Generational Leap

"Well, that's it. There's no safety net left." I heard my dad stating this at some point this weekend as we shuffled from visitation to funeral to Sunday church together after the passing of the last of my parents' parents. In a single day, an entire generation was launched ahead from kids to adults, and consequently, so moved all of the subsequent generations. My parents became the trunk of the family tree, and I went from being a part of generation child to generation adult officially. Now perhaps, for my cousins this generational leap was not so much of a system shock as they are a few years older, married with kids and such. Maybe they already felt somewhat officially like adults. Despite my establishment in a career, home-ownership, etc., I still very much feel like a kid playing in a grown up's world.

With the generational leap comes a whole new set of things to think about. Even though I am, in theory, far from having to deal with a parental death, discussions have already begun about business owning and selling, being aware of where all financial records are stored, who to call first to deal with all of the legal issues of death. And although I was curious, I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to think about it. Because even though officially, I have lept from generation child to generation adult, I am not ready for what responsibilities come with the leap.

It's strange feeling to suddenly be no one's grandchild. Part of me still longs for the security that comes with being part of the kids group. But the generational leap is inevitable. It's part of life. So much of my grieving process this weekend was not even about my grandma (although I will, of course, miss her terribly), but it was more about facing up to the fact that life and growing up and growing old are things that are just happening, and frankly, I am struggling with how to accept it all.

How did this happen? When did we suddenly grow up? One minute we're all tying the littlest family member up with jump ropes and playing kick the can or annie-annie-over, and then next we're paying mortgages, drinking coffee, and asking for weed-eaters for our birthdays.

Family Like This

This weekend has been full of family...way more full of family than I could have anticipated. I talked with a friend on Monday about the upcoming weekend and the traditions of the immediate family for Thanksgiving and in preparation for Christmas. I told her that as much as I loved my family, it was somewhat hard to be home. I find myself falling into old habits of childhood far too quickly...laundry on the floor, not making the bed... It doesn't take too many days, and I find myself longing for the regularity and routine of my own home. I love my family, but we're still trying to figure out the whole adult-child/parent relationship. It's gotten tons better, but it's something that we'll always work on. 

But with my grandma's passing this week, the entire extended weekend became an extended family filled weekend. Thanksgiving on Thursday, visitation on Friday followed by dinner out with cousins, funeral today that will be followed by a birthday party tonight, and then church and lunch tomorrow. Despite all the family time, today I don't find myself longing for the peace and quiet of my own home. In fact, I don't want to miss out on any family time. It took a while for me to warm up to the idea, but now, all I want to do is stick around. 

My grandparents spent so much time with their siblings that the value and importance of family was ingrained into successive generations' genetics. And I realized as I looked around at all of the family at the funeral today, that very few people today get to experience family the way I have. I know my great aunts and uncles. I know many of my second and third cousins. I know all of my cousins, where they are, their childrens' names... And although every family looks around at their extended family members and comment, "Well, that's a strange lot there," or "They've got their fair share of issues," well, so what. Family is family, is it not? As I ate lunch today with a whole room full of family, I couldn't help be smile as I realized how very lucky I was to know and love so very many of my family. I have taken their presence for granted for far too long. 

So, today, I made it a point to talk to all my dad's cousins, to the great aunts and uncles, to the random third cousins I have seen once a year or so for my whole life but never really knew all that well. I left the church with a pocket full of email addresses, phone numbers, and promises to friend them on Facebook. Because as we lose the rocks of the family, the trunks of our immense family trees, it becomes our responsibility, those of us way out on the farthest branches, to come together, to stay together, to learn about each other, and to make sure that we always love each other. Our ancestors would have wanted it that way.

Grandma Konken

There are many things that I never knew about my grandma until this weekend. I never knew that she worked at the Stout Post Office, grocery store, and several other jobs in Stout. I never knew her middle name (Arlene). I never knew how adorably in love she was with her "honey" through the ages. I certainly never knew how prolifically she wrote in journals. This, out of all the new things I learned about my grandma, was one of the most touching to me...as I sit down to write in my own journal of little thoughts. She wrote about the weather, about who visited when, about what she cleaned or took care of around the house. But every once in a while, a story would grace the pages of her journals, a story of a trip her and Grandpa took together, or a poem that she jotted down, or a prayer. 

A few years back, I gave her a journal for Christmas, not recognizing the significance of the gift at the time. And although she only wrote a few pages over the years, she wrote them to my brother and me. Her thoughts wandered from the events of each day to stories of when we were little to stories of when she was little. Perhaps it is true that the apples and grand-apples don't fall all that far from the tree. 

But there were several things that I was pretty sure of when it came to my grandma. I'm pretty sure she used to curse at me in German. I don't recall her ever once cursing in English, but there's one German word I recall from childhood that I am quite sure she only used in frustration or in jest. I'm sure she was a woman that knew how to speak her mind. She was not a wall flower or a push over. If she had something to say, well, she just said it. 

And I know fore sure that she knew something that perhaps we, as her decedents, may only be slightly aware of now. She knew that food was something much more than what we eat. It is somehow a small window into peoples' lives. In fact, I'm quite sure that she knew that by feeding peoples' stomachs, she could also feed their souls. Sunday lunches after church were never just an excuse to eat. They were special family moments that are now ingrained into each of our hearts. The recipes she made are each tied to memories that we all made together. 

So, today, as we all reminisce about the broccoli-ham casserole, pea soup, and custard in the fancy dishes, we're really thinking of the funny or matter-of-fact things Grandma said, the memories we all made, the strength that lies in family, and how very much each of us were loved...something she never let us forget.