Unintelligible Ramblings

When you look for joy, you’re lucky when you find it. It may or may not be there. You can overlook it as easily as find it. And when you’re unlucky, then life is wearing you down and you’re in a state. A tragedy. Just like unfound joy.

I’m lucky.

Follow me while I look for joy. Oh, Brooks. There you are. Oh, Wally. Here you are. There’s Ben and Emily; Garrett and Liv. Murphy. Laney. Milo. Zoom out. Large family. Comfort at home. Success of my children. Love in their homes. Wonderful in-laws. Setbacks overcome. Plans progressing. Daily enjoyments continually increasing. Joy.

I’m lucky.

Things come to mind in many ways. Predictably, my thoughts went back to years ago when I decorated for Christmas today. My decorating for Christmas largely stops after I put out Grandma’s ceramics. They are mine. But the ones that go back the furthest were Grandma’s. M&M Grandma’s to be specific. Grace Viola Wonn Mast. I was in my twenties, and for a while I had admired Grandma’s ceramic church. I thought it to be very quaint, colorful, intricate and stylish. I thought this for a while, and then I told her my appreciation for it. Her ceramic church always had a prominent place in her home. And, so I know that it was special to her. But what was even more special to her, apparently, was giving it to me, which she did shortly after I told her how much I liked it. There were many marks of great character in Grandma, and I remember this as one of them. I think it worthy of emulating. But, as I have discussed with others often, no one quite measures up to Grandma. And, so I’m never going to leave the impression with anyone else that she left with me on giving me her church.

Years later, Grandma made a cute little santa that stands just under two feet and I have with me now by the same route that I have the church. At the time that I got the santa, Grandma’s hand was less steady for painting, and she needed help with her kiln. So, only the face has any color. Later, she bought me Christmas gifts of Lennox figurines that I also put out for the holiday. These are the snowman family, the snowman santa, and the nativity set of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I have never allowed anyone by myself to put these out or to put them back away. And so doing each year, those memories come back to me to be relived.

When I was much younger, my two Grandmas were equal parts of my life. We—us kids—were going to one Grandma’s or the others, as the occasions warranted, or they were coming to us. Grandma Mast was wonderful. I don’t need to inform anyone of that who was around in her day. But, so was Grandma Thompson. However, Grandma Mast was around later for me and my children as a family. And Grandma Thompson was not. She lost her independence, and then her life. Grandma Thompson missed not only the relationship with Ben and Emily that she would have had had she lived weller and longer, but also missed the experiences she and I would have had in my family building years. That is a big disservice to us all. Because Grandma Thompson had the same great spirit that Grandma Mast had. Not that they were the same. They both loved, doted, created fun and laughed. But, where Grandma Mast nurtured, Grandma Thompson spoiled. There are countless examples of Grandma Thompson spoiling. I’ll just mention her dinners for now. The poor woman had a small galley kitchen that nonetheless produced mountains of food for us when we ate there. I remember a large meat platter coming out once and one of my cousins wiping it out before everyone had gotten some, and miraculously, out of the kitchen came another full platter. My child’s mind was convinced that the kitchen could produce any amount of food on a moments demand from her. People like her are how impressionable minds end up with outsized images. I think of her more often now than I have for a while.

There’s a lot of good to look forward to. I can know that not only because of optimism but because of experienced adversity. And I’m only lucky that it’s that way.

I stand upon my experienced adversities. And I’m lucky that I am not crushed beneath them. A run of bad luck overcome could just as well have been an overwhelming setback. Lucky.

I have always been aware of the potential for adversity. Conservative types tend to keep them balanced in a ledger. Young: good enough grades in school and a landed job. Young-ish: purchasing a house and providing for children. Getting older: keeping those children safe and nurtured. Definitely older: paying for everything and seeing everyone becoming successful. Old, old, old: securing finances and protecting health. The line items of my feared adversities. Some fears realized, with less or more pain. Others never more than fears. Unrealized. Gratefully.

For the ones realized and overcome, I stand on those. They are my adversities beaten. I allow myself to feel accomplishment. They confirm a worth. They lend a bit of confidence.

Lucky. I could just as easily be stood upon by any number of these adversities. A sickness I can’t shake. A financial loss that I can’t recoup. A loss of another kind that I can’t bear. Others have been stood upon by these problems and in their own way do not recover. The only difference between them and me is luck.

So, I’ll stick to my very conservative ways. I’ll stand upon the grounds gained. The view is nice here. There’s a lot of good to look forward to.

We all wake up to new things. Emily and Garrett woke up in their new home today. Ben and Liv woke up to a new nearness of their wedding. Josie woke up to a new horizon at sea. And I woke up to a new thought: that I should write some unintelligible ramblings.  If you’ve clicked the link and are currently wondering, “Oh no, what did I do,” then here you are untangling the musings of my new blog. May God bless you in all things.