“Well, they did as we asked; some of the clutter in their bedrooms is gone,” my husband commented this week as we surveyed two piles of bagged items—some intended for the thrift store and others labeled “attic.”
“Looks like some of this stuff is just too precious to give away,” he remarked as he set up a ladder below the opening to our attic. “Is all this worth keeping? I’m in a move-it-out-of-here mood!”
When the kids indicated the bagged items were all treasures, the attic door was opened. One child held onto the ladder to steady the wiggle and I stood on the next-to-highest rung to hold the flashlight and watch as Matt crawled around our dusty attic. When we realized our stash needed some reorganizing, some of the boxes not specifically labeled were lowered down into the family room for closer inspection.
The most intriguing boxes were those labeled “childhood” in my parents’ handwriting and I was curious, for it had been years since I’d looked inside. My husband indulged my need to reminisce and lowered them down for a closer look. These boxes, some including items I chose and others holding items my parents chose to save for me, hold childhood treasures they thought I would appreciate as an adult.
Their choices are wonderful. There are dried wrist corsages from high school dances. My first driver’s license. School papers representing my best work and report cards. Classroom pictures with names of my classmates carefully recorded on the back. Old receipts which make for some interesting price comparisons. A fabric sample of the “flower power” bedspread my grandmother sewed for me.
I was certain my pleasure could not be matched until I opened a box labeled “family correspondence—college years.” The enclosed letters are a great representation of my parents and the ways they both chose to communicate with me. Newspaper articles and news about family and friends came from my mom. Carefully crafted words representing deep thought and sentimentality were contributed by my dad.
I treasure everything about those letters, just as I did 30 years ago when I was a young college student and wanted to know what was going on back home. Only today my appreciation is more profound, for I am a parent of collegians and the same burning desire to impart wisdom churns deep inside of me. In this day of email, phone instant messaging and blogging, I find that holding the letters in my hands and seeing my parents’ familiar handwriting touches me deeply. As I read through them I enjoy the mental image of both sitting at their desk, sometime during the evening after work, to pour heart and soul onto some stationary because they understood that their thoughts were safe with me. Dad, in particular, indulged in a great deal of sentimentality:
You have been away to school about 10 days now and I am missing you greatly already. My knowledge that you are doing what you have wanted for so long and what your mother and I take as our pleasure in helping you to do makes our first real separation bearable but not easy. I miss your cheery “hello” but take pleasure in the circumstances that you take from us.
When I wondered if I could manage a part-time job as a dorm resident advisor while attending school full-time, Dad wrote:
If you want to do something worthwhile in life you must be a risk taker and not be afraid of failure. History is full of examples of people who failed many times before they achieved a worthwhile and outstanding goal.
His words of encouragement take on new meaning today as I ponder and share their wisdom. Cancer ended our ability to talk and interact in this world, but I’m reminded with these words that love never dies. It’s power breaks physical barriers and lives into eternity while dwelling here. That legacy of love emboldens me to communicate with my children without abandon, even when the sentimentality slightly embarrasses them and may not be accepted with the reaction I desire. I’ll remind myself that bravely speaking love and encouragement and sharing nearly a century of gained wisdom will allow me to love on them when I’m unable to be there in person.
Let’s stop at some point this week and thank God for the wisdom and encouragement he hands us, each and every day, through people and circumstances. And may we make it a point to use words that bless the people in our lives, never doubting that faithful sentiments can and will impact our world, now and into the future.
