Over the Christmas holiday I was sharing some stories from the past. Christmastime is full of old stories and the joy of the season. Not all Christmas stories are happy ones though, some are tales of sadness and loss. I shared one which has been told to me since I was born. My maternal Grandfather passed away,at home, on Christmas eve in 1949. That was four years before my own birth, but I know the story well. My eldest brother was two at the time. He was waiting for Santa Claus. Grandfather Horace lie in his bed not feeling well and had already said goodnight to my brother. He had told him,we'll wait for Santa. Later in the evening my Grandmother came out of the room and told my Mom, we had better send for the doctor. When the doctor arrived it was too late for him to be of any use, Grandfather had passed away. And so Grandfather Horace lie in his bed until Christmas morning when the undertaker arrived to take the body. Mom vividly recalls them taking her father out of the house, passing the Christmas tree as they did so. Soon my brother was awake and was looking for Santa. Christmas had to go on and so it did. The presents were opened and life continued.
Little was spoken about Grandfather Horace other than the story of his passing. This is in keeping with an old adage my Mom repeats. It is not nice to speak ill of the dead. From most accounts Grandfather Horace had a few faults. I gather his human frailties got the better of him in life. It has only been in more recent years that I have heard any tales of him that were not negative. It is unfortunate that that should be so. Also it is sad that there is no one left that really knew him other than my Mom to tell the tale. She was the youngest of ten children and I'm certain the eldest child would have a different tale to tell. That always seems to be the case anyway. But in thinking about this tale and how Mom always told it I came to realize just how pragmatic Mom is. In fact in the old days I would have to say the majority of the people where that way. Today we have become a bit too idealist, don't you think ? We expect to much from others and from ourselves. With all our modern conveniences and technology things are getting a little too easy. The human spirit needs struggle and strife to nurture and nourish it. The will to go on requires exercise just the same as any other endeavor we undertake.
It would seem to me that we rely too much on resources from outside ourselves a bit too often. We are looking for help when there is no help. No one can mend your broken heart, no one else can bring your soul comfort. These things must come from within ourselves. Therapists and counselors can provide some guidance and instruction, but they are not the cure. The cure comes from you. Whether you draw that strength from your religious convictions or from a purely " logical " point of view is not the issue. The issue lies in resolving the pain.
Time moves ever forward and so must we. To stay in one spot too long is not a good thing. As the old folks would say, life goes on. It is my thinking we are becoming bogged down in thought and not taking action. That is the reason for the conflict in today's world. We like to talk, to discuss, to mull over every minute detail, when in fact we should just accept things at face value. Move on and get on with it. Learn from the past and go forward. Maybe that is all that is needed, a more pragmatic approach ! In today's terminology, maybe we just need to reboot. Couldn't hurt.
Little was spoken about Grandfather Horace other than the story of his passing. This is in keeping with an old adage my Mom repeats. It is not nice to speak ill of the dead. From most accounts Grandfather Horace had a few faults. I gather his human frailties got the better of him in life. It has only been in more recent years that I have heard any tales of him that were not negative. It is unfortunate that that should be so. Also it is sad that there is no one left that really knew him other than my Mom to tell the tale. She was the youngest of ten children and I'm certain the eldest child would have a different tale to tell. That always seems to be the case anyway. But in thinking about this tale and how Mom always told it I came to realize just how pragmatic Mom is. In fact in the old days I would have to say the majority of the people where that way. Today we have become a bit too idealist, don't you think ? We expect to much from others and from ourselves. With all our modern conveniences and technology things are getting a little too easy. The human spirit needs struggle and strife to nurture and nourish it. The will to go on requires exercise just the same as any other endeavor we undertake.
It would seem to me that we rely too much on resources from outside ourselves a bit too often. We are looking for help when there is no help. No one can mend your broken heart, no one else can bring your soul comfort. These things must come from within ourselves. Therapists and counselors can provide some guidance and instruction, but they are not the cure. The cure comes from you. Whether you draw that strength from your religious convictions or from a purely " logical " point of view is not the issue. The issue lies in resolving the pain.
Time moves ever forward and so must we. To stay in one spot too long is not a good thing. As the old folks would say, life goes on. It is my thinking we are becoming bogged down in thought and not taking action. That is the reason for the conflict in today's world. We like to talk, to discuss, to mull over every minute detail, when in fact we should just accept things at face value. Move on and get on with it. Learn from the past and go forward. Maybe that is all that is needed, a more pragmatic approach ! In today's terminology, maybe we just need to reboot. Couldn't hurt.
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