Tonight I visited several captivating blogs:
- Sheila Rogers reblogged her poem “Fear to Peace” bloggerjintz
- Saving Without Scrimping posted Adventures with Groceries
- David Snape and Friends posted A letter to Me
- redfacedbutrunderful posted Writing 101 dealing with a loss
- many others…
I challenged one of the authors above to write a blog post, in the not too distant future, on happiness. He/she had mentioned “I’ve always wondered why it’s easier to write about sad, overwhelming emotions compared to happy ones.” I challenge you to seek out the blog posts above to find who said that!
Most of us seek happiness, but we punctuate sadness. In an attempt to embrace happiness tonight, I want to share one memory! Perhaps a few?
My maternal Grandmother lived to a wonderful age of 99 years and six months. When she was a mere 95 years of age, I was asked by my mother to move into Grammie’s bedroom as a favour to all who loved her. By sleeping with Grammie, I was sure to keep an eye on her during the night and make sure she was able to get in and out of bed safely, while the rest of the house slept.
Grammie was a ferocious reader, taking on books written by Malcolm Muggeridge and cross referencing them to the bible. I was completing my Commerce Degree at the time and routinely burned the midnight oil. Grammie saw this as an opportunity to stay up as late as I would and study with me. This took place in the late seventies and home computers had not reached the everyday household. So we both had desks, covered with our text books, multi-coloured pencils, exercise books and erasers. In my case I had a Texas Instrument calculator, as I was immersed in university life and needed the latest in technology!
My heart nearly bursts when I think back to those days. You see, as a young woman, Grammie actually attended Bowdoin College of Brunswick Maine. Her father permitted her to attend college for two years, which was a rare privilege given to women at the turn of the 20th Century. I knew that in the 1970s, studying with me after midnight brought my Grandmother back to those titillating years. If my memory serves me correctly, she studied Muggeridge’s Chronicles of Wasted Time and followed that with a biography on Mother Theresa. She was captivated by articles written on the work of Stephen Hawking concerning the Singularities of Gravitational Collapse and Cosmology. We sat and chatted about black hole theory, the universe and religion.
Thinking back on Grammie today, I am so very proud of all she accomplished. She was the daughter of a Baptist Minister from Leeds Maine. She married a Baptist Minister who immigrated from Northern Ireland. Together my grandparents lived all over the United States and Eastern Canada. They raised two accomplished daughters, one a teacher and one a nurse as well as a remarkable and adventurous son. Best of all, in my opinion, she helped raise me. She taught me to love learning and pondering what I learned. She taught me gentleness, patience and generousity.
These years created some of the fondest memories I have of her, as too many childhood memories seemed to have faded away. I had the most loving environment in the world to grow up in. I may have missed the thrill and adventure of living on campus, but I was so fortunate to live at home and have the chance to study with my Grandmother.
Thank you Grammie for tucking me in, 33 years after you passed away, with a feeling of contentedness and filled with happy thoughts. I know you would kiss me on the forehead about now and whisper, “God Bless and Angels Guard!”