101 and 1/4 Years

I have a little boy who is obsessed with WWII war planes.

Most specifically the B-17 Bomber that his

Great Grandfather flew 52 missions in and came home alive.

So when I heard that some of the WWII planes were coming to a little local airport,

I knew we had to go.

 



The roar of the planes coming in was awesome and getting to crawl around inside them was even more awesome!
 

But then this happened.
 

A woman pushed a man in a wheelchair over to one of the planes and I overheard her say, "I'm so upset that I didn't bring my camera."

I walked over to her and offered to take some pictures for her and e-mail them to her.

"I don't have e-mail."

"I can text them to you, do you have testing on your phone?"

"Yes," she said, although she didn't have a phone with her!

It was a moment not to miss because she was there with her 101 and 1/4 years old husband!  He dispatched these planes from their manufacturing plant in Michigan during the war. 

John McClellen, nick name "Mac."

I ran and got my little Mack out of the B-17 and told him he must meet this very special man,

 a once in a life time experience.

 

We sat and talked and listened to this incredible man for quite some time.

We heard all about life stateside during the war.

We heard about the precise inspection of the planes that left the US for Europe. 

We heard about his amazing 100th birthday party and letters from Presidents.

We even heard about his experience carrying the Olympic torch in Utah!

101 years old, and a quarter! 

Pretty incredible. 

Then he took the hand of his young bride and said,

"these, right now, are the best years of my life," and he kissed her hand.

That really hit me.

Of all the years he's lived and all the incredible things he had accomplished,

this moment, right now, was his highlight.

I think that is the secret to his long and happy life.

His present moment is his best.

Be present in this moment and make it the best moment of your life!

 

Grateful Not Guilty

"Grammie, do I add water to this?  Should I put in more pepper?"

"No, everyone can do their own."

"Grammie, do I do the next potato?"

"Yes, do them all."

"Who's being so kind and nice over there? Is that little Georgia?  I'm so impressed by you."

The sweet conversations of a morning kitchen where my little girls are allowed to help in ways that I'd never entertain.  Frankly, it's too much work.  And I worry about them cutting he selves or getting burned.  And I love to cook and I'd just rather do it myself.  But not here.  Here they get to do all sorts of things without someone hurrying them or yelling at them or telling them, "oh, just let Moma do it."

Here they learn, they are encouraged and they are praised.

                   

                       

                       

                        

                        

                         

I used to feel guilty when my girls were little and my mom would come visit and play with them in ways I never did.  As they got older, she'd let them do all sorts of things that I never would.  Cooking, painting, picking flowers, filling bird feeders... And I'd feel guilty about that too.

Today as I sat and listened to the dialogue between my girls and their Grandmother in the kitchen, I didn't feel guilty, but grateful.  Grateful that their Grandmother is patient with them, finds the good in them and empowers them to be more.  I don't need to feel guilty that I don't let them cook every meal, do the dishes and laundry, wait a minute, am I nuts?!  But seriously, my mom is now in a different place in life.  She's not rushing out the door, taking care of small children, working... She has wisdom and time that allows her to invite her grandchildren into the everyday tasks that they love and let them participate.  I don't yet have that luxury, so in this season I can't let them participate in everything and I don't have to feel guilty about that.  I'm grateful that in our village, there are those who can give my children what I can't and I will continue to surround myself with those other villagers and allow them to teach and refine my children, guilt free!