Taken for Granted...#7

The things I take for granted are the things I do not think about..so to think about what I do not think about is an interesting task. Welcome to the challenge week #7.


Potlucks and Sunday night visiting. Saturday night saunas and drop in visitors. The days when dropping by was normal and you didn't have to plan to have relationships..you just did them. Oh,  what I have taken for granted and what I am so grateful to know as my childhood "normal".
Growing up Apostolic these things were the norm. Weekend would come and we would ask "can we go visiting?" Dad would pick up the phone and call just to see if someone was home. Or we would just hop in the van and go check. If you stayed home it meant the opportunity for someone to come "visiting" at your house. My best of friends as a child were because we had countless weekends playing together. We frequented Carrie and Diana's (one of my all time favorite visiting locations). Sometimes we would go clear up to Clatskanie to Kendra's where we would write stories and spy on the boys and dream up all sorts of adventures. Then there was the sauna places. One home we went to had so many "little peoples" to play with we ever got bored. Oh...I never knew people didn't have saunas or at least know someone who did. I mean, we didn't have one, but of course we knew plenty of places to get one. They weren't just something you used in a gym..they were where you got clean on a Saturday night.
The strength of the hospitality culture I grew up in was something I took for granted, until I didn't have it around me any more. It's more than hospitality even..it's a sense that someone always has your back. You'll never end up on the street..you have family everywhere. When someone had a baby, people rallied and cooked meals. If you were sick and at the hospital, there was no shortage of visitors and meals and prayer.
And..people love to sing. Every time you would get a group of people together- if someone can play the piano then you have some singing. And there would be plates of treats..always if you go visiting- you bring a snack. The nissu and coffee and crackers and mucceda (I have NEVER tried to spell that word in my life..but some people call it summer sausage) comes out and there is a glorious array of tasty treats whether there are many or few present.
Our visiting days were to the young and the old. We'd visit Aunt Penny and Uncle Lew- there we could play in the barn. At Karl and Becky's there was loads of books to read and the old Carmen Sandiego game on the green screen mac. We'd pick beans at Lorretta's and watch the fish at Chelle's...
Yes, I took this for granted.
Yes, I am thankful for these memories...and someday, when I have kids, I want them to experience the "visiting" culture. But to have that happen I must be interruptible, to value relationship more than agenda..and slow down.