Just over two weeks ago, my husband and I were blessed with the birth of a healthy new granddaughter, Riley Mae. Her middle name is in honor of my mother, Mae, and I was moved to tears that my son wanted his daughter to bear the name of her great-grandmother. It’s a symbol of honor, to be sure. But it’s also a means by which to reinforce family connections and to remember a woman who loved so deeply and who was so deeply loved in return.
I’ve found myself thinking a lot about connections lately. I spent the long 4th of July weekend at the Jorgens’ family farm just outside of Scandinavia, in beautiful north-central Wisconsin. Twin Brook Farm was settled by my husband’s great-great grandfather when he emigrated from Norway. Bob is keenly aware of how fortunate he is to have been one of the recipients as the farm was passed on from one generation to the next, and he takes seriously his responsibility of stewarding the land to the very best of his ability for the generations after him. He has an undeniable sense of connection to his ancestors on that farm. “Just think,” Bob once said to me as we were walking through the woods, “I’m walking on the very same ground as my great-great grandfather!”
To be honest, I’ve always been a little envious of the connectedness Bob feels with so many family members who came before him, not to mention the stories that have been passed down along the way! I long for that same sense of connection. Several years ago, I drove through my beloved neighborhood in north Minneapolis where I grew up, recalling memories and experiences that shaped the person I am today. I stopped at the building that had been the Baskin Robbins Ice Cream Shop that my mother managed for several years, and that was now a trendy little restaurant. I ordered a latte and walked on the old hardwood floors, intentionally covering the same exact space that my mother would have covered as she walked back and forth behind the counter. It was obviously not the same as feeling the same earth under my feet that a great-great grandparent felt. But it did the trick. I felt a strong sense of connection and in my mind’s eye could see my mother smiling at customers coming through the door and chatting with kids who stopped by for an after-school treat.
Recently I joined a Facebook group called, “Old North Minneapolis.” I decided to join primarily because I was interested in the historical information and photos shared on the site. But what I’ve learned more than anything from being part of this group is that everyone longs for a sense of connection. As soon as someone posts a photo – perhaps of their school or church or a restaurant or theater – comments come flooding in from people about the memories they associate with that place. Until a few weeks ago, I had been only a casual observer of the “Old North Minneapolis” site. But when I saw a significant number of people posting photos of their childhood home, I took the bait. I posted a picture of my house with the address and a brief comment.
I was stunned that 418 people (most of whom I didn’t know!) “reacted” to my post, and over 100 people commented on it: I love that old neighborhood! I used to slide on your hill after school! I went to Loring Elementary, too! Are you Kathy’s sister? Did you go to Victory Lutheran Church? The connectedness that I saw (and felt) taking place in this forum was amazing.
We are living in a time when connections are as important as ever. And yet, the past four months have made it more than a little challenging to feel connected to family, friends, and others in the community. Perhaps one of the silver linings in the COVID-19 cloud is that we will have learned how very much relationships matter and how, more than we ever realized, we need to feel connected and part of a nurturing community if we are to live the healthy, meaningful, and vibrant lives that God intends.
In the meantime, we can each do our part to foster community as best we can – especially for the sake of those who are lonely, isolated, and disconnected from the technological means that make connection possible for the rest of us. A phone call or a simple hand-written note can make a world of difference to someone and serve as a wonderful reminder of the beloved community to which we all belong.
Loving Lord, we give you thanks for the gift of community and for the connections we share as human beings and children of God. Make your presence known to all who feel lonely and isolated, and use each of us to nurture and care for one another and our community. Amen.
