rotting apples

In the bottom of my produce drawer, there are some rotting apples.  At the end of August, the kids and I went to pick apples at Grandma's.  We came home with 3 huge boxes of ripe apples and a paper bag with green apples in it.  We used all the ripe apples for eating, making apple sauce and apple butter.  A lot of it.  I am always glad to peel that last apple and put it in the crock pot.

I forgot about the green apples in the paper bag until a few weeks ago when I was in the basement and noticed a distinct aroma.  A few were rotten, but the rest would still be good for baking.  I made apple crisp and baked apples a few times, but a dozen or so still remain in the drawer, rotting.

I didn't know our apple picking day would be that last time the kids and I would get to enjoy a day with Grandma.  She came down with pneumonia this fall and her body just didn't have the will to recover.  My mother-in-law says in her last days Grandma was praying to go to her eternal home, to be united with her Savior, and reunited with her husband.  I'm glad in God's grace and eternal wisdom, her request was fulfilled.  But my heart aches with sadness for us who are still here wanting to enjoy our mom, grandma, great-grandma for a little longer.

A couple years after Bryan and I were married, we took Grandma to Vegas with us- something she had used to do regularly before Grandpa passed on.  We went to the top of the Stratosphere where we rode the roller coaster and ate at the overpriced restaurant with an amazing view.  We put our quarters in the slots, walked the strip with our 99 cent margaritas, and giggled about the whole thing.  Not long after we returned home, the babies started rolling in and, while others needed time to bond with our babies, she was immediately thrilled with each new addition.  It turned out we had hit the jackpot in our own way, and I think she thought it was hilarious.  She'd watch in amusement as we'd pile into the house on holidays - babies and toddlers melting down, running wild, making demands, noise, and messes left and right. When the dust would settle and between crisis', we'd sit with coffee and she'd say, "I just don't know how you do it."  But Grandma was the one always serving and giving to others, going out of her way to make some one's day special, and working behind the scenes with no desire to be recognized.

In the bottom of my fridge, there are some rotting apples.   Life has run it's course.  Eventually, I will move the rotting apples to the compost and in the spring it will give important nutrients to new life.  Not in the same way, we receive from our generations past life lessons in faith, values, and traditions, treasure them, and pass them on to generations new.

Let salvation spring up, let righteousness flourish with it; I, the LORD, have created it.  Isaiah 45:8

 



Bryan's college years

Eating at the Top of the Stratosphere

Vegas Vacation

Holding Baby Dominick 

Grandma with Isaiah; Brett and I in wagon (Lydia in utero!)

 

Grandma, Brett, Lydia - Christmas 2008

 

Brett and Grandma picking apples August 2012