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| We're already looking forward to Gram's 100th! |
In fact, she was quite delighted. Like the gracious lady she is, she made sure every single guest received a kiss, a hug, and a personal thank you. You would have thought she had just been crowned Miss America, the way she put her little hand to her heart and cried. It was precious - which also happens to be her nickname. To distinguish her from the other grandmothers in our blended family, Grandma Thielet eventually became "Gramma Precious", which is certainly fitting!
What touched me the most, I think, was that so many folks showed up. There were over 40 people who wanted to be sure she knew how much they loved her - family, longtime friends, her children's friends, church friends. I took photographs for the party, and people I'd never met kept coming up to me and telling me how wonderful my grandmother was. I was thrilled that so many of her church friends were younger than she, lively and vibrant senior citizens who had come to act as substitutes for the many brothers and sisters Gram has lost over the years.
My gift to her was a poem I wrote and shared. I don't mean to be cocky, but a personal piece of writing is about the most intimate gift I can share with a person. Plus, the lady is picky and would likely have returned any photo frame, trinket, or piece of jewelry we would have bought for her! I promised that I would put the poem online, so it is below. Please remember that, like everything else on this blog (unless otherwise indicated), is my property and must not be used without consent.
I. Prologue
I am thankful, you dear child, that your family chose America.
That your parents left all they had known for countless generations
And were reborn in a place they had never seen,
Merely imagined,
And that they planted themselves like trees near three mighty rivers.
When the soil seemed rocky, they persevered.
When the weather seemed perfect, they rejoiced.
Knowing that rain still may come, they watched the future,
Never turning back.
II. 1924-1933
I am thankful, you dear Amelia, that your childhood was lively
And filled with the voices of family and friends.
That your brothers protected you and your sisters taught you wisdom.
That, when those terrible storms came,
And blew you all about like twigs and snapped branches,
Your faith never broke.
You locked away in your heart an understanding of poverty, of loss, of lack,
And used it to strengthen yourself in the coming days.
And you never once forgot it.
III. 1934-1943
I am thankful, you dear Mrs. Thielet, that your marriage was for love
And not convenience.
No love but God’s own is perfect, but you kept your promise to cherish and obey.
You saw your man off to war and waited for his return,
A model American,
A modern wife,
In your heels and skirts,
Cooking American food and reading American news,
And dreaming American dreams.
IV. 1944-1953
I am thankful, you dear Mother, that you faithfully raised your son,
A boy who grew up into a man who loved cars and bikes and building things,
Who was stubborn, a little bit grimy, and whose smile was shy but genuine.
Who wanted to be a hero, a rock-star, a bad-boy with a heart of gold,
Who became one,
Who has never been perfect,
Whose dreams are still great,
If sometimes unspoken.
V. 1954-1963
I am thankful, you dear Mother, that you faithfully raised your daughter,
A girl who grew up into a woman who loved art and beauty and kindness,
Who talks to animals,
When they will listen.
Whose heart is full of compassion, who is gracious, and silly, and tender.
Who second-guesses herself when she sometimes shouldn’t,
And who has never stopped being a sweet-faced Daddy’s girl.
VI. 1964-1973
I am thankful, you dear Mother-in-law, that you welcomed into your heart
A broken young woman from a broken home,
Who was afraid of so much
But who bravely believed in hope.
Whose marriage finally crumbled but who came back to you, decades later,
With a peace offering and a humbled heart,
Knowing you were often the silent player in the drama,
A witness to a world falling apart,
Lifting always your prayers to God and giving your ear to listen,
Whether the offer was taken never mattered,
For you knew the prayers were heard and heeded.
VII. 1974-1983
I am thankful, you dear Grandmother, that your hands helped raise three little girls,
An ever-present smile at birthdays and graduations,
A thoughtfully-chosen card with a check in the mail,
Bringing deviled eggs to picnics,
Listening carefully to silly childish chatter,
Attempting to interpret,
Praying when sickness came,
Proudly claiming the family bond when success was in reach – and when it was not.
You never spoke disappointment over them,
Instead encouraging obedience and patience.
They are still learning from your example,
And they are so very deeply inspired by you.
VIII. 1984-1993
I am thankful, dear widow, that your strength in God carried you through
Dark and difficult hours,
An empty house,
Endless questions,
Quiet grief.
When happiness and comfort fell away, you yet found joy – such a different bird –
In your Savior,
Who even now holds in His arms
So many who have gone before you onto eternity.
I am thankful that this faith never runs dry,
Nor does the strength God gives you,
To wake and to live each day with vibrant but quiet kindness.
IX. 1994-2003
I am thankful, you dear sister, that your love was not poured out only on husband, on son, on daughter,
But instead kept flowing for those who needed you –
Sisters and brothers whose bodies and minds began to grow weary,
Sick, and weak.
Patience and sensible gentleness and encouragement were your offerings.
How precious and rare they can be,
Yet you gave them freely, commitment overwhelming convenience every time.
You buried each one, acting as a pillar to their sons and daughters,
And they realize how deeply you are embedded in their memories
Of their parents, their aunts and uncles,
Their family joys and tragedies,
You were always the same –
Even without words, you were there.
X. 2004-2014
I am thankful, you dear Gram, that your prayers have never stopped flowing,
Your faith is still fresh as springtime,
Your love still eager to be given,
Your holiday cards still thoughtfully-chosen,
Your grief when others grieve still true.
I am thankful that your journey has brought you here, to the center of a circle
Of friends and family,
Who admire you enough to make you blush,
Who consider themselves proud to call you their own,
Who brag about you to neighbors and church friends and co-workers,
Who laugh and say, “Let me tell you about this lady I know…”
And whose stories are as many, as brilliant, and as varied as your years.
