Sunday, May 15, 2011

Jars

Did I mention that I sold all my canning jars? Almost 50 dozen. To a sweet little old lady, who told me how excited she was to be able to can.

This lady told me about about the great arrangement she had with her daughter. Her daughter would do all the canning if she would just take care of the baby for her. She beamed as she told about her little miracle grandbaby. The little baby who's birth and life, which shouldn't have happened, but did -- and as a result brought such joy to this lonely widow.

Because her daughter needed to build up her food storage, she would surely need a lot of jars. She said she wanted all the jars I had. Because the lady loved the time spent holding her granddaughter, she didn't even hesitate to calculate just how much food... and time... 50 DOZEN jars would consume.

For some reason, this lady then asked me about my grandmothers. She wanted to know about both of them. So, as I packed the jars, and filled her car with them, I got to tell her about the strong women in my life -- who have made such a difference in shaping and forming who I am today.

I remembered the many Friday nights I would spend on Coneflower Street. Grandma would make mac and cheese, and then we would eat ice cream with granola in bed and watch Magnum PI. I told her how every Sunday, I would go back to Coneflower Street, and would snack on carrot sticks and cookies while we visited. I spent so much of my childhood on Coneflower Street. Rocking in a chair, cutting magazines, walking a dog. Being loved by Grandma.

I told her about the times I would stay with Grandma on Alton Way. How she would talk to me about politics, religion, and my ancestors. How she always reminded me, "The Gospel is True!"

Both of my grandmothers have been where I am now. They know what it is like. And I'm so grateful for that.

The jars were symbolic of a era now past -- of searching desperately for love that wasn't capable of being shared. Of trying to prove I was worth something.

And when we were done visiting (the old lady and I), the jars were gone. It was as if my grandmothers were there with me, helping me pack those boxes and send them away. The sweet little lady gave me a hug when she left. It was really the embrace my grandmothers sent from the other side of the veil. Hugs from people who know what it is like. Love from people who love me, and are praying for me. Support from people who's righteous life continues to bless and enhance my life today.

Thanks Grandma N & Grandma H for blazing the trail. For showing me that true love comes from on high. For helping me properly end a painful part of my past, and making that end such a joyful experience. I'm moving on and I'm stronger now. Thanks for setting the example of enduring to the end. I won't let you down.

3 comments:

  1. This is such a beautiful post. I am crying my eyes out and so happy for you at the same time. You are my hero.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Amy- you and I both. My Dear Jen- you are a gem yourself (as we were just talking about gems). Love you. Love who you are. Love your mind and vantage point. I'm looking forward to reading all these posts.

    ReplyDelete