I talk about my family often, so if you know me, you know
that I hold my grandmother on a platform as an example of the woman I strive to
be. She was loving and nurturing, but
she was strong. She raised smart, kind,
strong children who became smart, kind, strong parents of smart, kind, strong
children. There was nothing that she couldn’t do if she wanted to and she did a
lot. She worked hard. She was inventive and creative and could
always find a way to accomplish whatever needed to be done. But for all of the things I could say about
Josephine,. I never would have said that
she was playful.
That is, until I saw some newly discovered photos of the
young girl who had not yet become a wife, a mother, a grandmother. She was eating watermelon, making faces, and
clearly horsing around with her brothers.
In hindsight, I realize I saw that in her. She had a sly sense of humor, but was very
quick and quiet about showing it. She,
well into her late 80s, could still play pool (one handed!) like the shark she
learned to be at her brothers’ sides.
And, now that I think about it, the way she helped her grandchildren
learn Readin’ Ritin’ and ‘Rithmetic was done through games, rhymes, and
songs. She DID have a playful silly
side!
Still, I never would have said that she was sentimental. In my family, I think I carry the sappy torch
of schmaltzy remember-whens that make everyone else roll their eyes. I never would have guessed that my
grandmother had that in her. The other
day, however, my mother and I were talking about fabric and quilts, which
reminded her of the time my grandmother made a wedding ring pattern quilt for
her youngest child – my aunt Ruth – with fabric from Ruth’s dresses and
clothing over the years. You could have
knocked me over with a feather with that revelation. My stoic, practical grandmother had an
emotional connection with fabric scraps!?!
Now, she’d been quilting all of my life. Every family baby was welcomed with a quilt
made by her hands. Of course, I knew
those quilts were made with love and devotion.
They were all received with love and a bit of reverence for the heart
and hands that made them. I just never
realized that those sentimental feelings were a two way street.
This new insight to a woman I thought I understood just made
me think of the old iceberg adage. We’ve
all heard the expression “just the tip of the iceberg”. It’s generally intended to say that there is
so much more to a situation than one can easily see. Sometimes, that can mean things that seem
simple are actually very complex.
Sometimes, it’s used as a warning that the worst of a situation is yet
to come. Sometimes, however, it’s
delivered as advice to persist because beyond the good that you can see, there
is only more bounty to come.
The Josephine that I knew was just a tiny portion of who she
really was. And I think, if we’re being
honest with ourselves, that rings true for all of us. No matter how much we say we’re open and
present our whole selves, there’s no real way to display all of the ingredients
that make us who we are.
My kids used to love those little scratch art sheets that,
at first glance, are a sheet of one matte solid (usually dark) color. Using the tip of a little plastic pencil,
they’d scratch away the solid and reveal the bright rainbow of color that lay
beneath. Life’s kind of like that: scratch away the darkness to reveal the
beautiful picture. The catch is, if you
scratch it all away, you’re left with nothing but a meaningless blob of
color. It's the dark veneer that holds the
shape.
Likewise, it’s the deep-set foundation that gives the
iceberg strength. We see what’s
visible. If we get closer and stick
around a bit, it becomes clear that there’s more below the surface than we
first saw. I once saw a quote (sorry,
don’t recall who said it): “Personality
is the tip of the iceberg someone shows you.
Character is their true foundation.”
With this in mind, I will continue to be surprised by the
base at the iceberg of every person I meet and I hope we all experience more
awe and beauty and less “Titanic”..
