Pass it on

I remember the year that my mother made clothes for my doll as a Christmas present. We didn't get a lot for Christmas; as small children we each got something, but even that stopped by the time we reached our teens.

But one Christmas, when I was four or five I knew my Mom, after we kids were in bed, stayed up sewing. I don't know if I knew it then, but I did later, that my Mom did not like to sew, she sewed because she had to! Anyway, Christmas morning I awoke to a wardrobe for my doll -- I don't remember how many pieces, but I know along with the usual dresses there was a little coat -- that impressed me!

As I have four older brothers and two younger I felt obliged to keep up with the boys and didn't spend a lot of time playing with dolls despite of my Mom's encouragement. Although my brothers also had a doll each, they were more inclined to other kinds of play; sometimes though they would play "house" with me.

Barb with friends

I enjoyed sewing much more than my Mom ever did. When my kids were little "Cabbage Patch Kids" were all the rage. I started making soft sculpture dolls for sale. For her 5th birthday I made Trina a large doll she named "Randy." Not only does she still have that doll, but Mina loves to play with it.

Trina with Randy, 1984

Mina with Randy, 2014

Trina loves sewing even more than I. She not only sews, but designs and drafts patterns to sell as well. Although she made a doll for her new daughter, she also worked with Mina to make her own doll (after reading the book "Fanny") when she was only four years old.

Mina with Annabelle

So where might Mina take this tradition?

By Guest Blogger Barbara Burkard

 ©2013-2104 twosnydergirls

January is Thyroid Awareness Month - Barb's Story

Thyroid awareness month

In July, 2005, as I was putting lotion on my face and neck I noticed a lump on my throat, roughly where my Adam's apple is, that I hadn't noticed before. I was quite sure it wasn't something that belonged. I made an appointment with my doctor.

My family doctor subsequently made an appointment with a nose ear & throat specialist. I went to see this doctor and underwent a few uncomfortable procedures. I had three nodules on my thyroid, but whether they were benign or malignant the doctor couldn't tell. I was sent to the Nuclear Medicine department of the hospital for a special x-ray, which was inconclusive as well. I was told that the next step was surgery.

Initially booked for several months down the road, a cancellation suddenly moved the date forward. I was glad to get the procedure and the suspense over with!

Along the way I'd done a lot of internet research on the thyroid and the implications of nodules. What a wonderful tool the internet can be. As my mother has a goitre and my youngest sister has hypothyroidism, I read about all aspect of thyroid disease. The pre-surgery appointment at the hospital was helpful for understanding what to expect of the surgery itself.

I was very grateful to have my dear friend Marjorie accompany me to the hospital that day, to wait with me prior to going to the operating room, as well as being there when I came out of recovery. It was a long day for her! I was unconscious for longer than expected, not because of the surgery, but because the operating room had to be re-sterilized, adding extra time to the procedure.

My recovery was uneventful -- three days in the hospital, then home for two weeks. Thankfully, only half my thyroid was removed and none of the parathyroid glands. My voice was unaffected by the operation. The nodules proved to be benign. And as the remaining half of my thyroid was working I have not had to take medication. The only sign of this ordeal is the small scar across my neck. Thanks be to God.

Click here for a definition of Thyroid nodules 

Click here for information on Goiters 

Click here for information on thyrotoxicosis 

 Thank you Barb for sharing your experience with Thyroid disease. 

Grandma Snyder

©2013-2014 twosnydergirls 

Soup on Sunday

One of the very hardest things for me after my husband died was coming home from church on Sunday. Sunday had always been a family day, and now the family had a huge hole.

After my Dad died my sister continued to take Mom to church. When I moved into the same building as Mom I started getting soup ready for them so that we could eat our noon meal together, and Sunday afternoon seemed less long and barren. Even now that Mom is in a Long Term Care Home my sister often brings her to my house for soup on Sunday.

Today I have half a cabbage and some beets that need to be used, so I pulled out the Mennonite Central Committee sponsored cookbook, Simply in Season, and turned to page 243, “Winter Borscht.” Because I am of Swiss Mennonite heritage, I didn’t experience borscht and zwieback and other such Russian Mennonite foods until I went into Voluntary Service. But I’ve always enjoy foods from other parts of the world, and don’t hesitate to try them.

