My grandma took her first train ride from Missouri to Nebraska when she was sixteen years old. It was the 1940s, and she had just married my grandpa. While my grandma only lived a short time in Nebraska, eventually settling in South Dakota, I like to think of what she might have experienced as a teenager seeing Nebraska for the first time.
My grandma never told me her life was difficult, but from her stories, I knew life was challenging. Despite living in a different culture and century than we know today, I’ve learned many lessons from her.
Lesson #1: Everything needs a place.
My grandma had an order to her life and home. If you asked her for a rubberband, she’d go into the cupboard, top shelf, and pull out the plastic peanut butter jar that held them. She also had an order to how and when she did things. Thursdays were her bread days. She mixed, kneaded, and pounded the dough. Then, once the dough had risen, she baked. I helped her make dinner rolls a few times. My hands were clumsy as I worked the dough back and forth. Her hands, fast and automatic. That’s how she ran her home, too—with efficiency. She once told me, as she sat on her green chair watching the hustle of the after-supper kitchen clean-up, that she had established three kitchen jobs when her kids were younger: the dishwasher, the dryer, and the floor sweeper. We sat and marveled because even as adults, her daughters automatically found those roles as they tidied the kitchen.
Although I don’t make homemade bread for my family on Thursdays, I see the value of giving days allotted chores. I’ve found that when I do the same thing, week after week, there is a natural rhythm to the day. And although it is a process, there is value in giving everything a home and making sure the rest of my family knows where things belong. I like to think of chores as a puzzle. How can I change how I do this job to use the least amount of brain power? That’s why I switched how I do laundry and assign daily tasks for my kids. I think that’s how my grandma also approached her work.
Lesson #2: A glass of sun tea is the preamble to relaxation.
Just like there was an order to her work, there was also an order to my grandma’s rest. When her chores were done, or the lunch dishes washed, dried, and put away, she poured herself a glass of sun tea and found her rocker in the living room. As a grandkid, this signaled an opportunity to chat or play a game of Chinese checker. Sometimes my grandma napped while I read a book on the couch. But she didn’t rush around all day. There was a clear distinction between work and rest. She accomplished her chosen goals, and then she let things be.
I am the opposite. As soon as I sit down, I notice there is more work to do. The drapes look dusty. The kids never picked up their library books which are due soon. I forgot to thaw the chicken for our Sunday dinner. The thoughts barrel toward me. They beckon me to continue my frenzied work, but I am learning to lean into Grandma’s ritual of rest. Sometimes my glass of tea is a freshly brewed coffee, but it is a reminder that I can set aside all the things that are yet to be done in order to rest. I remind myself that all those tasks will be there when I get up. And if my mind won’t stop spinning through all the things, I pick up a notebook (conveniently positioned by my relaxing chair) and write it all down.
Lesson #3: There is always room at the table.
My grandma told me many times the story of how her mother-in-law would feed strangers who appeared in her kitchen. Even if the guests didn’t share the same language, she knew they were hungry and would place plates at the table for them. Likewise, I’ve seen my grandma welcome unexpected, long-distance relatives and strangers to her table. She would just pull out another jar of her home-canned green beans or add some water to the soup. Every Thanksgiving there were neighbors and distant relatives who came to our gathering because my grandma had invited them. She did not judge someone by their appearance or background but welcomed everyone. Even if her grandchildren were doing things she disapproved of, they were still embraced and loved. She might sit them down and tell them her thoughts, but she never stopped loving them, praying for them, and welcoming them to the table.
We live in a world of cancel culture and blacklisting. It’s easy to write people off when they have offended us. But I don’t want to live with a “talk-to-the-hand” attitude, especially to people I see in person. Even if I disagree with my neighbor, I want to invite him or her to the table. Sharing a meal is the highest form of hospitality. And like my grandma, I want to make room for anyone who wants to sit at my table.
Lesson #4: Share your story.
My grandma never tried to be someone she wasn’t. She was proud to be my grandpa’s wife and never hid her humble Missouri roots. She told me stories of her childhood adventures, but she also shared the hard stories, when asked. She told me how disappointed she was to leave Nebraska after she had made manager at the local factory. She shared how hard it was after my grandpa’s business burnt to the ground, with all their investments inside. But regardless of what she went through, she wanted the best for those around her. She shared her stories in hopes that the listener would glean wisdom from them. She wanted others to understand that where they found themselves currently was not the end of their story.
My grandma has been gone for many years now, but I still think of her—her love and especially her stories. The last time I saw my grandma, she said that what I was doing, as a wife and mother, was important. She wanted me to know that her life, even in the hard spots, had been worth it. Her roles as wife and mother had not defined her but had sharpened her.
I’m grateful to my grandma and other women in my life who have modeled love to their spouses, children, and those around them. They have told their stories and shared life lessons. I’ve watched their lives impact both their families and communities. And I’m so glad that I can soak up their wisdom.
What about you?
Do you have a grandma or other woman who has influenced you? What lessons have you learned from them? I’d love to hear your story!
Copyright © 2023 Ashley C. Shannon, All rights reserved.