Many of you are aware of the recent robbery that took place where my family lost most of our precious heirlooms. I am grief stricken and heart broken for our families collective loss. But even before I was given the sage advice to try to look for silver linings, bitter sweet though they may be, they started to emerge.
A box of photos were discovered that no one had seen before. They were my grandmother's photos. She had labeled, boxed, and stored them away so well no one found them even after she passed away in 1997...until now. They are photos of a precious little boy who has been loved and missed.
Even as we are enduring this terrible process of grieving for objects that represented 300 years of family history, and dealing with police, and talking with insurance representatives, there has been not so much of a silver lining, but something to which we can cling. Going through the photos. Although the process and necessity for the task is sad, it also brings back many bright and happy memories.
Memories of me, as a little girl, sitting around the kitchen table down at the farm with my parents, my uncle, and my grandma being told about how the women survived when the men went west during the Gold Rush. Or the story about a Great Uncle who hid in a river under the reeds hiding from Indians but was shot in the cheek and had to cover his cheek when he ate so the food wouldn't come out...or a Great Aunt who was tending her garden when a chain gang went past her house and she heard one prisoner say he would give anything for one of those sweet tomatoes...so she left a few sitting on the fence post for him...and the next time they went past, there was an elegantly carved stone coffee pot stand left on her fence post.
It's not necessary to have symbols of a family history. Memories are just as warm. Though, it sure would be nice to have them back. The little things, like the buffalo horns that have a story behind them, or the little leather pouch that is filled with what to an uneducated eye probably just looks like dirt. All those little irreplaceable symbols to which you can look, and remember, and draw comfort, and feel the blood of 300 years of previous generations coursing through your veins.
My most precious possession, besides my wedding ring, is a little charm that my mother gave me on a silver necklace. It's a charm of a thimble. Back when I was in college, it seemed like my world was coming to an end. My grandmother passed away, my sister nearly died in a car accident, my cousin was kidnapped in Russia (wow, it just struck me how unlikely it is that two children from the same family would be kidnapped, an alarming trend) and all of this happened in a 12 month period.
I did what most college students who lacked the proper coping skills and life experience would do in a similar situation. I broke up with my boyfriend, drank excessively, and listened to a lot of music. Among the artists I binged on that year was a Jazz musician by the name of Kurt Elling. I liked him so much I even gave a copy of the CD to my dad for Father's Day. Well, my mom, being far more observant and intelligent than I gave her credit for at the age of 18, took note of my situation. I was inconsolable. Nobody understood, they just didn't get it, if they did, their world would come to a grinding halt like mine had. Knowing words wouldn't help, and knowing legendary arguments would ensue if she tried on any level to spend time or relate to me, she gave me my space. And a gift.
The gift was a little silver thimble on a little chain with a little card that said "I love you." This somewhat cryptic gift made me break down in tears. It wasn't a Peter Pan reference. She was telling me to put my faith in God. She was telling me that she cared. See, her gift was inspired by one of the songs on that Kurt Elling CD. So when I go to the farm next, and see for my own eyes the devastation of home invasion, instead of looking for whats left...I think I'll look for my grandma's sewing kit and a little silver thimble.
Music by Dave Brubeck and Paul Desmond
Lyric by Kurt Elling
Originally titled "Audrey" from the 1954 recording Brubeck Time
Based on the short story, How the Thimble Came to be God, by R.M. Rilke
Once upon a time a cloud (a little cloud)
gathered her friends together and began to say, aloud,
"Friends, we can't find God. Isn't it odd?"
And they all agreed it was very odd, indeed,
to blow about the sky like a brainless seed.
"Something's really gone awry when older clouds oversimplify
when they say that it's just another day.
It's imperative we be somewhat more truly demonstrative
in becoming provocative.
Our parents neglect God, it's true - all their world is askew.
They go about bickering and scheme of possessing things
as though they own us, too, and own all that we do.
Yet they can't understand
just how foolish it is to build a house on sinking sand.
And when we cry
they say, "Oh my!
You'll grow out of it soon
and start singing a grown-up tune.'"
So the clouds made a vow,
since the grown-ups had lost God, somehow.
They would pick something out that would keep them aware
that they could take with them anywhere (like a lock of hair, or a pear)
- not an animal, or too big.
So the little ones looked about and up and down and in and out
and came up with a list:
They had a feather, erasers and string
pen knives and pencils and pieces of things
that they found in their pockets to spare
(and which they began to compare).
But the shiniest object (when looking them over) the thimble was brightest
and so they decided the thimble was rightest
for taking along and for knowing God was staying long and in their every day.
They knew where to find
their peace of mind
playing a game of tag or 'fame'
they simply had to call out the thimble's name.
Then, one day, the smallest
cloud took a big fall and
dropped the thimble from her hand.
And God turned to sand.
Just then, a wise old woman cloud happened along
and she asked the little cloud, "What's wrong?"
And the little cloud replied, "God's gone."
But the older cloud knew right away,
so she said to the little one, "Here's your thimble. I found it today."
