Day 37: Gevurah in Yesod, Strength in Connection
My Grandpa Earl used to take us to the park near his house that had a little bridge over a drainage ditch. We liked to drop rocks into the water, but there was only enough water to make a splash if it had rained a lot recently, so it was usually dry or just muddy. In those cases, he would make splashing sounds with his mouth from small "plops" to loud "PLUNKs" and everything in between.
There is a creek behind my house and my kids have inherited the near-universal human desire to throw rocks into it. This creek, being an actual creek and not just a drainage ditch, always has water in it, but I still like to mimic my grandpa and put a little extra oomph into the splash their rocks make, and as I do, I tell them about Grandpa Earl.
I tell my kids stories like this about their great-grandparents all the time. I tell them about painting watercolors with my Grandma Loretta, decorating cookies with my Grandma Ruby, and watching baseball and eating donuts with my Grandpa Howard. Each story is a cherished memory, and as I share my past with them, I hope they will draw strength from the fact that love endures beyond death, that the legacy of their great-grandparents can reach them even if they never met, like ripples in the creek reaching the shore.
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