january 2, 2017

“Did I offer peace today? Did I bring a smile to someone’s face? Did I say words of healing? Did I let go of my anger and resentment? Did I forgive? Did I love? These are the real questions. I must trust that the little bit of love that I sow now will bear many fruits, here in this world and the life to come.” ~ Henri Nouwen

Our hero continues his recovery at the VA. Sisters Lois, above, and Barbara were there when I went by. They’ve come to see him every day. I listened to the three tell some new stories (to me) of their shared childhood. The interesting thing about siblings with several years between them, and gender playing a role to a degree, is how differently their shared experiences can be. This is true for all of us of course. We’ll each recall the same event in slightly differing ways, but to hear these three recount their youth piqued my interest a great deal. No matter what stories they told, or how different the details, one thing was abundantly clear and that was just how challenging their growing up really was; for each of them but also for their mother. Their father was a miner who would sometimes be gone for weeks or months at a time. Meanwhile, their mother was a home maker trying to feed, clothe, and clean 14 children. Plus, there’s a generation between the oldest and youngest; the oldest born before WWII, and the youngest near the start of the Vietnam conflict. The first six to eight children were born in a variety of coal camps in Eastern Kentucky, and the last ones were born after the family moved back to the maternal family farm at the head of Railroad Fork in Morgan County. It is not an exaggeration to say few people can imagine such a life. While I’m very sorry they had to endure so much hardship, I appreciate the people it grew them into being. All 14 of my grandmother’s children have their own story; unique and powerful. And each one is a blessing.

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