Daniel’s Arrival

Big Topics at Midnight’s dedication reads, “My ancestors and I dedicate this book to [my grown children] Paul and Laura. May you and other young adults and children around the globe today, as well as your children, benefit from my generation’s work to create the transformation we long for. Blessings as you live your own lives fully, wildly and boldly.”

I wrote that in 2012.

Just after midnight on April 25, 2018, the bleak hospital maternity waiting room cleared out as other eager but tired grandparents left to find a more comfortable place to rest for a few hours. Left alone, I felt free to sing out loud. A favorite lullaby I sang to Paul and Laura when they were young. Beloved hymns. Chants. One flowing into the next, all lifted up for the parents, Lauren and Paul, in the last stages of laboring.

Just before 3:00 am, I heard faint bells ringing. They ring when a baby is born; at that moment, the bells pealed to announce Daniel Gunner Thurston’s arrival. Within the hour, I stood beside my 6’4” son as he held his 19” newborn with such gentleness. Soon, I too got to hold Daniel close to my heart. One so tiny burst out of his tiny womb-home, and a new generation in the family had arrived.

I am so excited to be Danny’s Grammie. As my mother used to tell young Paul, we’ll have many grand adventures together.

With my one-week old grandchild in my heart, I am more committed than ever to help create a world where all children and adults can live fully, wildly and boldly.

For me, that commitment used to hold an urgency. Seeing all that was so unjust and inequitable, I wanted things to change quickly.

I’ve learned that urgency only slows down the process.

Daniel reminds me of the mystery and grace of a life lived in both body and spirit—a life that can’t be rushed. Before I know it, he will also show me the awe of discovering the wonders of the world around us, the joy of playing and the natural flow of creativity.

As always, the flow of gift between the generations moves in all directions. As I hold Daniel, I can feel my ancestors, especially my parents, Sue and Ed, my grandparents Ann and John, Ruth and OR, great-grandparents Allie and Arthur … gathering around. Those long gone from this earth and this one so newly arrived all encourage me choose integrity, love, equity and respect in every moment. And to have fun along the way.

Daniel, and all of his generation, send out this summons to you and to me with their adorable sleeping faces, their lusty cries, and their innate desire for snuggling. I want to be a student of the seasoned teachings from the ancestors, from my colleagues and friends, from my own heart, and from Daniel’s baby’s delight. Together, we are all up for the task of living and loving our way into a beautiful world that values us all.

Grandmother Ann Takes the Lead

“I loved the idea of grandmother and granddaughter dancing together, plaiting beauty across the tears in the fabric of the world. Together we twirled, hoping beyond hope that our dance across the generations would serve those yet to come.”1

Ann Cahoon (Mathys)
Ann Cahoon (Mathys)

Ann Cahoon Mathys take the lead:

Unlike some of my ancestors, I avoided epidemics, early widowhood, shipwrecks, Texas and prisoner of war camps.2 Nevertheless, I shared my family’s determination to better life for myself and others.

After High School graduation, I bucked tradition and headed off to college. I graduated from Milwaukee Downer in 1913 with my Bachelor’s degree, and from University of Wisconsin in June of 1915.

I knew I was born for such a time as the opening years of the 20th century. From my family’s experience as Welch immigrants to my volunteer work at Milwaukee’s Settlement House, I understood that “my people/our people” included far more than my family or nation. Many families, like mine, came to this country in the midst of tragedy and poverty, needing a compassionate helping hand. I was glad to offer mine.

Personally, and through my teachers and fellow students, I also knew that the boundaries of intellect didn’t end at the edges of a man’s mind. Despite the belief that higher education was a waste of time for a woman, I couldn’t wait to become a scholar of both the intellect and the body.

The intellectual narrow-mindedness of the world around me also needed to expand politically. I joined other Wisconsin women to fight for our right to vote. I wanted to bring my wisdom and knowledge to the legislature and make a difference in the world.

Nancy, as a child and teenager, you thought I was a boring old woman, but now you know better. I am delighted that when you came to your senses, you too caught sight of the possibility of a just world. That is good, as you are living in the early years of the 21st century—a moment of history that is even more in need of awakening than mine.

Nancy follows Ann’s lead and steps into the dance:

Grandma, I have gladly stepped into your dance, plaiting justice and faith, compassion and equity. I know my approach and beliefs are different than yours, but we both loved to stretch the boundaries of our day and wanted to serve the larger community around us.

I knew so little about you when you were alive. Even when I walked across the stage to get my master’s degree—wearing the same gown you’d worn seventy years earlier—I knew little about the world outside my neighborhood.

I now see a bigger picture than I did during my university days. For example, I understand that doors opened for our educations because of our intelligence, to be sure, but also because of the color of our skin and the financial support from our family. Though today gender and race don’t usually affect admission, going to college too often results in substantial debt as well as a degree, strapping graduates financially for years.

The vote you helped secure wasn’t available to everyone for decades. Even today we battle voting irregularities and gerrymandering. The candidates on our ballots are just beginning to cross gender and color lines but have been much slower to cross class lines.

We as a nation seem to have forgotten that most of us came here as immigrants. Over the years our national racism controlled who was welcome—usually those with white skin—and who was not. We Americans enjoy the fruits of immigrants’ labor eating the food they grew, traveling the roads and railroad tracks they constructed, enjoying motel rooms and houses they cleaned—then turn around and threaten deportation, pay unjust wages or speak as if these newer immigrants are lazy.

In the midst of these two centuries, we’ve both listened for the song of justice playing beneath the inequities. This month it has been 125 years since your birth and 100 years since you graduated with your master’s degree. I am delighted to reach for your hand once more, and join you in the dance of Life.

1Thurston, Nancy, Big Topics at Midnight, page xviii

2Ann would love to share the details about these events at another time…