Sunday Banter

Its Sunday and I wonder how many kitchens around the country are starting to smell like heaven today as a woman (or a man) sweats by the stove listening to her children , or are watching them come to the front door herding their brood through it . It must mean so much seeing your family progress through the years until the next generation gets ready to firmly take the reigns of life while you find the strength to let yours go with dignity and a sence of accomplishment.

One thing I have learned growing up in a small community, in a home with a strong mother, and father is that the simple things in life matter much more than the material things. Mom having a home cooked meal ready every night, simple vacations, Friday night bonfires in the backyard roasting wieners I could go on and on.

Mom ruled with an iron fist, dad was actually the gentle one. I could complain that hugs where in short supply but for some reason common sense dictates that the love she had for me was shown with the devotion she has for our family, and her husband. She is a lion that hasn't wavered much, she says it like it is, LIVES with her imperfections and she puts many “intellectual” feminists to shame.

In hind sight when I hear a feminist ramble on into an intellectual rant against men and the society that “beats women down”, I have to think of my grand mother. She married a man that became a drunk, a bootlegger, a gambler, basically a very selfish person that cared more about himself than his family. He lost the farm gambling, and crapped in his pants regularly (drunk), basically he was a sick man.
Sorry if I seem disrespectful towards this particular grandfather, as his nature dictated I and his family owe him nothing.

Now what did my grandmother do? Divorce him? Nope, she stayed and raised five children; I can’t recall hearing stories of her complaining either. Though she did have the last word, on her death bed. I don’t think grandpa took the cold hard truth very well, I almost think it was the first time in his life he had a look at himself - his real self, and the pain he caused from his selfishness (he actually quit going to the hospital, truth hurts). What a deep lesson to learn late in life, taught not by a feminist but by a woman that went the whole mile for her family. She was never the victim; she bore her burdens, smiled, spoiled me as a grandchild and applied the same love equally (traditionally) to all her children, and grandchildren.

That’s right in a time when there where no social programs for women in situations like hers, or support groups my grandmother smiled, lived her life and laughed. In hind site she taught us a valuable lesson. The same lesson she passed on to her children; to embrace the simple things in life and love them. She never needed pity, or entitlements she was to busy being a mother and running a family.
Her happiness was found in her children and her grand children, Sunday dinners, warm spring days, smiles, her garden, many things.
Feminists could learn something from these women from the past. Who slept in the beds they made, or at the very least where aware of their poor choices.
I don’t think selfishness is a virtue when it comes to a mother and father and their family.
Luckily where I grew up it wasn’t anyways.

It’s uncanny the devotion to family my mother shares with her deceased mother and law.
Actually I’m hoping some will rub off on my two daughters that hopefully will make wise choices most of the time as they grow in a society under assault by moral relativists and their ilk, and take the time when they are older to speak out at those that resent personal responsibility, and may they have little time to whine and complain about men, or themselves being a victim because like the women before them in this family, they too can stand straight and say their piece and lay it out raw for those that know them to digest, while taking the responsibility for themselves and who they are.

They certainly aren’t weak, know the difference between wrong and right, and realise life isn’t a bowl of cherries, but many moments of it can be. And those fill your soul.

My grandmother showed her love for me in so many ways, I can still see her smile like it was yesterday, and like all good women it was the widest watching me devour her home cooked meals, especially her pot pie, macaroni salad, or the jello she always took the time to lovingly cut into perfect squares, even while married to a selfish drunk she picked .Thats a woman that let beauty shine and made sure someday you'd know you helped her find it. My mother does the same to her grandkids , the one difference dad surrenders to his wife and his family never himself. Its been beautiful to watch , and at the same time hard as Dad has CLL and you can see moms concern at times when she lets down her guard, but they still charge on with a smile, and a graceful understanding of how things are.

If you pull back the curtains and peer into life , you'd see beauty exists in harsh realities.