MY MOM THE STORYTELLER

It came across my Facebook page, a family photo taken fifteen years ago now, at our daughter Becky’s wedding. 

The setting was the dining room of the lovely Mountaintop Inn in Vermont where Becky was married.  The photo is lit perfectly by the deer antler chandelier positioned over a dinner table.  A dozen or so family and friends, including the bride, are sitting at, or standing behind, the round table laden with the remnants of coffee and wedding cake.  Everyone is smiling, some are on the verge of laughter – all eyes are on one person – my mom.

Mom, seated at the far left of the table, is dressed in a beige pants suit with a satin collar, her gray blond hair cut in a style that perfectly captures her natural waves.  Her face radiates enthusiasm, her hands out in front of her, gesturing madly.  This is one of the ways I will always remember my mom - when she slipped into her role as family storyteller. 

Practically everyone around the table had already heard this particular story.  We all knew what was coming, yet every face is lit with expectation for it!  For once, not a single person said, “Oh Gram, not that one again!”.   No, this time around, we all just let her tell it, and we listened, smiled and just enjoyed it, as if it were the first time she’d told it.  

Her story began on a cruise.  Dinner was over, and Mom was on her way to the next activity when she felt it – the rumblings of what we all affectionally call, “Kaden stomach”.  Mom was not originally a Kaden, but apparently this particular disorder can be passed to non-blood relatives – ask any of us.  Immediately, Mom thought, “I knew I shouldn’t have had that last cup of coffee.” 

Hoping (against hope) that those vague cramps would not amount to anything, she continued on her way.  But, nothing can stop “Kaden stomach”, there IS no cure.  The next time the cramps made themselves known, Mom knew she needed to find a bathroom – preferably an empty one - STAT! 

Rushing into the nearest bathroom, happily noting its emptiness, Mom pushes into the stall, undoes the button of her pants, sits down, and breathes a sigh of relief. 

Less than a minute passes when Mom hears someone enter the room.  The only sound she hears after is a pounding on the counter.  She’s puzzled, but busy, and ignores it.  The pounding begins again.  Now Mom, curious, speaks, “Are you okay?”, she asks.   No speaking, just more pounding.

“Do you need help?”, Mom says.  More pounding.  Well, there’s only one thing to do.  

With the speed of Superman changing out of his Clark Kent suit, Mom stands up, pants still around her ankles, and unlocks the stall door.  Peeking outside, she sees the woman, face turning blue, holding her neck and pounding on the counter.  Instantly coming to the right conclusion, that the woman is choking, Mom waddles out, gives her the Heimlich maneuver, waits till she expels what was choking her and waddles back into the bathroom.  The woman whispers an embarrassed thank you and disappears as fast as she can.

By now, everyone at the table is reeling with laughter, tears flowing, but Mom hasn’t finished.  As she gets to the end of her story, Mom's last line, which sets everyone off again, is the classic, “Imagine what people would have thought was happening if they had walked in on me at the moment I was helping that lady!”.  Imagine. . . .

We lost Mom just a few short years later, but not a one of us has forgotten her stories, or the way she made us all laugh when she told them.  We truly miss her.

ALASKA - THE MAJESTY OF GOD

Jim and I just returned from a trip to Alaska.  I’m still processing the beauty of that wonderful place.  Words like huge, splendid, majestic, serene, quiet and lonely, don’t begin to describe its vast landscape of snow-capped mountains, covered by Sitka spruce trees standing straight and tall, packed close, from the shoreline all the way up the mountainsides.  Nor could they describe Denali National Park – surrounded by mountain ranges, all covered in snow – with low valleys of willow and sparse, skinny black spruce – landscapes that bear, and caribou, moose, and ptarmigan – call home.  It was breathtaking, making us feel so small in comparison.

Then there were the whales – a pod of orcas gliding in and out of the water across the front of our tour boat.  And a humpback soaring as it breached the water, leaving a huge splash in its wake, and harbor seals resting on the shores of a fjord.

And the glaciers!  You know they’re coming when the water alongside your ship begins to dot with ice floes.  Jim and I had been watching them float by our side of the ship, unaware of what was just on the other side.  We decided to go upstairs to grab some lunch when there we saw it - Hubbard Glacier – right there, looming ahead of us, taking us totally by surprise!  We had no idea that it would be so BIG, stretch so far, or be so awe inspiring!  A towering ice floe, more than a mile thick, the height of a twenty five story building.  The only sound that could be heard (apart from the oohs and ahhs of passengers) was loud, booming, cracking noises caused by shifting ice.  Some, who happened to be there at the right time, were treated to what is called “calving”, when a piece of the glacier breaks off and falls into the water.  We were in awe.

Always I’m reminded, in the presence of such majesty, of the One who is the Author of ALL creation. 

Israel’s King David wrote in the Old Testament Psalm 19:

The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament shows His handiwork.  Day unto day, (they) utter speech, and night unto night reveal knowledge.  There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard.

If we have ears to listen, we can hear God speak through what He has made, to reveal Himself - His power, His love for creativity and uniqueness, His desire that we might know HIM.  Even the silence of a spruce forest, the serenity of a fjord untouched by humans, miles and miles of quiet waterways – are designed by Him to draw us closer and cause us to question, “Why am I here?”.

Then the Apostle Paul, speaking of Jesus, in his New Testament letter of Colossians, chapter 1, verses 15, 16a, 17:

He (Jesus) is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.  For by Him all things were created that are in heaven and that are on earth. . . All things were created through Him and for Him.

Paul says that Jesus, who is the eternal God the Son, was the agent of all that has been made.

The majesty of what we saw in Alaska is God’s own majesty, revealed in the splendor and glory of all He has made.  

We didn’t get to church to worship with our church family the whole two weeks we were gone – but recognizing God in all He has made – we surely worshipped Him.