An Eagle and an Arrow of Light

Last Christmas my father gave Jake a big box of his old Boy Scout gear. My father was a Boy Scout forever - an Eagle Scout. The box contains all kinds of treasures - now about half a century old. Half a century - how cool is that?

The kids were into the box of scouting stuff the other night while I was sewing a gorilla suit in the next room. Grace hadn’t really ever spent any time looking at it, so Jake was giving her the grand tour. Before long I heard, “Oh my God, I can’t even button them!” Jake had put on Dad's entire uniform: pants, shirt, cap, sash, scarf and scarf tie.

The pants were about 2 inches too long, but he could barely get them closed. He couldn’t tuck in the shirt. We’re curious and asked my father what age he thinks he was when he wore this? He was taller than Jake, but pretty darn skinny.

It's remarkable, isn't it, that all those uniform pieces still exist and are in perfect condition? In addition to these pieces, there are two short sleeved shirts and three other scarves from different levels of scouting. Not to mention the box of merit cards, pins, badges, pledge books and scouting guides and books. It's a small museum - a treasure trove of Papa's childhood.

One of the things I love most about all this stuff is that it's not only a window into my father's past, but also into my Grandmother's. She was the den leader for years and her initials and signature are on everything. Every merit card, every scouting book chapter, every document has her pencil mark of approval. Every item of clothing has a handsewn label with my father's name written in my grandmother's penmanship. It's obvious that she was very busy and involved with my father's den, and Boy Scouting took up a lot of their time and energy together.

I think about her whenever I see these things, whenever they are pulled out of the box again for examination. I'm always complaining about how busy I am, how I'm running running running all the time. She had three kids. My father was in the middle of two sisters. Grandma made everything too - not just the regular meals (served formally in the dining room with the silver and china), but also the mayonnaise, the jelly, the bread. Everything was from scratch. No Kraft mac and cheese. She sewed and mended and knitted, she gardened and cooked. She ferried kids to and fro, she pulled my young aunt through a battle with polio, she educated and tutored and reined in and let go, she fostered and reprimanded. She did everything we do, and then some. And, on top of all that, she was a loving wife and a talented painter.

I'm a mother of a Cub Scout. I know what kind of work goes into each of those badges and each of those pins. Just helping Dad to make his way through scouting was likely a full time job.

Whenever Jake takes out all these things and holds them, smells them, reads them, he keeps saying over and over, "Papa is SO cool."

Well, Grandma was pretty darn cool too. I'm so lucky I got to know her.