Fun stuff! This is some family history that my oldest daughter wrote about on her Facebook this week...
Sometimes, life actually gets to be like one of those Paul Harvey broadcasts: "and now you know...the rest of the story! Just keep your eyes peeled for about 25 years, and all of those boring little details add up to something interesting, after all.
This past summer, the Hobbits and I had occasion to stay overnight at "Grandmama" Dorothy Lanz's house. (I call them Hobbits because they are all shorties who like to eat. Rachael dubbed them the 'Horde of Ravenous Dwarves' after we were discussing holiday "snacks" and while she suggested crackers and cheese, I thought that pots of chili and a baked potato bar would be more apropos. Okay, okay: her descriptor is probably more accurate).
So while we were at Grandmama's house this summer, something very, very mundane, indeed, happened: someone took forever in the bathroom, leaving me standing around waiting. And so I wandered in circles (not too far from the bathroom door, mind you, lest someone sneak in and swindle me of my turn), observing the million or so photos and mementos posted wall-to-wall throughout the house.
Grandmama and Papa were married in the 1950's so there's a lot of family history to see. But one thing caught my attention: a pink-and-blue, cross-stitch picture which my mom had made. I hadn't seen it in awhile, and for some reason, I decided that I needed a photo so I could study it later.
The cross-stitch picture said, "Grandchildren hold our hands for awhile... our hearts forever," and it had a border of hearts, flowers and bluebirds around it. Pretty typical, early-1990's stuff, but it took me back to when I was eight years old, watching my mom sort her floss colors and put together her frame for working on the Aida cloth.
I remember Dad coming home from the office, loosening his necktie. (It was probably a brown necktie in a diagonal stripe pattern, because that's the only necktie I ever remember him wearing for the entirety of my early childhood. We were probably too broke to buy him another one. That, or the other ties were such hideous representatives of the 1980s that I have barred them from my memory in self-preservation. That's a possibility, too).
Mom popped up from the old, beige-yellow recliner, excitedly explaining her latest (possibly crazy) project to him. “Look, Ethan! I'm making this for your mom and dad. It has a verse about grandparents and there are hearts all the way around the edge! I’m going to add the names of all the grandkids under each of the hearts.”
Dad surveyed the pattern for awhile.
“That’s a lot of hearts…” he commented.
“Well…! I’m going to add Niki’s kids, too. It won’t be just ours.”
Dad weighed this reply, and after awhile offered: “My sister only has three kids…”
“Well..." Mom was tabulating an argument, clearly making it up off the top of her head: "Well maybe there will be more kids! YOU don’t know. Maybe there will just be extra hearts on there or something, I don’t want to change the pattern. It’s fine this way.” (In hindsight, I'm certain that she was plotting Hannah).
Dad seemed to decide that it wasn’t worth arguing about and left Mom to merrily make her little X’s until Christmas, at which time the grandparents received their present and there were probably more comments about the number of hearts around the border.
My aunt and uncle declared they were done. But they surprised everyone when, several years later, they adopted Mark from the Bolivian orphanage where my aunt was working.
My parents had two more bio kids, and then it seemed that the family was complete. Until a decade passed and the Tailgate (a.k.a. Tikvah) arrived, and they turned it into an entire Tailgate Party with three more kids from China. They were saying that they thought there was one more child out there they would find sometime later. Over the summer though, mere weeks after returning from China, Mom and Dad announced that they had met a little boy named Pat, a little boy who had been raised with two of their other children, a little boy who was practically their brother already, whom they would be adding to the family.
At some point, it hit me that I had been studying that “Grandchildren” cross-stitch picture only perhaps five weeks prior to the "Pat Announcement." Amazed at my oblivious foresight, I went to dig out that crookedy snapshot I'd forgotten all about, and started counting the hearts in that cross-stitched border.
Sixteen.
Sixteen hearts. Four Elliott cousins…and Pat makes twelve on the Lanz side. Sixteen grandchildren for Niki and Ethan’s generation: 9 bio kids and 7 adoptions. When Mom made this thing, there were seven grandchildren, total, in the family. Who would have thought?
