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Monday, May 30, 2011
Grandma,
Recently, as I was going through boxes in storage to gather baby items for Jennifer's soon-to-be-arriving son, I came across an old, tattered, red scrapbook. This scrapbook had been through the ringer. It shows evidence of water damage and mildew. It has been packed, moved, and stored in five different houses over 15 years. Some of the writing has faded, some of the colors have bled, and some of the glue holding its contents has released, but the book is intact. And what it holds is priceless: the scraps of hopes and dreams of a little girl who was inspired by her grandmother.
On the cover is inscribed, "This scrapbook was given to me by my grandmother, who inspired me to write, sing, and create a life that is full and satisfying." The contents further illustrate the involvement that you had in shaping my desire to pursue my dreams.
The very first items, carefully pasted in the corner of the inside cover, are tickets to Crazy For You at Chanhassen Dinner Theatres (Aug 28, 1996). I remember this event as my first exposure to live theatre. It was a special outing for just you and I, as part of my 10th birthday stay-over. We had a little table in the front row, center. I had never heard a live orchestra, and suddenly the music was blasting forth from the pit, the snappy rhythms of George Gershwin. The chorus line of tap-dancing, sequined and feathered girls came out and I couldn't take it all in. At one point, they rolled a Model-T Ford onto the stage and I'm sure I looked at you in disbelief! There was such magic woven in the air that night, and it awoke something in me. I had seen movie musicals, and heard recordings, but nothing prepared me for the electricity that seemed to hop between the performers and out into the audience. I knew then, that if it was possible, I would be one of those people making sparks for other's enjoyment.
A page or so later, there is an envelope addressed to me from you, and postmarked July 30, 1997 . It contains a letter that was part of our correspondence concerning the list of summer activities we were going to have published in a magazine. I remember you setting me up at your computer and telling me to just go for it, to write as many ideas as I could think of. I wrote for a long time! But I learned an important lesson about creativity: you just have to let it flow and do your editing later. You didn't judge me, or try to tell me that the odds were against us ever publishing our article. Instead you taught me about creative process, collaboration, channeling ideas, and the assurance that every idea is valid and shouldn't be discouraged just because it's not pretty or finished yet. The confidence that gave me in my own talent (especially writing at that age) has continued to serve me well. When writing or learning a new song, when memorizing a new monologue or character, when figuring out blocking or costumes… I'm not discouraged when I have a few "bad ideas" at first. I know to keep trying, keep refining, and keep building on what I have.
Pasted about halfway into this scrapbook is a copy of a newspaper clipping from the Catholic Spirit (May 6, 1999). The article chronicles your efforts to promote The Cramer Foundation, the non-profit organization devoted to promoting Life in the Arts, Media, and Entertainment. It also advertises auditions for your Fall '99 Fun!Raiser. I am so glad that I had the opportunity to see you guys in action. I have heard many stories and seen some videos, but to actually witness the number of people and resources that you managed, the music you gathered, the scenes you blocked… It became very real to me and will live in my memory as a testament that It Is Possible.
Stuck in the very back is a bulky, grey folder with ribbons falling out of it. I wasn't sure what it was, until I realized it was the poster you had made for my graduation party (June 2004), deconstructed. As I went through the mound of pictures, I began to see myself through your eyes. They were scattered, not in chronological order. I saw glimpses of myself as a baby, eyes wide with promise and intelligence. As a young woman, accepting flowers on stage with the conductor of the St. Cloud Symphony Orchestra. As a middle-schooler, singing into a microphone wearing a sequined dress. As a little girl, with long, blonde hair, and your son gazing on in the background. As a teenager, going through an 'awkward' period, outgoing and opinionated, wearing flannels and cutoff shirts. As an elementary-schooler, playing violin as the family looks on. My eyes filled with tears as I saw myself, not as in a mirror, but as an amalgamation of all of these girls.
At every point in my development, when things could have gone horribly wrong, you were always there to reassure me, to validate me, to keep me going. At times, you were larger than life to me, a saint, with infinite wisdom, resources, and love. Now that I'm older I realize that you are just a woman, like me. But you are a woman who at every crossroads has decided to follow Jesus. In the dark times, and in the good times, you are a woman of God, and that has defined your life. You taught me that my talent is not my own, that my strength is not my own, that my life is not my own. If there is one thing that I should thank you for, it's that lesson. You showed me what is possible and necessary with a life in Christ. I will continue to strive for that.
I love you, Grandma. I have so much more to say about your cooking, your beauty, your fashion, decorating, kindness, sweetness, graciousness, hospitality, humility, generosity… I could go on. You're one heck of a WOOOOOMAN!
Happy 75th Birthday!
Your granddaughter,
Rebekah Anne (Cramer) Kreger
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