More people are posting pictures of family and friends at Thanksgiving than their food. Why?
… Because our friends and family matter more than the same food everybody else is eating (in the USA) for the day.
The best part of the day for me is the conversations that happen after the meal. Words matter, especially over pecan and buttermilk pie.
Family stories leaving a legacy.
We have been designed for community and relationships. When we gather with friends and family, under the banner of thanksgiving, those bonds are strengthened.
I look forward to one of those gatherings today.
Being thankful is best served every day.
Be thankful today. Be thankful tomorrow. Be thankful the next day.
Leave a legacy of thankfulness.
One of the fun stories my mom told was about being a switchboard operator.
In the late 1930’s my mom was one of many switchboard operators. If you placed a phone call back then your phone number would light up a switchboard. You would tell the operator what number you wanted and then the operator would plug your line into the line/number you requested. “What number please?”
On occasion, when a boyfriend of one of the switchboard operators called another girl, the call would be mysteriously dropped or routed to a wrong number. My mom was never caught, but she helped keep a few boyfriends in line.
There’s no moral to this story. It is simply part of her story. Though, we all like to listen in.
Don’t assume your children can read your mind. Tell them what you think, believe and value.
If you are in a relationship you have played the dinner guessing game. You know these lines: “Where do you want to go to dinner? “I don’t care, you decide.” “Let’s go Italian.” “No, I don’t want to go there.” “Well, where would you like to go?” “It doesn’t matter, you decide.” And around and around we go.
Have a conversation. Don’t play the guessing game. No one can read your mind.
Leave your legacy.
My dad was a veteran of the US Army. I never remember him talking about WWII, but when I helped my mom downsize I found boxes of photographs of his life in the war.
He was a master sergeant and in charge of the logistics for his group. They traveled through Europe tracking and shooting down buzz bombs. He photographed every city and country they were stationed.
There were newspaper clippings from his home town in the boxes. My dad was one of four brothers. One of the articles stated that all four son’s of his mom, my grandmother, were serving overseas. The article spoke of my grandmother’s sacrifice, and it also mentioned that all of her daughter-in-laws lived with her while their husbands served.
60 years later my oldest daughter found the house they lived in and took pictures of it. It was for sale and there was a property description attached to a sign in the yard. It also had a red door. Imagine the conversations of a mom waiting for her sons and wives waiting for their husbands that took place behind that red door.
That is part of my legacy. The sacrifices of war for those who waited behind. All four sons returned safely back home. Today we thank and honor our veterans who served our country. Tell their stories of sacrifice.
After discovering my mom’s dementia and Alzheimer’s, my wife and I moved her into our home. It took a couple of months to downsize her belongings.
The closet on her porch was the last place I cleaned out. Buried on the floor, surrounded by gardening tools, were four large brown cardboard boxes full of newspaper clippings. I had never seen them.
The clippings and photos were mostly from the 1930’s through the 1950’s. Dating, WWII (extensive), civic clubs, family, banking, there was even a picture that looked like the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life.”
I was stunned. No one ever shared these stories….at least to me.
There are several reasons for this blog. I’m still working on the ultimate clarifying theme, but here is what I’m thinking.
I want to write as many stories as I can so that my children and grandchildren know what mattered to me. And I want them to pass these stories (the good ones) to the next generation. I want to leave an intentional legacy that is not left in cardboard boxes or with the thousands of social media pictures that will be deleted when the storage is full.
I want to help you ….. yes you… the reader of this blog…. to have a healthy relationship with your children or your parents. It’s hard. You will need to be intentional. You may need to reconnect. You will need to listen and learn and love and show grace and forgive.
I want to help you leave a good legacy. I want it to be remembered for the next generation. Don’t be silent. Don’t hide your legacy. Tell it!
And I want to help you tell your parents legacy!
This is a parenting tip. Your aroma speaks louder than your words. Your aroma is the tone, expressions, behaviors and attitudes that reflect who you are. They are caught, not taught.
When children are younger they copy. All you have to do is say a bad word and they will repeat it (in front of their teacher) when you least expect it.
Parenting teenagers is tough. However, if the aroma doesn’t match the words, it will be tougher.
Joy, laughter, kindness, fun, grace, forgiveness, value and respect are better tones than being critical, judgmental and harsh. Whatever the tone of your home is … it will fill every room.
There is a power when the words and aroma match. Whether good or bad, your children will become just like you.
Our backyard has nine bougainvillea bushes and vines. Red, yellow and purple blossoms completely cover our fence line. They are beautiful.
For years my kids hated these vines. Sharp thorns scratched their hands and arms when wayward balls and frisbees were swallowed by the bushes. But they have accepted the fact that these thorny blossoms are part of my story.
I have traveled through Central and South America. In every remote, dry and dusty village, even though there are no signs of any foliage, we would often see bougainvilleas. They were resilient. Growing in places where nothing else would grow.
Part of the legacy I want to leave to my children and grandchildren is for them to have resilience. And every time they see a bougainvillea, I hope they think of dad and think of being resilient.
One of my sons planted a tangerine tree in the backyard. He carefully planted, weekly weeded and fertilized regularly.
He did this for months, then years and still no tangerines. We were all wondering why the tree was not producing fruit.
A friend of mine stopped by and looked at the tree. He said, “ Oh, that tree will never produce fruit…..it is not a fruit bearing tree.” I’m thinking why is it even called a tangerine tree.
When my son came home later in the day I tell him the bad news. He walks to the garage, raises the door, grabs the axe and in one blow destroys the fruitless tree. He drags the tree to the street, closes the garage, washes his hands and then goes to do homework.
It was so frustrating. The tree was expected to grow.
That simple story is one that I often tell. It is one of our family legacy stories. It will be passed down to his children one day. And like that tree we are expected to grow; mentally, physically, spiritually, and in relationships.
I was a young teenager running down the stairs of my home. My grandmother sat on her rocker and my dad was stretched out on the sofa. He was exhausted from chemotherapy and they were watching the Lawrence Welk Show.
As made it to the bottom of the steps I heard my dad tell my grandmother as I ran outside to play, “He’s a good kid.” I’m sure there were other conversations with my dad, but those are the last words I remember.
Those words were a gift that not everyone receives, but those words are a gift that everyone can give. Maybe the words that your parents or children hear today are the words that they will remember. Encourage them.
Keith Albert 