Part 2: The Value of a Sewing Box

I knew when I wrote part one of this blog last week, that there was a part two someplace in Grandma’s sewing box.  I didn’t really know what it was, but I knew there were so many jewels hidden there, that one more was meant to be shared.  Surprisingly, I believe it’s a letter from me to Grandma. 

Earlier this week, our son, Ty, sent me an email asking some peculiar questions.  He is taking a genetics class and he asked me to answer the following questions:  Do you have: 1) a hanging or attached earlobe, 2) a hitchhiker’s thumb, 3) a widow’s peak, and 4) can you roll your tongue?  I answered back, “no, yes, no, yes and here’s another one for you Ty . . . do you have Grandma’s little toenails?”  

Grandma had a very strange little toenail on both of her feet which she hated.  It didn't really look like a regular toenail but rather it was thick and grew more in thickness than in length.  She hated it.  She thought it was ugly and one time when I was a little girl, she pointed out to me that I have it too. It’s hard to explain but if you are a Wyant who has it, you know it.  Try packing these little babies around for a pedicure.  I actually had a pedicurist refuse to do a pedicure on my poor little toes one time.  She willingly did the other eight but kept pointing toward my little toes in a rather exasperated state as if she was looking at a monster or something, saying, “No, no toenail.” Of course I argued with her but she refused and I finally had to take the bottle of fingernail polish and slap it on them myself.  No tip for you sweetie! 

The hands of some Wyant Women

So what part does genetics play with being a Wyant or any other flavor of family?  There really is so much more to learn about than just the shared DNA that flows through our veins. There are also things that were learned within the confines of the Wyant family that we all see remnants of today in our lives – characteristics that were nurtured in the environment of the home in the Beech Hills and sent out to the homes in Washington, Vincennes, New Mexico, Colorado, Danville, and Kentucky and on into the many places that the grandchildren live today.  For example, how many Wyant men tear up with a sentimental thought – Grandpa Wyant.  How many Wyant women wake up in the middle of the night, worrying about one of their kids or another family member – Grandma Wyant. How much of that is DNA and how much of that is environmental?  I don’t really know and scientists still fight over the balance between nature and nurture, but I know both contribute and are important to the answer of “who are you?”

One of the things I learned from Grandma was to write letters and cards and notes to people when you are thinking of them. Sadly, I don’t do such a great job of it anymore – it might be a phone call, or a text, or an email – but I do still try to do it.  As I’ve done this over the years toward people who have been kind to me, touched my heart, or have had an influence in my life, I’ve never regretted it when that person passed away.  It has always brought me comfort to know that I told them how important they were to me and they added something to my life.  Isn’t that what being a human being is all about – the way we collide and mix and bring value and positive elements to the lives of others? Or as Ralph Waldo Emerson says in one of my favorite quotes, “to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.”

That’s not to say that at times we don’t bring negativity into each other’s lives with our problems and disagreements.  This is the part that is sometimes very hard to bear.  This is the part that sometimes keeps the Wyant women up at night – we worry about the welfare of our friends, acquaintances, but most of all our children.  I cannot tell you how many times I woke up in the middle of the night when my kids were teenagers and young adults and my prayer was “Dear Jesus, just keep them safe from harm until their frontal cortexes close up and that impulse control kicks in.” (Note: Scientists say that the frontal cortex, which is where impulse control is located, is the last part of a child’s brain to develop. Hold on . . . it typically doesn’t reach full development until about age 25!) Sometimes all you can do is pray and yell at them in the morning about how much they are keeping you awake at night.  In Ruth’s essay, she referred to this as Grandma working “the hoot owl shift.” The point is that Grandma woke up in the middle of the night throughout her life worrying about a wide variety of people and I’m pretty confident that she either took action with her worry by praying or writing letters. 

I must have received a letter from Grandma in the summer of 1974 where she told me of her concern for someone in the family.  That letter is gone, but she saved the letter I wrote to her in response and it came back to me after she died.  It reads:

July 19^th, 1974

Dear Grandma,

After reading your letter, telling you how much I love you seems so insignificant. I don’t know if you realize how much you mean to me, and I’m sure you mean more to me than I even realize.  I thank God for my beautiful, beautiful Grandmother who has always shown me Jesus in her life.  Grandma, I share your burden for your children, I want to carry the whole thing for you.  I don’t like to see your heart so heavy but then I guess you wouldn’t be the person you are if you never showed concern. You’re in my prayers.  I’ve prayed for strength and love and openness to our Lord for you.

I was thinking today about how I wished I could go back to when I was little.  The visions I have of our family are so beautiful.  Our family get-togethers were so important to me. I hate the part of growing up that takes you away from your family.  I’ve been thanking God over and over again for the growth and maturity He is giving me but today after reading your letter, I longed for my childhood days so much.  Days when everything was beautiful and there were no dark clouds in my sunshine world.  But God has promised strength to withstand anything, hope for tomorrow and love forever.  There’s so much beauty in that. I really long for our whole family to be one in Christ.  I don’t want us to be a family just by our blood but by Jesus’ blood.  That’s my prayer.

Grandma, thank you for everything you’ve meant to me over the years. You’re so precious and dear to my heart.  The wisdom, guidance, and love that you have shown me can never be repaid.  I want you to know that it’s only through Jesus that I can love and appreciate you the way I do.  His love is never ending!  Stay strong in Him and keep drawing from His fountains.

