Today is Easter Sunday. There is turmoil in the family so my husband and I are spending the day together. This time of year is always difficult on me anyways with Jared's birthday approaching. I can't help but think back to carefree times in my childhood. Cliche? yes! When times were simpler.
I am reflecting on childhood Easter gatherings at my grandparents house. They lived on a farm in Central Illinois where hogs and cattle are not pets but future meals. Gardening wasn't a hobby, rather a necessity. When I was very young, I remember entering the stairs to their front door and down the entryway to the door into the living room. The home was built in the 1800s and each room had a door to help with the heating and cooling of the rooms as needed. The house was not huge, yet our large family seemed to fit just fine. My grandparents each came from large families. That is not uncommon in those days. Hey - their parents had to stay warm in the winter you know! (just kidding) Gatherings included aunts and uncles from both sides. Cousins - too many to count. Friends, neighbors, it didn't matter there was always room at the table.
In the late 70s my grandparents home burnt due to a new fangled device called the wood burning stove. It was all the rage of the time to bring the smells and cheaper heat source into the homes. My grandparents were proud of that stove. I remember being put in our pickup truck and driving the hour to get to their house in the middle of the night. Neighbors had already drug a camper trailer in for them to live in next to the house that had just burnt. The farm must still be tended to. In the hours and days to follow ladies came together from around the community and gathered items they could spare, bought new items and within a couple of days Grandma could again fix the delicious food she was known for. The men did the same for Gramp. A comfy chair was the first priority for any farmer for those after lunch naps before heading back to the fields. Handmade quilts came in and gatherings took place complete with meals shared, stories from the past and plans were made to rebuild the neighbors home.
I am not sure at what point in history we went from how are WE going to help you get this done, to what are YOU going to do now. But within days a double wide modular home was put in the very place where their home had stood. A "mud room" was built to connect the back door to the "smoke house" where all the canned items were stored and butchered farm animals were in the freezer.
That home was smaller than what they had before but we still all managed to fit in there during gatherings.
We knew the difference between our inside and outside voice. Pretty dresses and dressed up boys bounced around outside playing on rock piles, digging in dirt, riding tractors, shooting bb guns and playing games. No parent yelled at us because we were dirty, but we were directed to the "lavatory" to wash our hands for the meal. We were all welcomed back to the kitchen where chairs awaited us with sears catalogs stacked to the appropriate height to allow each of us each to sit to eat. The brightly colored metal glass had sweet tea in it. A blessing was given for the food we were about to eat followed by a unison Amen. We all knew if we ate all the food we chose to take (but must try 1 spoon of everything) there was some amazing, beautifully decorated, made from scratch, desert that was waiting for us to devour before returning to the outdoors. Come to think of it....it was all from scratch! Oh the good old days.
I miss my grandparents dearly. They were the glue for the family. Didn't matter if you were family by birth, marriage, adoption, or draft and choice, there was always room for you. Neighbors talked to one another, gathered for weekly updates, ladies had monthly birthday clubs, men had coffee hour and community meant something. It meant we are a family by choice!
Times have changed for sure. Houses are so large you have to send a text message to your husband to come to dinner. Your children at the age of 3 live in a different zip code. We don't even know the names of our neighbors let alone talk to them. We don't ask how we can lift up our community but rather how we can sit back and judge them being less than what we are. We went from being US centered to ME centered.
Maybe it is time to go back to smaller houses, bigger tables, open hearts, and less judgement.
