We are all friends, daughters, sisters, aunts, mothers, and (hopefully someday) grandmothers. Our lives are woven by God into a tapestry made up of threads of the past, colored by personalities, strengthened by wisdom, and patched with love. Recently, Writespassage featured pictures from the past. Behind them all, there are a million stories and memories. In honor of Mother's Day, I pulled pictures from a heritage scrapbook I've made and thought I'd share a snippet about my ancestors.
Grandma Peggy and Grandpa Jimmy weren't blood kin, but they were my God-given, ever-loving blessing. Grandma Peggy grew the most amazing gardenias by dumping each morning's coffe grounds at their base.
On Daddy's side, there was my Great-grandmother, Florence Dell Smith. She lived with us for a time, and my strongest memories of her all revolve around jam. We passed it around the table so it reached her last, and she couldn't wait. "Where's my jam? Who has my jelly?" Once the dish reached her, she ate every last speck of it!
My Daddy's mother, Carol Wynonna Stahl Smith, was a minister's wife who lost one child and reared six more through the Great Depression. Stone deaf by the age of twenty-two, she still sang with perfect pitch. One Christmas, she brought an entire suitcase to carry two hats!
On Mom's side....Great-grandma Elizabeth Albright Krehbiel was a wheat farmer's wife. Long before "The Price is Right" used their phrase, "Come on down!" she'd step out onto her porch and motion to all of her relatives to hop off the horse-drawn wagons and call out in German, "Come on down!"
Grandma Enda Krehbiel Gering, her daughter, always baked. Her home smelled of freshly baked break, cinnamon rolls, apfel borogie, and pie. When I was fourteen, she came to California for Christmas, and she taught me to bake. Her dogs loved her baking, too--she'd butter fresh, hot bread, sprinkle it with sugar, and give them "just a little bite or two." or three or four..... Her dauchunds weren't weiner dogs--they were sausage dogs!
Great-grandma Gering and her groom, Ben, moved into a farmhouse where they put down deep, deep roots. Fifty years later, they celebrated their 50th anniversary with an open house at that same place. She and her sister both married Gering brothers, and both couples had loads of kids. Looking at pictures of the huge family together, it's nearly impossible to tell who belongs to whom.
Yes, behind every mother there are generations of women, friends, sisters--all who made her who she is. And following them is inevitably a big-mouthed kid who spills the beans!
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!