The Benefits of Nostalgia

My dad was born in 1899 and grew up in a Chicago that had dirt roads and wooden sidewalks. The women wore floor-length dresses, and ordinary folk didn’t own cars, telephones, or electric anything. Most people never traveled farther than the blocks of their own ethnic neighborhoods, and national election results were announced with fireworks.

My sister, brother, and I heard fascinating tales about Dad’s growing up years and hoped to preserve them for generations to come. Video cameras weren’t available in the early ’80’s, but we did have cassette players, so we decided to record his remembrances as we followed him to each of his childhood homes and neighborhoods, taking pictures along the way to accompany the tape. No one was more thrilled about this than him.

Years after Dad died, we did something similar with Mom, and today Mary and I talked about our own children, wondering if they’d be interested in preserving our histories as we had with our parents. This morning we decided to make a preliminary tour of the pertinent sights from our younger days, planning how we might organize the information. At each house from our pasts, we knocked on the door and walked around the property. No one was home.

Our last stop was Nate’s and my first house, beautifully maintained since we’d last lived there 37 years ago. The owner, working at home, answered our knock and, after hearing why we were interested, enthusiastically invited us in.

Although the house had been reconfigured in several minor ways, it was much the same. In the upstairs bathroom I recognized the tiny floor tiles and old toilet and tub. “High quality,” the man said. “No need to replace them.” I looked at the tub and remembered the early morning in 1973 when I sat on the edge of it trying to decide if I was in labor or not, and several hours later, we became parents.

As we walked through each room, old memories flooded my mind and Mary’s, too. The man seemed interested and asked us endless questions about the house. We left promising to send photos from the 1970’s and the original house listing.

Why is it so much fun to rehash the old days? Maybe it’s a validation of the path we’ve walked. Maybe it’s a longing to go back, to be young again. Or maybe it’s gratitude that we don’t have to.

As Mary and I talked between stops, we shared remembrances, some sweet, some bittersweet, and decided the best approach was to count the blessings rather than the sorrows. Part of that was identifying where God had interjected his influence and changed the course of events.

We talked of how he’d directed Dad’s and Mom’s lives, how he continued by guiding ours, and how he’s lovingly touching our children the same way. “And if you forget everything else,” God said, “remember that.”

Remember the former things, those of long ago; I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me.” (Isaiah 46:9)

Be prepared.

I loved being a Girl Scout. Our motto was: “Be prepared.” This meant we were always to be mentally and bodily ready to face difficulties or even danger by knowing what to do and when to do it.

In an effort to get properly prepared, our leaders encouraged us to earn badges to prove how prepared we actually were. They taught us to make a fire, understand food nutrition, know about leadership, learn water safety, and much more.

As we earned our badges, we accumulated knowledge, and in order to apply it, our leaders role-played with us, testing our responses to different hypotheticals. They figured if we practiced enough, when a moment of need arose, we’d automatically jump in to help in appropriate ways.

Role-playing is a practical way to learn, and most of us do it eagerly. For example, before a couple gets married, they often attend counseling together. The pastor or teacher describes marriage moments they’re bound to encounter and asks how each would respond. The resulting discussions point out potential problems.

Nate and I did plenty of role-playing as we prepared for marriage: “What if we don’t have children? What if we do? If we move away from family, how will we handle that?” We worked to trouble-shoot, hoping we wouldn’t have too many bumps in the adjustment road, once we were married. It was all part of getting prepared.

At the other end of our marriage, as empty nesters heading toward retirement, we role-played once again: “When is it best to retire? Then what? And should we move? If so, what’ll happen when our children and grandchildren visit? And will our money last through old age? Should we travel before we get too old?” We wanted to be prepared.

The thing we didn’t role-play was an “early” death for one of us. “What will your/my life look like, if you/I should die? How can we prepare for that?” Other than life insurance, we hadn’t even discussed it.

Subsequently, when we learned of Nate’s cancer, we huffed and puffed trying to prepare, but death caught up to us before we were ready. When it was all over and I was alone, I stood in my living room on a wintry night and thought, “Now what? I’m completely unprepared for this.”

But God, who’s always ready for everything, had a good answer. “Since you couldn’t prepare for what was coming next, I did it for you.”

And here’s what he’d prepared:

  1. my grieving process
  2. this blog to tend
  3. a book to write
  4. Birgitta and her baby to help

In hindsight I can see he had me ready, so I’m not going to worry about what numbers 5 or 6 will be. And if I’ve learned anything in the last few years, it’s that living within God’s preparedness is a better place to be than role-playing the unknown, all by myself.

 “I cry out to God Most High, to God who will fulfill his purpose for me.” (Psalm 57:2)

P&Q

When my younger brother was 7 years old, he was helping Mom wrap Christmas gifts when he said, “What can I get for Dad?”

“What he really wants,” Mom said, “is a little peace and quiet. Too bad you can’t give him some of that,” and she laughed.

But on Christmas morning, that’s what Tommy gave, and Dad opened a basketball-sized square box with a scrap of paper in the bottom that said, “In this box is peace and quiet.” It was a huge hit.

Most of us need a bit of P&Q every so often and suffer if we don’t get it. I marveled at my kids when they were in high school, simultaneously managing homework, music, snacking, and instant messaging. Maybe I’m using old age as an excuse, but lately I’m with Dad, appreciating peace and quiet.

Sometimes I worry about the years ahead. What about the physical chaos of old age that seems to keep peace and quiet at bay? Will I be able to think straight, much less produce anything during those years?

When I was a child of about 10, I had a dress made from fabric imprinted with artwork by a woman affectionately known as Grandma Moses. This hard-working farm wife bore 10 children and then began a painting career in her late 70’s, doing her best work in her 90’s. (Recently one of her paintings sold for $1.2 million.) She died at 101. When I worry about losing my powers of concentration, I think of her and hope I can do as well. Scripture tells me I can.

Anna, a temple prophetess, had a thriving ministry of prayer and fasting well into her 90’s (Luke 2), and Sarah, Abraham’s wife, delivered a baby and breastfed him at 91 (Genesis 21). Joshua and Caleb of Old Testament fame were as strong and energetic in their 80’s as in their 30’s (Joshua 14), and Moses retained good vision and high energy up until he died at 120 (Deuteronomy 34). I wonder if any of them said, “Lord, I can’t continue on without an environment of peace and quiet.”

These examples and others are included in the Bible for an important reason: to remind us that God is the one who empowers us to complete whatever task he assigns us to do, regardless of age or of having the perfect atmosphere of peace and quiet. When we’re physically spent or overwhelmed by a must-do job, we’re instructed to “trust in the Lord” for the energy we need (Isaiah 40).

But what about a little peace and quiet along the way? Would that be too much to ask? The truth is, God is more interested in the P&Q of our inner lives than what’s going on around us. Even when turmoil is swirling, he can provide peaceful quietness in the midst of it (at any age) and enough oomph to do whatever needs doing.  According to the Bible, old-age success is sure to come if we do one thing first: obey God. And he says if we do that, then we’ll “flourish in old age, remaining vital and green.” (Psalm 92)

“My flesh and my heart may fail; But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Psalm 73:26)