Sentimental Conversations are Therapeutic.

Coming home today to this (Makai in the laundry room) was especially sweet today. There is a new found delight I have in being the father of 4 energetic, happy, often disobedient, messy, snotty nose, sometimes sick, sweet little kids.

It was an insightful 90 minute conversation with an 85 year old woman that helped my perspective.

I went over to see my Grandmother's best friend of 67 years, as she had recently had a mild stroke.

We talked about life during the great depression. She shared about meeting my grandparents and how their friendship endured tragic loss (i.e. she was the first to tell my grandmother her brother died in a car accident), but also times of joy (i.e. the birth of children and grandchildren).

She spoke about life before refrigerators- what it was like to have an "ice box" (they literally put a block of ice on the top of a box to keep food cool). Life before radios, before electricity, before carpet in homes and before phones with numbers (There was a dial and no numbers where one line was shared by 6 other homes. You could listen in on other people's conversations and had to wait until they were off! Imagine WAITING to use the phone...are you kidding me?).

Then there was the War. She and my grandmother worked in a canning factory and shipped corn straight to the soldiers in battle. When the screw broke that worked the well pump, there was no Lowe's down the street. A machine store in another town had to custom make a replacement. The only problem- they were too busy making parts for tanks, guns, ships, etc...

Waiting was normal.
Shopping was unusual.
Transportation was limited.
Communication was relational.
Information was audio.
Faithfulness was expected.
Walmart, internet, "hooking up" and "co-habitation" were non-existent.

It was life before conspicuous consumption (sigh...) People were more content with having little. They seemed to want what they already had. That's a far cry from me (daily?) looking on ae.com to see if the $70 jeans I want are on sale yet.

Their lives were more about hanging out for tea on the front porch than safely entering the garage as an escape from having to interact with neighbors.

It was the 30's and 40's. The Great Depression marked ones childhood, while the War consumed early adult years. It was husbands coming home from war, then sons leaving for Vietnam. Then it was my generation coming into the world around the time of her granddaughter (1976). Now it's suffering the loss of daughter-in-law, son, and husband within 20 months. Now a mild stroke. The technology of iphones, TiVo, podcasts, and WiFi seems to be a futile pursuit. It's waiting to "go home."

It was a return to the past- a conversation filled with laughter, tears, and prayer.

It was the kind of nostalgic conversation I wish I had time for more often. But after looking over the horizon of a life time, I'm glad to be home.