I dunno: maybe it’s the weather, grey and dreary rain all week. Maybe it’s the red-and-green Christmas stocking she gave us years ago, now displayed on the entrance to our kitchen. All I know is, I’m missing Aunt Betty today.
My family is half-Catholic, half-Protestant. Betty, my mother’s second-oldest sister–there were six daughters–was a teaching nun at a school in Pennsylvania. When I was a little boy, her old-fashioned black-and-white nun’s habit used to make me uneasy. I once told her that the present I wanted most in the world was a woolly mammoth (I didn’t understand that there were no mammoths anymore). So she made one for me, cut out of an old fur coat. It wasn’t the real thing, but it cured my uneasiness.
I had a lot of growing up to do before I learned to appreciate her kindness, her wit, and her scholarship: she knew her Greek and Roman classics. And then she died; and now I miss her. So many wonderful conversations we could have had! But I do miss my mother and her sisters. They’ve all passed on.
Appreciate your loved ones now. While you can still tell them so.
Good advice, Lee. Christmas is just not as happy for me with most of my family I grew up with gone.
Echoing White Rabbit’s comment, while I was born into a large extended family, most of my relatives have passed away, and among the few remaining, there are significant differences, which is to say that any sort of reunion is unlikely.
The good news is that the Bible offers hope of a resurrection, and we can look forward to having our families restored. If we base our reasoning on the biblical timeline of 6,000 years of human history, there are probably at least 200 generations between myself and Adam. I’ve never met any of my great grandparents, and one grandfather died 6 years before I was born. While great grandparents would be interesting to meet, I have no memories of them, so there is no nostalgia for them.
I miss my parents, grandparents and there are some cousins I truly miss along with some aunts and uncles, but my point is that the extended family we knew as we grew up is very much a function of time and place. Thankfully, we had the relatives we had, and especially so with regard to the benefits of having a loving family when we enter this life.
I had an uncle, the wise elder of the family, who retired to a modest home, in a small town. He had a wood stove in the basement and on cold days, it was the gathering place for the entire family.
He had worked at one job, from the age of 16 until he retired, excepting a stint in the Army, during WW II, where he did the same work as he had as a civilian. My start into adult life coincided with the economic uncertainty of the mid ‘70s, and after fleeing the nest at 19, I ended up back in my parent’s home, struggling to stay employed. My uncle came to visit, and one morning he took me out to breakfast, just he and I. In the kindest of words, he told me that while things seemed a bit rough, that my life would come into focus, and I’d be back on my feet. Within a year, everything he said had come true.
When all is restored to God’s original plan, I am certain that I will have the opportunity to repay his kindness, and this time breakfast will be on me. Likewise, someday you’ll get to see your Aunt Betty, and tell her how much she meant to you, growing up.
All six of them.
It’s the same here. Perspective changes over time, and there are departed relatives who I miss more than ever, even if I undervalued them at the time.
There’s one particular cousin who struggled through life, and died in his forties of natural causes. At the time, I saw only his shortcomings, but in retrospect, he was dealt a bad hand at birth and had an uphill struggle to the last day of his life. No matter what, he kept on trying, and while I saw only his failures when I was young, I now view him as courageous, even though he didn’t always go about things the best way. I miss the guy, now.
Time is an amazing tool. Imagine the wisdom gained by pre-Flood people, whom lived much longer lifespans. Imagine the bonds formed during longer lifespans. It’s staggering to think about. Look at Noah, and the wisdom and compassion he must have learned. I would imagine that his wisdom was sought out by godly people, after the Flood.
Very well said.
My condolences