When his grandmother passed away in 2011, some of the things my husband wanted to keep as mementos were her diaries.
Mimi was a faithful historian. She kept her family history in a series of journals that are treasures; snapshots of both the extraordinary and daily-ness of her life. Mimi lived in such a fascinating time period, I think. Part of the Greatest Generation, she learned at a young age to make do and make over; to cherish life and family and faith.
Born into a family of nine children, at least three of her brothers served in some capacity in the armed forces. Black and white snapshots of Eldon, Winston and Keith in uniform captured the hope and something of the invincibility that I think young soldiers are gifted with. Mimi told me her mother once said in early 1942, “Oh, my boys! To think I had my boys for war.” What Momma’s heart doesn’t respond to that cry…a derivative of Rachel weeping for her children?
A few days ago I came across a book Mimi gave to me soon after we were married. The book was a favorite of hers and has her own notes written in the margins. Some of what it contains are poems of Emily Dickinson.
I can never quite decide if I like Emily’s poetry…or if it just fascinates. It’s definitely something you have to take in small doses, or at least I do. There’s beauty in so much of it, but a lot of melancholy runs through it, as well. It always makes me want to travel back to Amherst of the 1860’s and 70’s, open the doors of the Homestead and give her a little shove. While it’s true that she faced loss and sadness, surely it’s also true that the life and sunshine beyond Emily’s front door – things that she quite deliberately seemed to shut herself in from – might have eased some of her self-imposed loneliness. Maybe her writing would have reflected a little more joy; a little more hope.
In any case, Emily is considered one of the best known and best loved poets of American literature. And most of her writing was discovered after her death! Isn’t it the neatest thing that her influence has outlived her by over a century? Her poems make you think and some of them make you wonder. I love that we can access the thoughts of people from far away by reading what they wrote. It makes for connection and I’m all for that.
You know, the influence of my life will never reach that of an Emily Dickinson, or any of the great heros of the Second World War – those men and women whose names were featured in Mimi’s journals as she chronicled the historic days she was living through. It’s much more likely that my life will be like that of most of us…one that reaches and influences a much smaller circle.
But I think that’s ok!
History has its stars…and some deservedly are remembered and revered long after they’ve made their mark and are “gathered to their fathers” as King James so eloquently puts it.
But I don’t ask to shine that brightly… my circle of influence will be those who have shared a very specific frame of time with me.
Like Mimi, my childhood days were spent in small towns and in wide, country spaces. And also like her, I have journals filled with memories of school days and then university, career, marriage and motherhood. Looking back, I’m sure I’ve been in contact with hundreds and thousands of people…and so have you. In some cases our influence has been the matter of a second; in others it’s been the work of years, and in some really sweet ones, it’s been that of a lifetime.
I think it’s important that those we have the opportunity to influence know us well. They need to see us in good times – when we look good and sound good and are good. They need to see us when we struggle and look for answers and get frustrated and feel unsure. I’m a huge believer in leaving the mark of my own individuality with the people I meet, even though that’s a vulnerable business. I want them to know what I think about things and what makes me who I am. And I want to know these things about them!
When Mimi came up in conversation the other day, it led several of my family members to reflect on who we remember generationally. Which family members or friends have made the biggest impact on us? The realization that our lives are lived around a finite number of people with a finite amount of time made us think about who WE are influencing and what that should look like in the grand scheme of things. Our daughter’s darling baby is just 4 months old…and when she grows up, will her children know us? Or know us well?
That really bothered me for about half a minute…is my sphere of influence really going to fade so fast?
Maybe so.
Probably so.
We don’t live forever…and of course at some point the people who come after us won’t know us. I don’t remember MY great- grandmother; why should I expect things to be different for me on the other end of the spectrum?
In any case, I decided not to let it bother me. Who cares? We all have our days in the sun and it’s up to us to make the most of them. The people who won’t remember me will themselves face the same scenario when it’s their turn. As Tolkien said…”All we have to do is decide what to do with the time given us.” That’s what I’m responsible for and so I had better be all about making whatever difference I can, wherever I can. And if you believe like I do, any good impact you make here may fade here, but we can live free from concerning ourselves with that aspect of our lives. God has all of it in His safe-keeping. The beauty of it will have its own resurrection someday.
Those words of Tolkien are good ones to live by, don’t you think? The best thing I can do for the generations that follow is to live a life that my friends and family and acquaintances find faithful. My influence will bear fruit in one of two ways…for good or harm. (I suppose there’s a third possibly, that of being indifferent, but that’s a waste and I don’t want to consider that an option.)
Any good I pour into the life of another will (I hope!) be passed forward.
My family and friends should be able to look at me and know what kind of a person I am by how I live authentically in front of them. And that means taking a stand, saying hard things, hearing hard things and working hard against the weakness I see in myself. It means being deliberate about relationships and letting someone else help shape you in ways you could never accomplish on your own.
Growth like that doesn’t just happen by accident; it has to be intentional and what works for one person may not work for another. Something tangible that helps me is a little exercise a college professor told me about years ago and it’s something that my husband and I have put it into practice. Every once in awhile, we go out to dinner and have a pretty serious conversation about “us”. We agree to be honest about the tough stuff; maybe something that bugs us about the other person, or maybe just a characteristic that holds us back or needs a bit of smoothing over. Then, we also promise to finish the conversation up by communicating good things about each other…things that we know we could never find duplicated in someone else.
Man. Let me tell you, those conversations are not for the faint of heart. But they’re good!!
I have to be willing to hear hard things about myself while keeping a few things in mind: First, not to take offense when I hear truth (hard to do!). Second, to resist the temptation to defend myself before I hear very plainly every piece of evidence that lends validity to what I’m hearing my guy tell me (even harder for me to do!). And finally, to understand that situations that look one way to me may look completely different to him.
Then, I have to be willing to say hard things…not to wound or blame, but to explain. And he has to be willing to listen just like I did.
We do this fun little exercise in a restaurant full of people to ensure that we don’t end up killing each other.
I.am.kidding.
We actually do this in a restaurant full of people because it takes these hard conversations out of the home we’ve built together and puts them out where we can easily talk, yet also easily remember that there’s a whole world of other people who are finding their way through their own unique relationship goals and growth. There’s a lot of hope in that…a lot of community and reminders of the common life that we share…just because you, me and anybody else reading this are all alive right here, right now.
And every single one of us is mucking through something, right?
These dinners aren’t all negative, of course, and we get the difficult stuff out of the way first. Wrapping the conversation up with the things we like best about each other sort of takes the sting out of the first half of the evening.
And the good this does in refining reaches beyond just our relationship…the affects ripple out to other people within our circle, too.
As I think about all of this, I’m learning a few things that perhaps you only learn over time. Things about telling your story so that others can learn from it, actively listening and seeking people out who help you grow and who sharpen and mold you into someone better and kinder, so that your circle of impact grows too, not necessarily wider, but hopefully deeper.
And the only way I know to do this is to let people you trust in and then live what you learn out.
I guess at the end of the day, all this goes to show that who I am and who I will be is a progression…and you are a progression, too. And as I think about the kind of impact I want to make – during this very specific time, with the very specific people I get to share it with, I’m reminded of one of the more hopeful things that Emily wrote all those years ago:
Oh, my goodness…do we ever, friends!! And we chronicle our lives…some of us in poems, some of us in journals, others in acts of bravery and sacrifice. But all of us in the way we interact with each other….the possibilities of who we become and who we help others become.
Here’s to more of that kind of living.