I rarely make a recipe exactly as written. This will be no exception. I do not have stewing beef or chicken, but I do have frozen meatballs and a litre of beef broth that I can use for half the water. Likewise I don’t have pearl barley on hand, but I do have quinoa. I have dried parsley, not fresh and I will leave out the chives.

Too bad you can’t add the smell of my soup cooking to this blog. Yum!

For these Sundays I get the soup just barely cooked, then turn off the stove while I go to church. When I get home, I need only turn up the heat to bring it to serving temperature.

Because of the cold winter weather Mom opted not to come today. My sister, niece and I enjoyed a bowl of borscht with lots left over. I send some home with them. Lunches this week are easy.

Barbara B 

A Bit of Grace

I grew up in an (Amish) Mennonite family. Saying grace before a meal was aways a part of any mealtime.

Gingerich family 1956

When I had kids of my own, my husband and I continued that tradition. We would hold hands and pray a blessing on our food and our day in whatever manner felt best for that particular time. Although I don't say an audible prayer when I eat alone, I do still ask to hold hands pray out loud when I have guests.

When Trina and Gary started their life together, they did not say a grace before meals at home. Thus Mina was introduced to this concept by her grandparents. She is now four years old and on this visit "home" her experience in church and with prayer was more meaningful than it has ever been. 

Mina at Christmas Eve service

Mina loved singing with the congregation in church. Poppa worked on teaching her a prayer, "God is great, God is good, let us thank him for our food. Amen" Sometimes she would say her own prayer, in 'Mina-ese' (Mina spoke in a language all her own for some time before using English) - we knew it was a prayer by the cadence and phrasing. 

Mina and Poppa

For our last lunch together before the family would get on the big airplane to fly back to California was a bit of a hurried thing. Grandma made pizza, with Mina's help. 

Mina making a blueberry, ham and cheese pizza

When the pizza was ready we started eating. Mina stopped us, reaching out her hands. We got the message. We stopped, took hands around the circle and repeated the grace Poppa taught her. Gary decided they might have to start doing this at home too.

You may not always know when you are teaching a child -- or when a child is teaching you.

People were bringing babies to Jesus so that he would bless them. When the disciples saw this, they scolded them. Then Jesus called them to him and said, "Allow the children to come to me. Don't forbid them, because God's kingdom belongs to people like these children. I assure you that whoever doesn't welcome God's kingdom like a child will never enter it." Luke 18:15-17

Barbara B

© 2013-2014 twosnydergirls

Love Letters

When I was young my mother had a wooden box in the top drawer of her dresser that contained letters she and my father wrote to each other before they were married. I would sometimes sneak a peak at these letters. It showed me an aspect of my parents I didn't ever see otherwise. These letters also greatly influenced the kind of man I wanted in my life - someone with whom I could share the love of God.

Volker and I also wrote letters to each other, before and after our marriage. I too keep them in a wooden box, along with some other special letters and things.

The two soft magnets were part of a valentine card I made for Volker that said,
"Pumpkins are orange,
zucchinis are green,
You're the best husband
I've ever seen."

The pink sugar cupid was on a cookie he bought for me.

The little shoes are slippers I made for my baby boy.

The child's drawing is from a card that Trina made for me when she was six, "because I wanted to show you that I love you."

My treasures!

When Mom moved to into long term care the wooden box was still in that drawer, but it was now empty and the lid was off. It was looking it's age. I took it home.

Because it had so influenced me, I want to pass that on somehow. My own kids are grown and married, so, I thought, I'd like to pass this on to my granddaughter. We have a lot of fun with mail because we live so far apart. I want her to treasure the really important things in life, the less tangible -- the love we give and receive.

I asked my brother, Myron, who besides being a wonderful photographer, is really good in the refinishing department. Last night he brought Mom's wooden box back to me. Isn't it beautiful! Definitely a treasure box now!

As Mina is only four years old I will wait awhile before I give her this box, but in the meantime I will put a few treasure into it for her.

Barb

  ©2013 Twosnydergirls

Delving into the past

In my last post "What's in a name" I mentioned a plate that I received from my Grandmother, Barbara Roth. She told me she wanted me to have the plate because she got it from her grandmother, who was also named Barbara. Being in my teens at the time I didn't ask further questions. And of course, now it is too late.

