Showing posts with label legacy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label legacy. Show all posts

Saturday, January 13, 2018

Instant Maxwell Coffee



Every child deserves the right to spend quality time with grandparents.  I was blessed with four wonderful grandparents who loved me and, in different ways poured into my life. 

My wife also enjoyed the love of four grandparents who all carried the same last name.  Owens married an Owens!  To set them apart, one was called “Town,” the other “Country.” I asked my wife, “What would you have done had they both lived in town?”

My four children tragically lost their maternal grandparents when they were quite young.  My mom died before any of them were born, and distance usually did not allow them opportunity to spend time with my dad.

As little children, my brothers and sisters and I loved to visit my grandparents’ 90-acre farm.  To me, 5286 Anderson Road in Pierpont was the closest place to heaven on earth!  Memories of waking up to the call of the whippoorwill, and greeting the day with the smells of freshly baked biscuits, crisp bacon, fried eggs and Maxwell Instant Coffee still puts me in a melancholy mood.

Walter Chandler was a tall, slender man who was mostly bald.  How he loved his grandkids!  When we were little, we used to fuss over who was going to sit on his knee at the kitchen table.  Of course, he showed no favoritism, and all of us had our turn. 

We watched in amazement as he poured molasses on his plate, mixed in lots of butter, sopped it up with his biscuit and placed the whole thing in his mouth.  Then he would purposely open wide and let us watch him chew.  How cool!    Grandma would say, “Daddy, now you quit acting like that in front of those children.”  But he seldom listened.

Grandpa’s immediate goal was to get us grandkids started on the right track by drinking coffee.  No grandchildren of his were going to miss out on Maxwell House Instant, if he could help it!  He said that coffee would make our feet turn black.  And he sure did like his strong.  After putting in a heaping teaspoon of coffee into a cup of kettle-boiled water, he began the “doctoring process.”  By the time he quit adding sugar and milk, his coffee had the consistency of maple sugar!

While sitting on his lap and drinking Maxwell Instant Coffee, grandpa would “flick” our head with his thumb.  We thought that was the funniest thing.  Then, he’d use his fingers to stretch the skin.  Sometimes it hurt.  “Now then,” he’d say, “Your brain will have room to grow today.” Grandma usually curtailed his fun activities when he started gnawing on our arms with his teeth!

We were unaware at the time that grandpa was a sickly man who struggled with heart disease.  He loved plowing, disking, planting and hoeing in his garden.  And I loved riding on his Massey Ferguson tractor.  However, he often had to lie down when his strength failed.

We seldom left the farm empty-handed, for when grandpa layed on the couch, he paid each of us kids one quarter to rub his head.

Obviously, grandma was special in her own way, but the memory of grandpa’s fun-loving antics still warms my heart today.  He passed away on his birthday nearly 50 years ago.  He was a good grandpa and I still miss him.  In the meantime, I carry out similar antics toward my grandchildren.  I was taught by the best!


Wednesday, November 22, 2017

The Dash



None of us are going to get out of here alive, unless the Rapture occurs!  One day, as surely as the sun rises in the East and sets in the West, we will “go the way of all the earth” (1 Kings 2:2a).  When our time comes, it won’t matter how much money we have in the bank, what kind of home we live in or the make and model of our car.  Someone said, “I’ve never seen a hearse pulling a U-Haul!”  Only one thing will matter on that day:  A personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

The following poem was written by an anonymous writer, which beautifully conveys what’s really important when we leave this earth.

I’m Glad You’re in My Dash

I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend.
Her referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning to the end.

He noted that first came her date of birth,
And spoke of the following dates with tears.
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth…
And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not how much we own…
The cars…the house…the cash.
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard…
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough
To consider what’s true and real,
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger,
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect
And more often wear a smile…
Remembering that this special dash
May last only a little while.

So, when your eulogy’s being read
With your life’s actions to rehash…
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?

Remember, life is not as much about how many years you live, but how you live your years.  What stories will your dash tell?  As for me, I choose to give my years to Jesus, and touch as many lives as I can.

Regardless of how many years I’m given, I want always to “look to the rock from which I was cut, and to the quarry from which I was hewn” (Isaiah 51:1b).  I’ve learned that an occasional glance backwards helps me keep today in a balanced perspective.  However, I dare not look back too long, as I may get stuck in the past!  Some traditions are good, but generally speaking, tradition is where God was.  I want to be where God is!

Why not take a few moments to reflect back over your life?  Who has touched you in amazing ways?  If they’re still around, let them know!  What events and places have shaped you?  Re-visit them, if only in your mind.  In the near future, I plan to drive by my childhood home on Maple Road in Jefferson; and then to my maternal grandparents’ home on Anderson Road in Pierpont.  Two places that shaped my life!


Inscriptions

None of us is getting out of here alive!  Death is imminent, and it is considered by most morbid to discuss.  And I get it!  Life is preciou...