Two Cardinals

I saw two cardinals today. I was making my usual morning cup of coffee and casually staring out the window when I saw them in the tree looking inside my dining room. I don’t remember where I read it, but at some point, I heard that when you see a cardinal, it means someone you’ve lost is visiting you from Heaven to check in and make sure everyone is alright. I always liked that idea. Made me feel as though, no matter how long ago someone had passed, they could always check in on me from time to time.

I’m a big fan of tests like EverlyWell and 23&me. I think it’s fascinating how science can be so accessible now. For my birthday this year, my husband got me a 23&me kit. I got the results just a few weeks ago, and it was fascinating how in-depth they can track your heritage and ancestry. I had asked my mom for some information on my grandparents. She opted to send me 3 boxes of material related to them that I received last night.

I haven’t gone through all of it. Still, I did spend some time going through one of the boxes, which just happened to be primarily made up of sympathy cards received when my grandmother passed away. I am a laissez-faire believer in fate and destiny. Still, it is interesting the timing of the arrival of these boxes. My grandmother would’ve been 108 years old today.

Some of the sympathy cards were generic in nature, although that’s not to say they weren’t filled with heartfelt condolences. A fair amount had lengthy notes in them, primarily written in cursive, which is honestly the most conducive of scripts to use to convey emotion. The theme was the same in every note. Grandma touched the lives of many with her keen wit, friendly sense of humor, and her genuine care for others. She was known as a faithful woman, the brightness of any room, and just plain fun.

My daughter is named after my grandmother. Most of you know her as Vikki, but her first name is Kathryn, after Grandma. I was very close with both my Grandma and Grandpa. I have so many unforgettable memories of them both. One of the sympathy cards I read last night was from the family that had purchased my grandparent’s home in North Platte, Nebraska. Let’s take a minute to ruminate on that. How many would know how to get a hold of the family that owned the home previously and would write a sympathy card? Anyway, they wrote about how they think about my grandparents most when they are in the garden. Reading the card took me back to that home. I spent many Christmas’ and summers there. I thought Grandma had the most fabulous kitchen when I was a kid. It was small but seemed very bright to me, and its size didn’t preclude everyone in the house from congregating in it. I was introduced to dipping scallions in salt and eating them in that kitchen. She even had these little glass containers for the salt that I’ve never seen anywhere else. I remember eating copious cookies during Christmas in that kitchen and watching Grandpa working the garden from the back door in the summer.

They had the kind of house that was kind of cold but extremely hot in front of the floor vents in the winter. If we weren’t playing cards in the evenings, the women would take their places in front of their preferred vent to stay warm, standing and swaying back and forth, all while solving the world’s problems at increasingly louder decibels. My family likes to agree with each other loudly so as to make sure the neighborhood is aware of our mutual agreements.

Even though they didn’t have much, they had more than most in the things that actually count. There was always a lot of laughter in that house and playful ribbing. I used to think it was something that our family just did, but as I’ve gotten older, I know it was my Grandparents and that generation that brought that to our lives.

My son is named after my grandpa. You all know him as Wyatt, but his first name is Robert. My grandpa wasn’t much of a talker even before his stroke. But he was still the type of guy you wanted to be around and that you wanted to make sure respected you. So my son started saying this past month in reply to questions asking if he likes this or that with a choppy, “You bet, it’s pretty good.” My grandpa used to say that, especially after his stroke. So perhaps it’s nothing, but I like to think it’s grandpa sending some love through Wyatt.

My grandparents met on a blind date. I believe the story goes that Grandpa told Grandma that he thought she’d be younger, to which she quickly replied she thought he’d be taller and with more hair. When he would write to her during the war, he would sign his notes “Curly” because that’s the kind of people they were.

Things have changed a lot since they left us, both in our family and in the world. I don’t think Grandma and Grandpa would be happy with a lot of it, and I think they would be a little sad. We as a society aren’t as good at life, I guess, as my grandparent’s generation was. Sure we have more accessibility to things, more rights, and in general, just more of things. But what we have less of is what is most noticeable. We are less intelligent and curious. We are less funny and kind. We aren’t nearly as thick-skinned and positive. We aren’t as forgiving and faithful.

I think Grandma and Grandpa came by this morning to check on us. Probably to see their great-grandchildren. If I could, I would tell you both that I try my best to live a life you’d both be proud of. I’m sure I have fallen short at times, but I think you’d be proud of me. I would tell you that you’d like my husband. He’s kind and artistic; he helps me see the world just a little better than I see it at first glance sometimes. He makes me laugh every day and drives me crazy every day, too…something I’m sure you are both familiar with in each other. I would tell you that your namesakes are amazing little monsters that make everyone they meet happier and more hopeful. We are trying our best to raise them to be intelligent, curious, funny, kind, thick-skinned, positive, forgiving, and faithful.

I would tell you that I sure do miss you both and think about you, and I know everyone else does too. My brother and I were lucky to have grandparents like you. Finally, I would tell you thank you. Thank you for checking in on us this morning. Don’t be strangers; feel free to fly to the nearest tree to check in on your great-grandkids anytime you want Grandma and Grandpa. Don’t get into too much trouble in Heaven, and make sure you teach everyone how to play Shanghai the right way. We love you both and know that someday we will see you again.