I work at First Mennonite Church in Kitchener and frequently have people coming into my office looking for the grave site of a relative. Our records are limited, but if someone is buried there I can usually find a location. I've also learned from these people about other on-line tools for finding ancestors.

This got me to thinking about my own great-great grandmother, about whom I knew only a first name. Could I find more?

I started at with a marvellous source, The Eby Book, now kept at the Joseph Schneider Haus in Kitchener.  This is a book written by Ezra Eby about 1895, listing the Mennonite family in and around Waterloo Region. From there I discovered EzraEby.com, where Allan Detweiler has done an incredible job continuing the work Ezra started.

I did a search on this site and found my Grandma:

Then I searched both her parents, finding her mother Katie's mother, Barbara Erb:

So here is the original owner of my plate. I do wish I knew more about this woman who died in 1876, before my Grandma was even born! And about this plate, which doesn't seem very Amish to me. 

As Barbara Erb's parents were born in Europe (continuing my backward search), did they bring the plate to the New World? Or was it acquired here? This record doesn't say if Barbara was born in Wilmot Township, only that she died here. She was only in her forties when she died. With at least nine living children the youngest only two years old. How sad.

But as I clicked on various family members I discovered an interesting fact. Bishop John P Gascho remarried after his wife's death: to Barbara Erb - another one! 

Were the two Barbaras related? The second one didn't marry until her forties, never had children of her own, but took on a big family. And lived to be 96. Was this one the original owner of the plate?

Seems the more questions I get answered the more I have!

What's in a name?

  Names have meanings. Some cultures wait a length of time before naming a new child, in order to match the name to the child. I, on the other hand, knew long before I had children what I wanted to name them. 

Though I've never watched a lot of TV, as a teen I had a crush on Roger Moore's, Simon Templar, "The Saint." Thus I determined that if I ever had a son, his name would be Simon.

Roger Moore in "The Saint"

Originally I wanted my son's second name to be James, just because I like the name, but my husband wasn't so keen on it. Together we decided to call him Simon Nathaniel, because Nathaniel means, "A gift from God," and that is what our baby boy was (and is)!

One day in the early seventies I watched just a snippet of a movie in which the mother was an alien from outer space. The woman's name was Petrina, and I thought it the most beautiful name I'd ever heard. Thus did my daughter acquire her name. 

Simon and Petrina, 2010

Many children are named for someone who went before. I am named for my two grandmothers: Barbara for my mother's mother and Ann for my father's mother. These two women were very different, but I loved them both!

Grandma Barbara Roth with my sisters, 1973

Grandma Annie Gingerich with my Dad, 1971

Some years before she died, Grandma Roth showed me a plate in her china cabinet and told me that she wanted me to have that plate when she was gone because she got it from her Grandmother who was also named Barbara. It is one of my treasured possessions! I, too, will pass this plate on to a granddaughter.

The "Barbara" plate

My daughter has named both her children for their grandfather -- her dad died when Trina was seven years old. Her newborn son was named Volker directly after his grandpa. Wilhelmina's name is also in honour of him -- read that story here: http://www.wilhelminagehiere.com/?p=47. In addition, both children carry their same sex parent's middle name.

Trina with her father, 1985

How about you? Is there a story behind your name? The name(s) you gave your child(ren)? Telling these stories helps our kids to know who they are and where they've come from.

Between Elderly Parents and Grandchildren

Sandwiched!

In 2008 I decided to sell my house and move into the condo building were my mother resided. She was 84 years and in reasonably good health, but definitely not what she once was. On the day that I signed the final paper Mom had a stroke.

My sisters with Mama the day before her stroke

Initially I worried that I'd made this move for nothing, but after two months in hospital Mom was able to return home. Thus began my journey into being a caregiver for my mother. Thankfully, as one of ten kids, I never had to do it alone, though for several years I was her primary caregiver.

For both of us it was important that we each have our own place. Initially I made her breakfast and supper, but later only helped with supper. It was important for Mom to keep "doing" as much as possible. Thus for four years I ate boiled potatoes and carrots every evening. In preparing these vegetables she felt she was helping me as well as doing for herself. Though soon I took charge of the rest of the meal, jokes about potatoes and carrots abounded with friends and family.

