It’s only 6 days until Christmas and so far I’ve
managed to get through the season without slipping into a depression. The
holiday season usually makes me melancholy. I made a big effort this year to shake
things up. I knew it could be difficult due to all the losses I and those close
to me have sustained this year. It started off with losing Mom in February and
went on from there.
Today I’ve
been thinking about the women I inherited my strength from and I’ve concluded
that I’m the last of these Pioneer women. This makes me a bit sad. I’m the last
one to remember the old stories of the trials and tribulations those that came
before me endured. The losses they sustained were numerous and crushing, but
they never let things keep them down for long. These losses included a husband
who died in my grandmother’s arms, the death of her oldest child, and the death
of her sister who was just a young teenager. My grandmother, Grace Shupe Arnold
Kimzey, was ill most of her life with ulcerative colitis, which I inherited from
her. Unfortunately in the time she lived, her UC was not able to be cured and
she suffered with it until she died of leukemia at 56 years of age. Even though
she was sick, she never stopped working and taking care of those she loved. Her
mother, Elmira Sargent Shupe, suffered the loss of her daughter, Mary, to a
ruptured appendix when she was just a young teenager. Mary’s picture hangs in
my dining room.
Great-granmother
Elmira cared for my mother, Kathryn Kimzey Judkins, when she was just a little
girl. Grandma Grace had been placed in a TB sanitarium because the doctors at
the time thought she had TB of the bowel. Mom lived with her grandmother for
almost 2 years. She missed her mother, her father, and her three brothers
terribly. In her final years of life, Mom lost every one of her generation. She
was the last one left alive. But she didn’t let it get her down. She kept
moving forward until it was her turn to go. She always found new things to do,
new friends, and she was always helping someone.
I heard
all the stories of homes that burned down, babies being placed in an old wooden
blanket chest to sleep since there was nowhere else to put them, and I heard a
lot about the Great Depression. Still, they survived. Perhaps they didn’t
prosper greatly, but they enjoyed their lives.
I learned
a lot about life from these women. One of Grandma’s phrases was, “This, too,
shall pass away.” Whenever something terrible happens, I remember that. It will
pass. The pain will lessen. You can go on. You can enjoy the holiday season
even though you’ve sustained a loss. I know I don’t ever want my loved ones to
mourn for me so much that they aren’t able to go on, and I also know my Mom,
Dad, and everyone else I’ve lost would want the same for me.
Peace be
with you all during this holiday season.
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