When I read this article from the Washington Post, I realized the woman who is narrating was born the same year as my Dad. I have been thinking about him a lot lately, so perhaps this is his way of comforting me through Lucille’s words. I hope you also receive some comfort from her inspiring words…..

https://www.washingtonpost.com/history/2020/04/05/centenarian-coronavirus-1918-flu-depression-world-war-2/?utm_campaign=wp_the_optimist&utm_medium=email&utm_source=newsletter&wpisrc=nl_optimist

Comfort from a 102-year-old who has lived through a flu pandemic, the Depression and WWII

‘You see a lot when you get to be 102,’ Lucille Ellson says, and learn a lot, too

By Jesse Dougherty April 5, 2020 at 7:30 a.m. EDT

At Lucille Ellson’s home, inside her brimming drawers, are hints of how the present mirrors the past.

Ellson is 102 years old. She was born Dec. 30, 1917, right before a flu spread through military camps in Europe and the United States and became a global pandemic. She was a baby then, unaware, but heard stories of how her uncle contracted the flu while serving in World War I; and how her father got it so bad that he took time away from the family farm outside Laurens, Iowa.

Neither died. Ellson’s mother would remind her of that, too. But it wasn’t Ellson’s last time living through a historic crisis. She was a teenager during the Great Depression. She was a schoolteacher and young wife during World War II. And she has reflected on that as the country faces another pandemic, this one from the novel coronavirus.

Ellson has been going through the letters, newspaper clippings and other stuff — she calls it “mumbo jumbo” — she’s kept over a century. It all reminds her of what’s gripping the country, the feeling of being stuck inside and a bit scared, and of not knowing what the future holds.

“I know a lot of people are in a panic about their weddings because they have to cancel them or postpone them,” Ellson said this week from her home in Orlando. “Well, let me tell you about my wedding.”

She can only draw faded lines between the coronavirus and the 1918 flu, since all those stories are second hand. The lines get thicker between today and the Great Depression, spanning 1929 to 1933, with millions applying for unemployment and the economy faltering. But Ellson sees today and the World War II period as true parallels.

It starts, for her, with a delayed wedding. She was supposed to marry Floyd Ellson in July 1942. Then came the Dec. 7, 1941, attack on Pearl Harbor. She and Floyd knew what that meant. He had a low draft number. Their marriage would have to wait. He was soon enlisted in the Navy, sent away for training, and Ellson stayed home teaching in Iowa while panic reigned.

Plumbers were out of work, she remembered, because all metal was directed to the war effort. A few local heating businesses closed for the same reason. People left her tiny town and rushed west, hoping for jobs building ships in California or Washington state. There was a shortage of teachers, and the school system begged her brother, who had fallen sick and was discharged from the Army, to come use his college degree in their classrooms.

“I spent so much time reading the ration book,” Ellson recalled. “The grocery store shelves were empty. It wasn’t quite like now, because you were allowed outside, but there was the same fear. That we didn’t know what was going to happen tomorrow.”

When she and Floyd did have their wedding, about a year later than expected, they weren’t gifted any metal dishware or table cloths. Those materials were still needed in large bulk by the U.S. military. She left teaching for a desk job at the Great Lakes Naval Training Station. He was away for 17 months as a gunnery officer. They were lucky and lost no relatives or close friends in the war.

She’s 105. He’s 106. The world’s oldest living couple celebrates 80 years of marriage.

Floyd didn’t make it home for Christmas in 1944. But he did send a letter to Lucille, who would soon give birth to their first child, a baby girl named Jane. They loved writing to each other. They would later write a book together, titled “My First 100 Years,” an effort Lucille finished after Floyd died at 104 in 2012. They had been married for 69 years.

“Darling I really love you,” Floyd penned to Lucille in a letter dated Dec. 25, 1944. “Everything you wrote & each little package just brought out to me your really true colors. You made this a very pleasant Christmas in such a way that I cannot be bitter. I can only hope we can be together next year & we can demonstrate to each other only what we can feel now. … I will sign off now and dream of you.”

Floyd was honorably discharged on Dec. 20, 1945. He made it back to Iowa for Christmas with Lucille and Jane.

“I’ve been through so many things,” Ellson said. “To cope with this virus, and all that’s going on, I would tell people to not get stressed about planning far ahead. You can’t do it. A long time ago, I started making a list every morning of what I had to do. It was the only thing I could control, and I stuck to it, you hear me?”

Those lists are similar day-to-day: Check in on family with her iPad, do Zoom video calls with her kids, their kids, and their kids’ kids. Make meals and bake desserts to leave on the front porch for her son who lives nearby. She cooked for 25 people in February. She calls that preparing “a little something.”

Ellson has few infirmities for her age, wearing a hearing aid and taking thyroid and blood pressure medicine. She still walks unassisted when inside. She otherwise uses a rollator for balance and storage. She calls it her “buggy.”

Lately, she’s been focused on organizing the drawers that show a life in full. She is sorting the mumbo jumbo into categories. One is for when her house will be sold, a pile of neighborhood regulations, the property deed, and old contracts that Floyd signed. Another is for receipts she doesn’t want to throw away. Another is for her kids, with the first-grade report card that shows she received a “D” in deportment and more letters from the war.

This is not her way of wasting time. She wishes she had more of that. But what Ellson wants people to know — “if I can preach for a minute,” she requested with a laugh — is that this, like everything else, will pass.

“I learned that from living, I guess,” she said. “You see a lot when you get to 102.”

