During the week before Easter, my mother-in-law past away and we found ourselves trying to find the quickest flight to get from Tennessee to Pennsylvania. However, there was a snowstorm in Chicago and our flight got cancelled due to snow. Thus Allan and I found ourselves driving over 900 miles making only a few brief stops so we could make it in time for the funeral.
As we drove I found myself remembering the various car trips I have been on from Tennessee to Pennsylvania since the 1980s, pondering family vacations, college trips and holidays. Some of the same places remain at many of the exits. We drive through the night and I feel every bit my age the hours blur together and by the time we arrive in PA I am not even sure what day it is. I realize as I think about the years in which parents drove straight through the night to places they were a bit younger than Allan and I having not even reached 40. Once we arrive at the house lots of caffeine, food and wine enable me to plow through the merry go around of emotions and little sleep.
The house is quiet causing me to reflect on the holidays and time spent there. While some things have already gone, much has remained unchanged and evidence of years past remains -VHS tapes, records, and even clothing reflecting styles of the 1980s with some even earlier. The dishes, glasses and silverware are in the same cabinets they have been for probably more than our married life. My husband finds his Boy Scout merit badges, letters his Mom wrote to him during college and even W-2s from his first job. The pantry is full providing evidence of her growing up in the depression and raising five boys both making frugality a necessity.
We attend the funeral at St. Cyril's and Methodius Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church where Bill and Evelyn were married and all five boys were baptized. Later in the week we participate in the Blessing of the Baskets and attend the Easter Vigil. I am drawn to the stain glass windows and the icons reflective of the more than 1000 year old traditions having been observed for over 150 years in this parish in Northeastern Pennsylvania. The choir no longer sings in the loft, as most of them can no longer climb the stairs. The priest is not one the whom I first met 15 years ago and even less Ukrainian liturgy is spoken than we I first came. Yet I feel connected to the communion of the Saints and all who have spoken the Divine Liturgy who are now with the Lord Jesus Christ. At the cemetery, I reflect that Evelyn again is part of a long tradition, a place where the words spoken have been said for more than my lifetime, a place where both her parents and grandparents are buried and a place where the priest who married her and Bill is buried as well.
As Allan and I head home our car is full of boxes reminiscent of the early years of our marriage when his Mom would send us home with food, Christmas decorations and anything else she thought we could use. We travel across PA, through Ohio, Kentucky and then into Tennessee. Part of this route, brings up memories of my early childhood when we traveled this route to my Uncle 's home stopping to visit several different people friends of my family in Ohio. There is still construction and again the days and the years have blurred together as we find a place to stop and spend the night then make our way home.
As I unpack boxes, I think about how Evelyn loved her family and loved to have parties. She took pride in her home and her collections. I place some of her things on our mantle wondering when she purchased them and why she chose those particular figurines. Yesterday, I received an e-mail reminding me to send flowers to her for mother's day reminding me that some things will never be again. Time passes both slowly and quickly. Life is short and yet at the same time some days feel too long and too hard. So I remember going to the flea market at the exit with the hill and watching the Bachelor with her. I will remember shopping at Kohls and her love of flowers especially tulips. I will remember the trips for ice cream, playing Chinese auction and learning about Ukrainian traditions.
It is Friday April 26, 2019 and I must love in the moment enjoying my husband and my cats knowing that while things will be different, I can treasure the memories and enjoy the things passed down to us that she loved.
As we drove I found myself remembering the various car trips I have been on from Tennessee to Pennsylvania since the 1980s, pondering family vacations, college trips and holidays. Some of the same places remain at many of the exits. We drive through the night and I feel every bit my age the hours blur together and by the time we arrive in PA I am not even sure what day it is. I realize as I think about the years in which parents drove straight through the night to places they were a bit younger than Allan and I having not even reached 40. Once we arrive at the house lots of caffeine, food and wine enable me to plow through the merry go around of emotions and little sleep.
The house is quiet causing me to reflect on the holidays and time spent there. While some things have already gone, much has remained unchanged and evidence of years past remains -VHS tapes, records, and even clothing reflecting styles of the 1980s with some even earlier. The dishes, glasses and silverware are in the same cabinets they have been for probably more than our married life. My husband finds his Boy Scout merit badges, letters his Mom wrote to him during college and even W-2s from his first job. The pantry is full providing evidence of her growing up in the depression and raising five boys both making frugality a necessity.
We attend the funeral at St. Cyril's and Methodius Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church where Bill and Evelyn were married and all five boys were baptized. Later in the week we participate in the Blessing of the Baskets and attend the Easter Vigil. I am drawn to the stain glass windows and the icons reflective of the more than 1000 year old traditions having been observed for over 150 years in this parish in Northeastern Pennsylvania. The choir no longer sings in the loft, as most of them can no longer climb the stairs. The priest is not one the whom I first met 15 years ago and even less Ukrainian liturgy is spoken than we I first came. Yet I feel connected to the communion of the Saints and all who have spoken the Divine Liturgy who are now with the Lord Jesus Christ. At the cemetery, I reflect that Evelyn again is part of a long tradition, a place where the words spoken have been said for more than my lifetime, a place where both her parents and grandparents are buried and a place where the priest who married her and Bill is buried as well.
As Allan and I head home our car is full of boxes reminiscent of the early years of our marriage when his Mom would send us home with food, Christmas decorations and anything else she thought we could use. We travel across PA, through Ohio, Kentucky and then into Tennessee. Part of this route, brings up memories of my early childhood when we traveled this route to my Uncle 's home stopping to visit several different people friends of my family in Ohio. There is still construction and again the days and the years have blurred together as we find a place to stop and spend the night then make our way home.
As I unpack boxes, I think about how Evelyn loved her family and loved to have parties. She took pride in her home and her collections. I place some of her things on our mantle wondering when she purchased them and why she chose those particular figurines. Yesterday, I received an e-mail reminding me to send flowers to her for mother's day reminding me that some things will never be again. Time passes both slowly and quickly. Life is short and yet at the same time some days feel too long and too hard. So I remember going to the flea market at the exit with the hill and watching the Bachelor with her. I will remember shopping at Kohls and her love of flowers especially tulips. I will remember the trips for ice cream, playing Chinese auction and learning about Ukrainian traditions.
It is Friday April 26, 2019 and I must love in the moment enjoying my husband and my cats knowing that while things will be different, I can treasure the memories and enjoy the things passed down to us that she loved.
I too have been feeling sad for so many things that used-to-be. Trying to "love in the moment" is an act of will, though, and I am sad that apparently the days of family "chaos week" at Uncle Dick's house are now part of the used-to-be.
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