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.”

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.

Welcome 2019! Wow, if the next year passes as quickly as the last, I’m going to need to purchase better running shoes! Time DOES pass too quickly which is why we really need to stop and smell the roses everyday.

Getting up in years the way I am makes me realize how fleeting life really is. You get more aches and pains, more unwanted ailments, your children grow and age more quickly than you’d like, more wrinkles appear and, yes, you acquire more flab. But all is not lost. You also gain more wisdom, learn to appreciate the little things in life, enjoy nature, and learn to accept others with whom you once thought you would never get along.

I take pleasure in watching birds interact for food at my birdfeeder along with all the squirrels vying for their share. Listening to the wind rustling through the pine trees makes me enjoy the pleasure of the forrest. Seeing the sun gradually shift in the sky with every sunset and sunrise makes me appreciate the blinds in my southern facing bedroom!

Life is good and we (I) need to be grateful for all life has bestowed upon us. Every morning I plan to count my blessings and every evening I will compile my gratitude list of the day. Welcome 2019 and here’s to that new pair of running shoes! Cheers!!