Years ago when my three children were aged 6, 9, and 12, I became pregnant with my fourth child. She was a bit of an oops baby. We were just beginning the stage of semi-having our lives back, since our three children were more or less self-sufficient, when here I was pregnant with a fourth child. Once our dear little girl was born, we were back to diapers, sleepless nights, numerous doctors’ appointments….a total upheaval of life. I remember one evening visiting our friends whose children were practically all grown and out of the house. We were having a lovely dinner until our little wonder began crying uncontrollably to the point where we had to leave the wonderful company of two adults for whose lives we yearned. As we were leaving, my girlfriend said, “this too shall pass”.

Those four little words came back to me the other day while I was taking a lone walk through the park in order to sweep away cabin fever. After all, we had been quarantined for a couple of weeks due to a coronavirus scare in our household even before the governor of our state declared a “stay at home” directive. While I was walking I noticed a notebook opened to a page on the path I was taking. It read “this too shall pass”. I didn’t dare lift it up for fear of contracting the disease through paper transmission, I’m not sure that is possible though, so I left it there for others to see and ponder.

My wish for everyone is to see the notebook on their contemplative walks and realize that yes, this too shall pass. There have been times, usually in the middle of the night when my mind wanders, when one thinks of the most bizarre things, mostly of all the egregious influences this virus could have on our lives….to the point where I am in a bit of a panic attack! But after seeing and remembering those four little words, I realize that yes, one way or another this too shall pass. We, (I), have to remember to keep the faith, follow the rules, be smart, listen to factual news, (but not too much!), and use good common sense and we will be alright….just like all those diaper changes and zombie days from sleepless nights passed years ago.

So for now dear friends, please stay safe, keep in touch with loved ones, find a new hobby, enjoy your time at home and remember this too shall pass.

Keep well!!

There are many ways to communicate. One can use texts, e-mails, instagram, tweets, blogs or whatever else is out there unbeknownst to me, the old-timer, who enjoys using snail mail. Just ask our children or anyone in the millennial generation whatever group, and I’m sure they could identify a gazillion other means of communication using the internet. Whatever one’s preference, though, the bottom line is communication is essential; not only for educational purposes but to quench and replenish our spirits. All humans, and animals dare I say, need to communicate.

Without communication there is more depression, loneliness and isolation which can lead to very unhealthy outcomes and in some cases maybe suicide. Many atrocities that have occurred in our country have been rooted in hatred. From where does this hatred originate? I believe from lack of communication and fear of communicating. One has to wonder if only all people of different color, race, ethnicity, and religion or spirituality would just sit and have an open and truthful dialogue, our world would not be in such chaos. People are too busy observing differences between themselves rather than acknowledging all the similarities. From the beginning of time, people procreated, fed their minds and bodies, and protected their off-spring. Isn’t that similar to what humans do today? We all want to make a good living to purchase necessities and even frivolous objects to sate our ego. We all want to protect our loved ones and perpetuate our legacies. So why can’t we just accept this commonality and move on with our lives? We don’t need to belittle or bully or compare ourselves with others. Live and let live. Don’t give a hoot about how many “likes” or “friends” you have compared to others. Start appreciating your friends by personally communicating with them.

I am wondering if all this technological communication is good for the soul. Many times the written word is misconstrued. It is difficult to find real meaning and true intentions in written words alone. You need to be present with others, read their body language, listen to the inflections in their voices, and look into their eyes. Taking the time to actually speak to someone rather than send a text is much more personal. By having these physical connections, one can read between the lines and perhaps save someone who is “screaming” for help. Who knows, you may even save someone’s life!

So in conclusion, don’t be afraid to communicate, especially in person and even when you think it may not be appropriate. You never know when that one little gesture may bring sunshine to someone’s very bleak day.

Just when you think you have life worked out, it throws you a curve or maybe even a 180. That’s the way I’ve been feeling this summer. I know it’s been forever since I’ve expressed myself, but honestly, I wasn’t in the “head-space” to write. My daughter and her fiancee had been busily preparing for their wedding, but out of the blue (at least for me) they decided to postpone and now, call it off. I truly understand where my daughter is coming from and I want what is best for her and her fiancee. Afterall, I love them both but it’s extremely difficult to watch their hurt and sadness. As a mom, you carry and feel all the hopes, fears, disappointments, and joys of your children. All children have trials and tribulations growing up. They get upset over their best friend dumping them for someone else or are devestated when they break their foot and ankle the summer before their junior year when they’re pegged to be the best runner for their high school cross country team. They eventually (and some times much quicker than one would think) move on from these  “catastrophes”,  but it lingers for moms. It isn’t as easy for us to just  change course with our emotions. So even though THEY try to and do move on, we are still feeling the brunt of sadness, emptiness and loss. This was supposed to be a summer of fun and joyful anticipation. I thought the day my daughter collected her wedding gown would be a day full of hope, anticipation, and out and out fun. Instead though, I found myself ridden with sorrow. However, I do feel some consolation when my daughter reassures me she is doing the right thing for both of them.

So here I am, stuck in this pergatory, happy in one respect that at least they didn’t wait until after they were married to realize something was amiss, but quite distraught because of the loss of a family and life that will never happen. Life does move on, so I need to pick myself up and find a different direction that will bring me happiness and contentment. I joined a gym and have been swimming at the pool, running and walking on the treadmill, and taking up yoga classes. I have also incorporated meditation into my day and read affirmations every morning. I took a course that allowed me to be certified as a stager and have opened my own business and have also been thinking outside the box for other alternatives. Actually an opportunity fell into my lap this spring; one which could come to fruition this fall. I am following up on that.

They say things happen for a reason. I am desperately trying to find a silver lining and I’m sure it will appear sooner or later. So for now, @#*& happens! Deal with it!!