A lot of stories about 911. Many of them moved me to tears, which is pretty easy to do if you know me. I reflected on my story of 911. I was placing an order with the Wooden Soldier, love them, and the operator who was taking my order said that she was sorry that she was having a hard time hearing me because the lines were very busy AFTER WHAT HAPPENED. After I purchased a little Eaton coat for my son I asked the operator what she was referring to. She paused and said, "Ma'am, you need to turn on your television."
I watched the television in horror. I was in absolute disbelief and what I was seeing. My little boys just 2 and 3 were playing in the house, going up the stairs and down the stairs to the toy room and back again. I started to cry. I wanted my gram. I wanted to talk to her and have her tell me that everything would be all right. Gram had been gone for many years, but it was she that I wanted. I called Granny Dorothy instead and she told me everything would be all right.
Over the next few weeks I compiled stories about my gram and Choka (grandfather), it was the warm blanket, the hug and the comfort I needed. As I recounted story after story I still felt somewhat empty inside. I felt fear for my sons in that they would have to fight in a war by the time they were 18. I didn't want that for them. I turned to my stories and started to write a brief summary of their lives. Gram lived to be 67, CHF and diabetes and Choka lived to be 94, bacon and salt. As I looked at all that they had been through, I was amazed. They lived through WWI and WWII, Korea and Viet Nam. They lost children, friends, brothers and sisters. They lived through the Great Depression, the 60s', 70s' and 80s'; they were wild. They lived through societal upheavals, economic disasters, the energy crisis, and political debacles. They also enjoyed many wondrous events in their lives through the birth of grand babies and great grand babies, marriages of their children, grandchildren and all the graduations too. As I looked at their lives summed up in the pages that I prepared to take to the printer it occurred to me that these simple, loving people left behind a wonderful legacy for me to follow and grab hold of when I needed strength; the legacy of having the courage to simply live their lives. Day after day, trial after trial, joy after joy to simply live their lives in thanksgiving and gratitude. This to me was real courage. It was the courage I needed that day to continue to live in hope and gratitude. Thank you gram and Choka.