Love, your granddaughter,

Melinda

P.S. Read Psalms 61

I have no recollection of what was so heavy on Grandma’s heart in July of 1974 but I’m sure I learned how important it is to share the burdens of others from this Godly woman.  Looking back, I can’t even imagine that a 20-year-old girl would have had any solid wisdom to share with her 66-year-old Grandmother but she at the very least knew how much she had helped shape my life and for this I am so thankful. What an amazing family heritage was laid down, genetically and environmentally, with Walb and Bertie and what a responsibility we all have to carry it on wherever we plant our families and our daily lives.

I have the honor and privilege of seeing inside the families of so many children through my job as a counselor.  There is a quote hanging in my office that says “what families have in common the world around is that they are the place where people learn who they are and how to be that way.”  In some families this is a positive and nurturing place where children grow up to repeat the same experience for their own children.  And sadly, in others, the negative cycle continues and some of those families end up at my office door. Every time I find myself in the middle of a family that seems to have no rudder, I have the opportunity to share my professional expertise, my family experience, and my faith, (yes even in a public school).  But an added perk is that I get to spread the seeds that were planted in the Beech Hills – seeds like burden-sharing and the fruits of the spirit - love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control – to people who have no idea where the Beech Hills are.

The beautiful view from the Hamline Chapel cemetary

We all have this duty – within our own families and within our communities.  One of my father’s favorite Bible verses that he quoted to me over the years that really stuck is from Luke, “to whom much is given, much is required.” If I heard this once, I heard it a thousand times.  We are accountable for the knowledge, resources, and abilities that God and family have blessed us with.  If we use it wisely through the help of God, we will be blessed and we will bless others.  And sometimes, when we are carrying burdens like Grandma was carrying in the summer of 1974, we have to seek refuge in the “rock that is higher than I” (Psalm 61).  I’m almost embarrassed that I told my sainted Grandmother to read a Psalm when I was only 20-years-old and knew virtually nothing about the world . . . but considering some of the burdens that I’m currently carrying; perhaps it was more intended for my older self in some odd way.  I find it intriguing that all these years later, a sewing box which is intended to mend and repair, is reaching out and mending me.

Hear my cry, O God;

listen to my prayer.

From the end of the earth I call to you,

when my heart is faint.

Lead me to the rock that is higher than I;

for you are my refuge,

a strong tower against the enemy.

Let me abide in your tent forever,

find refuge under the shelter of your wings.

For you, O God, have heard my vows;

you have given me the heritage of those who fear your name.

Prolong the life of the king;

may his years endure to all generations!

May he be enthroned forever before God;

appoint the steadfast love and faithfulness to watch over him!

So I will always sing praises to your name,

as I pay my vows day after day.  (Psalm 61)

Dear Wyants - Even though miles separate us all, let’s not be faint in our love for each other and our common roots.  None of our families are perfect or without sorrow or burdens, but just like the original Wyants, we have all been richly supplied with the tools to “get through it,” I’m certain of that. Even though some of us know little of the real details, joys, and sorrows of each other’s lives and have grown up and apart in many ways, let’s keep each other perennially in our prayers and uplift each other in times of need, even when we might not even know what the need is.  This is the Wyant family.  This is laid down in each of us if we only remember to honor it. 

Aunt Diane .  .  . you are your mother’s daughter and each time we talk, her love shines through you and I am touched by your tenderness and care and genuine concern for others. 

Uncle Duane . . . each time I hear your voice wobble on the phone, I know Grandpa lives on in the tears that are welling up in your eyes and I might as well be sitting on his knee messing up his hair. I just want to reach through the phone and kiss your beautiful bald head (after I rip the wig off – ha)

Aunt Cherry . . . you are the consummate combination of a Wyant girl and a Wyant boy.  You can tell a story as well as the boys and  all the while embody the sweet spirit and heart of the Wyant women. I love hearing from you each day even if it’s only on Facebook.

 

Daddy (and mother) . . . there really are no words left to say except I love you and you will forever live in my heart.

Cousin Christopher . . . whatever would I do without you?  Your encouragement, your love, your gentle-giant spirit, your wisdom, your heart that is bigger than the world . . . if my little grandson, your namesake, embodies just a part of your being, I will be so thankful.

The remaining children of Walbert and Alberta Wyant prior to 2012

Diane, Duane, Dick and Denny

Reunion 2004

Reunion 2012

The Brent Wyant Family: Mallory, Brent, and Cindy

Uncle Denny and Cousin Christopher Wyant

Cindy Wyant and Lisa Wyant Arbaugh

Dick Wyant remembering the Wyants who have passed away

The Arbaugh family is gaining members!

Beautiful Wyant Women:  Terri, Cindy, Michelle, Melinda, Lisa (mother of the bride) and the most recent Lisa Wyant

Sue Ann, Aunt Cherry, and Rhonda

Some competitive Wyant men

Tyson Wyant as President

President Levi Wyant and Treasurer Brad Wyant

And the beat goes on with more grands . . .

Brad and the youngest Brittany

Greg and Amelie with Christopher

Rhonda and Patrick's family - this is one full transportation vehicle!

Thank you to all of the Wyant family members who have made it easier for me to "breath" in this world simply because you have been and are part of my life.