My first grandchild was born in 2009 and moved in early 2010 to California. Thus began my twice yearly trips to that state. This meant that while I was away someone else had to take on the caregiving for Mom as she continued a slow decline.

Making cookies with Mina in California

In late 2011 my brother moved in with Mom. He was looking for a place to live and Mom was needing someone with her at night. When Mom got very ill in December 2012 we started 24/7 caregiving. That was only possible because there are a number of us who were able to spend varying amounts of time with her. But my going away for 10 days or more caused complications. Ultimately we couldn't keep it up and had to make the decision to "put her into a home."

Oh, how I dislike that term! And yet it is true. Mom was no longer able to make safe choices for herself, so we had to make them for her. This was not something she wanted. On the day before her move she said to me, "Dad was never sent away." (My father died at home after a year+ long fight with cancer; he need 24hr care for about 3 weeks.) Dad was able to die at home partly because Mom was there with him all the time. Oh how I ached for her! After a lifetime of caring for everyone else there was no one able to care for her.

Happily, Mom has made the transition to nursing home with the grace she has done everything else in her life. We, her kids, are amazed and grateful.

My sister and Mom at her new home

Even so, I find it difficult to leave Ontario to travel to California, where I feel my daughter and her family also need me (and I need them!), because it means not visiting Mom. I feel squashed sometime. However, I know it will not be forever so I continue to offer as much care in both directions as I can.

What about you? Are you sandwiched too?

Grandparenting at a Distance

I would like to introduce you to Barbara Burkard my dear friend and guest blogger on The Adventures of Grandpa and Grandma Snyder.

 Never Far From Our Hearts

The day Mina was born her father had his first interview with Apple Computers. She was four months old when she and her Mom joined her Dad in California. I was very disappointed, but this was my son-in-law's dream job, so what could I do but wish them well?

Four Generations

We've tried to keep a pattern of visits four times a year. I've gone to California twice and Trina and Mina have come to Ontario twice. (Gary usually makes only the Christmas trip. This year, as Trina was nearly eight months pregnant she did not come in June.) Honestly, the visits to California are the best as I get a lot of Mina-time. When the family comes to Ontario they have a full schedule of visits to family and friends, so I get less time with my best girl.

Thus much of my relationship with Mina has been online. I thank God for the wonderful technologies that are available to us now! It is still astounding to me that I can see and talk to my kids in real time even when they are 4,000 km away. And, using FaceTime or Skype, it doesn't cost me anything beyond my computer and internet connection. We have had marathon sessions, like the time I 'babysat' Mina for three hours while her parents assembled an Ikea bed. Of course, they were within earshot the whole time and available to intervene when necessary, nonetheless, talking to Gramma helped to keep Mina out from under foot.  

From about age 18 months to 3 years Mina often did not want to talk to Gramma on the computer. She would initially cry and run away and hide, though she'd come later to talk.That was quite hard for me, but, thankfully, it didn't last.

While the distance thing is a little hard to understand when you are little, Mina has now learned that "Gramma is too far away," to really play the way we'd like to. But that never hurt imagination! We still play games like "Captain Hook Gramma" wherein Mina sets a toy in front of the iPad and pretends that Captain Hook Gramma won't let her have it. Now, at nearly four, she very often has our games all scripted out, so I just have to follow her lead. 

Pirates!

With the ease of taking "home movies" these days (especially when one works for Apple) I get frequent videos of Mina's activities. This has really helped me feel connected. I've been able to watch her grow. Earlier this year Trina sent me a recording of her baby's heart beat (picture only, audio file not attached).

Another way to nurture our relationship lately has been to send "Mina mail." Mina loves to get her own mail, so I try to send something every once in a while, a Canada Day keychain, doll clothes I made, a card. The postage is, I think, a small price to pay to help keep a connection healthy.

I envy people that have grandchildren nearby. But I have no intention of letting this important relationship suffer because of the miles between us. I do hope that the family will return to Ontario someday, in the meantime I will use every means available to maintain a close relationship to Mina and her new brother, Volker.

My grandkids