Your Roots Are Showing

Sometimes I think I must have grown up on a different planet. The life I knew as a small child is so far removed from now that I can hardly imagine how it has happened. I suppose that this is how our grandparents felt when they saw the covered wagon disappear and the jet airplane take it's place. But the thing that's troubling me today is not the change in technology, but the change in people.

Thanks to the family I came from, my roots were always showing. In other words, I could tell where I came from because I saw it, spoke to it and read about it regularly. And due, I am sure, to the sturdy pioneer stock from which I have sprung, my extended families were quite numerous. So much so that in the small community where I lived most of my young life, I still have relatives I haven't even met yet!

However, I can tell you about some of the relatives I did meet. There was my amazing Great-Aunt Edith. I only knew her when she was very old, but I will always remember her pizazz and funny stories. When we would visit her, when she was in her nineties, she would quiz us on current events, rant about the latest scandal in the government, and brag about her latest trip across the country. Reckless, fun-loving and irrepressible, Aunt Edith was a gem. She had read more books than anyone I knew of and frequently quoted poetry from her school days. She had been raised on the prairie not fifty miles from where we were visiting her and she always seemed as fresh as the wild prairie roses in spring. I always wanted to be like her; daring, intelligent, independent.

Then there was my cousin David. Inventor, writer, daredevil, Army man and an amazing musician, I looked up to David from the time I was old enough to say his name. I followed him around like a puppy, trying to learn his secrets. I can still remember the amazing movie he made on his own, just after home movie cameras came out. He painstakingly pieced together, frame by frame, the epic adventures of a bale of hay from it's birth in the baler to it's career as an outlaw. The final scene shows the bale gloating over the destruction of a vehicle it has somehow managed to push over a cliff. Hard to imagine? Yes. But to me, it was innovation at it's best. Oh, how I wanted to be like him; creative, unique, talented.

Oh, and there's Uncle Bobby. I rarely saw him, he lived so far away, but when I did, he made a difference in my life. One day, after one of the many family gatherings we had, I was in trouble for being gone too long without telling anyone. I was sitting in the car pouting about it when Uncle Bobby popped his head in the window. He smiled and said everything was OK, and that he still loved me and not to take things too seriously. I smiled back and felt a whole lot better. And whenever I recall his smiling face and loving heart, I still feel better.

Now don't forget Grandpa and Grandma. The heroes of my youth, Grandpa and Grandma came to see me on every one of my birthdays, except when they were snowed in. I always got a nice gift, a kiss, a hug, a piece of gum and a short little lecture on good manners. I can still feel their arms around me and Grandpa's thump on my head. And it was Grandpa, yes, Grandpa who taught me in the kindest way possible, the finer points of how to wear make-up and, of course, at a time when my brothers could not over-hear. Grandma always sent me to wash my 'patties' (another name for hands). Grandpa always told silly jokes and sang fun songs while he played the piano or ukulele. Grandma cooked the best food and Grandpa had the best farm. They even let us stay at their home for a week at a time, just to eat their food and play with their toys. How I loved them for that.

But best of all, they were my family. Christmas time was spent visiting families; sometimes one, sometimes another, sometimes all of them at once. Singing, dancing, playing, reading the Christmas story, dinner and an endless stream of relatives and friends who just dropped by during the holidays for a cup of coffee and a piece of cake; that's Christmas to me. I've just decided. We were rich! And just about the best gift I can give to my children is to be the kind of relatives that I grew up with. So as my grandchildren grow they will see that their roots are showing, and they can be rich too.