FROM THE PASTOR
Summer Memories, Summer Sadness
Several years ago, I invited a colleague, an Evanston resident, to join the Windy City Miata Club cohort in the Evanston July 4th Parade. She had a great time breakfasting with club members before the Parade, helping to decorate the roadsters in red, white, and blue, and riding shotgun in the Parade, waving to the enthusiastic crowds which lined Central Street. When the day was over she thanked me, explaining that the summer holidays are always harder for her than Thanksgiving and Christmas.
I was surprised initially but quickly understood. For her growing up, the summer holidays were about family gatherings with her grandparents – her grandfather teaching her and her brother to fly-fish for trout and her grandmother preparing a spread of wonderful ethnic dishes. For me summer holidays were always family picnics hosted in our big backyard – aunts and uncles, cousins, grandparents and even a great-grandmother. It was volleyball and bean bags during the day. After dark the kids ran around playing “hide and seek” and scaring each other to death. The adults gathered around tables to play pinochle. (When I was older, I learned the card game playing with my grandmother and great-grandmother – and they played for blood.)
The picnics stopped years ago as my cousins grew up, married, and started their own traditions. My mother sold the house and moved into a senior community. My great-grandmother, grandparents, father, and most of my aunts and uncles have died. On Memorial Day, July 4th, and Labor Day I can recall great memories but also experience a bit of sadness.
Grief is a strange reality. It never ends. Grief simply transforms itself through years, often lying dormant until some experience triggers and calls it forth again. Sometimes grief is the gentle tug of sadness which comes with a treasured memory. At other times grief can wash over us like an overwhelming wave. Treasure the memories which keep your loved ones close at hand. Be patient and gentle with yourself when you find grief emerging when least expected.
Peace,
Pastor John E. Schumacher, BCC
