Some of my happiest childhood memories are of times I spent visiting them every summer in their little southern Idaho town: playing in pup tents in their big back yard, eating Grandma’s strawberry pie and bologna and onion sandwiches, going to the Cherry Festival parade where Grandpa had made a float. There is a tree in the park there with a plaque commemorating my grandfather who was once the head of the Chamber of Commerce and a popular gentlemen with his infectious grin and his willingness to help with projects and repairs. His name fit…he was a “Jack of all trades.”
I have a set of china which used to be my grandma’s when she was a girl. I also have her cedar chest at the end of my bed; in it are her braids in a plastic bag and scrapbooks she made for my father when he was a little boy. These are reminders of a time when life was different but not so long ago, fully lived by those I dearly love. During their last days my grandparents must have looked back on their busy lives and marveled at how quickly they passed.
I’m starting to glimpse the “fading flower” of life as each year seems shorter than the last. Having a toddler and a 20-year-old son (as well as the stair-steps in-between) makes me feel like I don’t fit well into any generation…or maybe I’m better able to relate to several generations, when I’m not feeling too dizzy from the roller coaster ride that is my life. Yesterday my littlest guy wore a sweatshirt that once belonged to my oldest guy. I’m learning that it’s not possible to hold onto any particular moment. Each day is so busy, that I have to often remind myself not to let the busyness crowd out the joy of that day. Memories are precious and should be hoarded.
As time compresses, eternity looms larger. My patience for small inconveniences increases when I think about time rushing past, mussing my tidy lifestyle with the force of its passing. I’m leaning into the whirlwind of God’s winnowing through my life, breathlessly watching him perfect His purposes in the big and small and insignificant details of my days.
My 10-year-old daughter just got a typewritten letter from an “old” friend…a dear 82-year-old woman from our church, the widow of the pastor who planted our church and many others. She just had another great-grandchild, as well as another birthday. She wrote to tell my daughter of her life as a girl. Her memories of that time are fresh to her, though it might seem so long ago to us. Here is a bit of what she wrote…as you read, think about how quickly your life is passing and resolve to number your days, so that you may gain a heart of wisdom, and ask God to establish the work of your hands (Psalm 90).
Primarily, we were NEVER BORED. We never had to ask, “What can we do now? We lived on a non-busy street with several children in the various homes, so there was never a lack of playmates. besides having the usual activities such as “Tag,” “Hide-and-Seek,” etc., we got old car tires and had fun racing them. With plenty of sturdy oak trees, we made tree “houses”…flimsy, but fun to climb up to. We even tried to have communication with the old “tin can telephone” from tree to tree. Of course, these never did work, but we had fun trying.
One of the boys returned fromt he 4-H Camp describing the tetherball they had enjoyed there. So we cut down a slim pine sapling, found an old tennis ball and put it in older sock, found some worn ping pong paddles, and thus began our first Neighborhood Tetherball. There was always a line of the ones wanting to play, in spite of the fact that there were bruises on hands from times the ball was missed. Also, the balls lasted longer than the socks.
We also enjoyed riding bikes to the sidewalks where we could practice with our roller skates. Summertime swimming was also the most desired activity, but we had to resort to the various card games in the colder weather. We also helped the ones who had the oak trees by helping rake their leaves in the fall. They would “reward” us with a bonfire and roasted marshmallows.
You might like to learn of some of the lack of the “household conveniences” of the 20’s and 30’s. We did have the electricity, but had to cook and heat with wood or coal. It was even a longer chore to heat enough water to take a bath. Refrigerators were late in coming, so we had to fill the old ice boxes with the ice from the ice house (delivered to houses about every 2 days). Vacuum cleaners were also late in being developed but we were glad to have the running water, also the telephones and the radios. Paved roads were rare, but muddy road often meant “stuck-in-the-mud” cars.
Of course, we had the regular chores to do: milking the cows, feeding the chickens, washing the dishes, starting and tending the fires, preparing our own lunches for school. We had so many of the different games at school and really enjoyed having so many choices and so many friends to enjoy these with us. (Wish you could have been there with us!)
