Simple Lives

George and I have been visiting in Lake Tahoe, California this past week. It is the third anniversary of my mom’s passing, and we came to the beautiful Sierra Nevada Mountains to visit her grave and celebrate the goodness of her life.

Along with my sister, who still lives in Tahoe, we bought pale lilac colored gladiolas (my mom’s favorite color and flower) and drove over to the Happy Homes Cemetery to place them on her grave. We stood by the graveside in the beautiful Tahoe sunshine and talked and laughed and remembered. My sister remembered how our summer days at the Lake were filled with people visiting from near and far, picnics on the beach, hikes into the mountains, and making room for lots of extra guests. We were awed by how Mom was always jovial and welcoming when the hordes descended.

We also chuckled about how she saved aluminum foil, and rubber bands, and plastic bags—not because she grew up in the age of recycling, but because she grew up in the age of the Great Depression. Both Mom and Dad were good at saving, paying cash for a big ticket items, doing without, and not caring what the “Jones’s” possessed. I have a little Christmas book coming out entitled, “Christmas for a Dollar” which tells of an actual Christmas my father had when he was a boy during the depression, and how he and his family made a joyful celebration out of very little. Retelling the story has made me reevaluate how I approach the season. It’s also made me very grateful for parents who lived such frugal and good lives.

Both my parents are gone now, but I never think of them with sadness. I think of the fun, charmed, and adventurous life they provided while I was growing up, and for the legacy of hard work and simplicity they taught. All the lessons have served me well.