“That’s a lot of hearts, Randi…”
Sometimes, life actually gets to be like one of those Paul Harvey broadcasts: "and now you know...the rest of the story! Just keep your eyes peeled for about 25 years, and all of those boring little details add up to something interesting, after all.
This past summer, the Hobbits and I had occasion to stay overnight at "Grandmama" Dorothy Lanz's house. (I call them Hobbits because they are all shorties who like to eat. Rachael dubbed them the 'Horde of Ravenous Dwarves' after we were discussing holiday "snacks" and while she suggested crackers and cheese, I thought that pots of chili and a baked potato bar would be more apropos. Okay, okay: her descriptor is probably more accurate).
So while we were at Grandmama's house this summer, something very, very mundane, indeed, happened: someone took forever in the bathroom, leaving me standing around waiting. And so I wandered in circles (not too far from the bathroom door, mind you, lest someone sneak in and swindle me of my turn), observing the million or so photos and mementos posted wall-to-wall throughout the house.
Grandmama and Papa were married in the 1950's so there's a lot of family history to see. But one thing caught my attention: a pink-and-blue, cross-stitch picture which my mom had made. I hadn't seen it in awhile, and for some reason, I decided that I needed a photo so I could study it later.
The cross-stitch picture said, "Grandchildren hold our hands for awhile... our hearts forever," and it had a border of hearts, flowers and bluebirds around it. Pretty typical, early-1990's stuff, but it took me back to when I was eight years old, watching my mom sort her floss colors and put together her frame for working on the Aida cloth.
I remember Dad coming home from the office, loosening his necktie. (It was probably a brown necktie in a diagonal stripe pattern, because that's the only necktie I ever remember him wearing for the entirety of my early childhood. We were probably too broke to buy him another one. That, or the other ties were such hideous representatives of the 1980s that I have barred them from my memory in self-preservation. That's a possibility, too).
Mom popped up from the old, beige-yellow recliner, excitedly explaining her latest (possibly crazy) project to him. “Look, Ethan! I'm making this for your mom and dad. It has a verse about grandparents and there are hearts all the way around the edge! I’m going to add the names of all the grandkids under each of the hearts.”
Dad surveyed the pattern for awhile.
“That’s a lot of hearts…” he commented.
“Well…! I’m going to add Niki’s kids, too. It won’t be just ours.”
Dad weighed this reply, and after awhile offered: “My sister only has three kids…”
“Well..." Mom was tabulating an argument, clearly making it up off the top of her head: "Well maybe there will be more kids! YOU don’t know. Maybe there will just be extra hearts on there or something, I don’t want to change the pattern. It’s fine this way.” (In hindsight, I'm certain that she was plotting Hannah).
Dad seemed to decide that it wasn’t worth arguing about and left Mom to merrily make her little X’s until Christmas, at which time the grandparents received their present and there were probably more comments about the number of hearts around the border.
My aunt and uncle declared they were done. But they surprised everyone when, several years later, they adopted Mark from the Bolivian orphanage where my aunt was working.
My parents had two more bio kids, and then it seemed that the family was complete. Until a decade passed and the Tailgate (a.k.a. Tikvah) arrived, and they turned it into an entire Tailgate Party with three more kids from China. They were saying that they thought there was one more child out there they would find sometime later. Over the summer though, mere weeks after returning from China, Mom and Dad announced that they had met a little boy named Pat, a little boy who had been raised with two of their other children, a little boy who was practically their brother already, whom they would be adding to the family.
At some point, it hit me that I had been studying that “Grandchildren” cross-stitch picture only perhaps five weeks prior to the "Pat Announcement." Amazed at my oblivious foresight, I went to dig out that crookedy snapshot I'd forgotten all about, and started counting the hearts in that cross-stitched border.
Sixteen.
Sixteen hearts. Four Elliott cousins…and Pat makes twelve on the Lanz side. Sixteen grandchildren for Niki and Ethan’s generation: 9 bio kids and 7 adoptions. When Mom made this thing, there were seven grandchildren, total, in the family. Who would have thought?
“That’s a lot of hearts, Randi…”
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