January 2022
During my lifetime, several days in January have played a significant part in my life: births have brought joy and hope; deaths have brought sadness and loss all in one month.
On January 3rd, a great grandson, who is an outstanding athlete and lives in Farmington, Arkansas, became 13. He is our granddaughter’s first born and she is having trouble accepting that she has a child that old; plus she also wonders if she can deal with an adolescent. On January 5th, a great grandson, who lives in South Bend, Indiana, celebrated being 6. No doubt, you will believe me as his great grandmother when I write that he is precocious, bright and extremely intelligent. His parents just sent me a neat picture of him wearing a mask and proudly holding his certificate for receiving a vaccine shot to avoid the COVID.
On January 9th, a grandson who lives in Greenville, Wisconsin, turned 37. Of our eight grandchildren, this one had changed the most since he was young. As a teenager, he followed rock-and-roll group all over the country; now he has a complicated computer job and is the father of a beautiful little girl. One January 26, our youngest child, living kitty-corner from me, will be 64. He went to a “far county” when he was young. But he came home, went to seminary and now serves the Christian Church in Chesterfield as pastor (also he and his wife look after me).
On January 24, 1956, my younger and only brother literally dropped dead in high school. He was singing in his glee club class, coughed a couple of times and was gone. We lived in Indiana at that time and I never learned if there was an autopsy. My mom couldn’t remember if she said “Goodbye” to him that morning.
“They” say we are fortunate if we have one true friend in this life. God blessed me with a “soul sister” friend who knew me well, and still accepted and trusted me. She was killed in a head-on collision on January 26, 2017. I still miss her.
On January 29, 1999, my husband died. He had inherited the family weakness for diabetes. He learned he was diabetic June 6, 1958. And he was insulin dependent for forty-one years, but he was not the best patient and the diabetes completely wracked his body before it took him. I have always believed him to be the happiest person I ever met. He decided when he was a teenager that he wanted to be a minister and spent his entire adult life preaching. He had a strong faith, loved his job and felt real affection for people. I still miss him, but he was not going to get any better. So as a friend said, “He is probably putting on those heavenly greens.” I like to think of him that way. When I get to the last week in January, I realize again that growing older means accepting loss. Our family members and friends leave us. Yet we have great memories that fill our days.
Over the years, what has happened to me in the month of January -births and deaths -really illustrates the life we all share: we celebrate new life when a baby is born and mourn for our loved ones when they pass away.