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The Lost Art of Love?

2/21/2012

2 Comments

 
How many of us have sat at our grandparents feet to listen to the stories of long ago; stories of memories as if they happened  just yesterday?  
It is no surprise I turned out being such a lover of history looking back now at all the different stories instilled in me.  
One thing I remember however, is the difference in the tales based on the societies my grandparents lived in.  How each of my grandparents fell in love, courted, and then married is so ancient in today's society.  Not unlike today (however not as immoral in my opinion as today...) my grandparents lived in different worlds in the same time period.  There was  a clear definition of what kind of folks they were just by the way they lived, what they ate, how they talked, and what they did.  Yet both couples lived through the hard times of World War II, just after the Great Depression, and both couples lived as frugally as they possibly could learning great lessons from life and history.  Towards the end of their lives, one could not miss the love they shared for each other up unto their dying days.  Today it almost seems a lost art, that of love and long term marriage doesn't it?


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Meet my maternal grandparents.  My grandfather (far left) was Vincent Martin Hubert and my grandmother (next to him) was Marie Anna Irene Theresa Mary.  Wow! Imagine having names that long now a'days!
My grandfather was as you can see a handsome, dapper man who was not too unsuccessful in his endeavors; grandmother, well this beauty was Miss Brown County 1936 and went all the way to the Miss America pageant!   All in all, they were frugal people with a mind for saving and business, well my grandfather was that is, grandmother...well she was a quiet housewife that did not get in the way too much.  She liked talking with the neighbor ladies, and she favored small embroidery projects.  She liked to boil chicken and potatoes for dinner a lot, I remember eating the tasteless chicken as a child and thinking it was all she knew how to cook!  Grandma was a shy and quiet lady, some say she was scared of her own shadow.  I remember my grandfather telling me that when they were children in school one cold December he remembered St. Nicholas had arrived for a visit.  My grandmother was just shaking in fear and he had to calm her down.  Love was already on their horizon then I wonder?  My maternal grandparents lived in a modest but nice home right on the Fox River in Wrightstown.  Everyone knew them and they were highly respected in town.  My grandfather was on the town board and often times when a family was in need, he was the one they went to for assistance or for a day's work.  He was a nicely dressed gentleman for all of his life that I can remember...and she the high class lady.  I am honored to possess her mink cape and have worn it for special occasions including my own wedding...

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May I now introduce my paternal grandparents...John (far left) and Helen Ann ( to his right.)   Stark difference huh?  You can tell by the wedding photograph that John and Helen were simple, everyday folks I bet.  John was a hard working man who worked on the railroad hammering down railroad ties until he got a job at the local mill.  He never completed school and he was raised by moonshiner parents down in the "hollow" by the creek.  Helen was raised on the other side of the "hollow" and when they were kids, they would all swim together in that creek on hot summer days.  "If we owned shoes, it was a blessing, 'cause we most often had to spend most of the year without 'em!"  grandma would often say to me.  My grandpa grew up not having much, in fact his father  ended up blowing up their home brewing moonshine destroying what little they had!  Grandma was lucky to have gone up to the 8th grade in school, and had a true dislike  for having to rise early every day to help her mother make the bread.  She told me that when she got married she never baked bread again finding the ready made and sliced bread a welcome sight.  They owned a very small brick house on the corner of 10th and Main Street in Kaukauna, WI.
These folks were hard working and frugal people.  I remember many meals at my grandparent's house; my grandma could cook like there was no tomorrow!  Never did a squirrel or turtle stew taste as good as when she made it.  Christmas dinner many times was a simple meal in the little kitchen, and consisted of home grown potatoes, pheasant, vegetables, cranberries (my dad's favorite), and grandma's vanilla cut out cookies...yum!  I am honored to own the tin cut out shaped like an angel that her father made for her mother years ago; I still use it today for my own Christmas cut out cookies.  Grandpa John was a hardworking millwright, and I will never forget the red and black flannel shirt he often wore, and Grandma Helen was the housewife that always had a smile and a word of advice, "Oh it will work out somehow, it always does"... (and yes Mom, I too can still hear her voice and how it sounded when she smiled and made that statement...sweet lady she was!)


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Finally, may I introduce my parents and my grandparents!  Wow...look at how proud they all look.  My Grandfather is looking towards my mother with happiness, my grandma is holding my dad's hand...well you can kind of see the love!  
I wonder as I look at this photograph what happened to our view of love in this society.  It seems now that reality television or high school confusion now defines our lives and how we love, and according to divorce statistics, for how long.  We have construed love to be this thing we possess and feel rather than an action.  This society has seemingly  commercialized "love" in a red or pink heart on Valentine's Day, and has issued a sense of making sure we commit ourselves to participate on that day of love or be in trouble!    In my opinion (and one I learned from my husband James...) Love is a choice.  We choose to love a person, it is an action not an obligation.  Currently I am in the midst of watching my little brother fall in love.  I see he is choosing to love this person; he is choosing to be with her, and care for her.  Nothing can be so sweet as the beginning of love for another person and those he or she hold in high regard.  
For me, I am thankful this February for my James as I am throughout the year.  (Those of you that know Mr. Flanagan will now place me in high regard I believe!)  I treasure what I have learned over the years watching how my grandparents and parents loved, and how they  acted out that love to each other and to us.  I have loved, and lost at love...only to find the Lord take care of me with His love.
I wear my grandmother's  mink proudly to the theater all dressed as a lady.  In my kitchen I use my grandma's handmade cookie cutter with pride for the past.  If you can treasure one thing, treasure who you love and remember it is not just on Valentine's or Sweetest Day that you act out that love.  God loves us each and every day and sacrificed His Son so we are able to come to His throne and receive His love..."No greater love hath any man than he who lays down his life for a friend..."

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2 Comments
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    Dawn Marie also known as Rebecca
    Flanagan

    Life long  learning enthusiast...these are my letters of life.   

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