How do I define elderly? Elderly is relative. When my husband's grandmother was in the nursing home at 96 years of age, I asked her who she ate with. Her response, "Lena VanMeter, Bessie French, and two elderly women" How old do you have to be to see yourself as elderly?
This week there was a horrible car accident near here. The tv news broke in to regular programming and reported a car accident with two fatalities. Immediately the text messages started. Does anyone know who it was? Were there kids involved? Soon I started receiving texts from teacher friends. Yes, three teenagers were injured, but a couple was killed. Now, don't blame them; they were just relaying what they had heard. One said an "older" couple were killed. One said an "elderly" couple. My mind went to 75-85. That's my definition of elderly. Guess what, the couple was my age. That changed my perspective, I thought of their survivors. When I thought they were in their 70's, I was thinking of their mature children and young adult grandchildren who would have to deal with such a horrible accident. I figured they were retired, so their day-to-day circle of friends would be small. I even wondered if they had been advised not to be driving by their family who would have to deal with the grief combined with guilt.
When I think about a couple taken who are in their 50's, everything changes. Now I'm thinking of their co-workers, young adult children, young grandchildren, friends...the list goes on. What if that had been Tony and me? I certainly started thinking how much stuff we've accumulated that needs to be tossed. I don't want anyone to have to go through all that junk and wonder why we haven't thrown it away. I thought of my kids. Now, part of me was thinking how much I've missed Jason and how wonderful it would be to be with him, but Allison and Carson are still here. I want to stay to see where life takes them. I want to have grandchildren some day. I want to retire some day and see what that is like. I want to visit Ireland and Scotland and re-visit England. I want to go to Alaska and many other US states that I haven't visited. I really want to do of this before I'm "elderly." It may be too late.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Another Mother's Day
I've been thinking of my mom today. I went to early church because we were having lunch at Cindy and Randy's. Early church sings hymns which takes me back to my childhood memories of church. My mother led singing in church, so hymns remind me of her. Today's selections could have been sung in my church in the 60's. "Holy, Holy, Holy" "Are You Washed in the Blood?" "Amazing Grace" took me back. We didn't clap much in our church, but I remember when we did, Mom had a little extra rhythm, a tribute to her Pentecostal roots. She was such a sweet, demure lady that it was always a little funny to me to hear her clap so enthusiastically at church.
My mother was ahead of her time when it comes to her Christian convictions. Some of these things I've shared before, but they are worth repeating.
Once when a young, single lady in our church was expecting a baby "out-of-wedlock," some of the ladies of the church didn't want to give a shower at church, so my mom and my sisters gave the shower for the girl. It was well-attended and showered that baby with all the necessities that all babies need. That is a Christian witness that makes me proud.
When we went to the Free Will Baptist Convention in Indianapolis, there was a Guns and Roses concert on the same night as the big missions meeting. These events took place side-by-side in a downtown area. It was quite a sight to behold. Walking side-by-side down the sidewalks were men in suits, ladies in their Sunday best and a pretty rough looking crowd of young people going to the concert. We were driving around looking for a parking spot when we saw a young lady in a rather risque dress and obviously drunk or high. She was leaned up against a building and seemed to be struggling to make her way to the concert in her very high heels. My mom's response was, "Bless her heart." I was so proud that my ten year old daughter and her friend heard a seventy year old woman speak with a compassionate, Christian heart instead of an "I never" attitude.
Mom was a fun Granny. She was happiest when her house was full. One Christmas she and Dad bought Atari systems for all four of our families. My sister-in-law and I left our four kids with Granny to go to the after-Christmas sales. When we returned, the living room was a mess, and Granny was sitting on the floor with the kids playing Pac Man. Jason and Toby were so proud of themselves for teaching her to play a video game. If I ever get to be a Granny, I want to be that kind of Granny.
I think the most astonishing conversation I ever had with my mom was about two months before her death. She was diagnosed with polycythemia, a blood disorder, in 1988. In the summer of 1996, she was very ill, and we were going to OKC every week to a doctor's appointment. Her bloodwork was not looking good, and she and I were both facing realities that we didn't want to face. One day on the way home, my mom said, "I've prepared my whole life for this, and even if I've been wrong, I still believe that living my life by the teachings of Jesus is a better way to live." That's when I realized just how wise my mother was and how far away from her I was in my Christian walk. I'm a doubter, but I didn't know my mother was too. Her honesty was so refreshing to me, but I couldn't help thinking that she was way beyond me. I was a Christian because I wanted to go to heaven; she was a Christian because it was the right way to live.
I've said this many, many times, but its truth is evident. My mother is the voice in my head. I haven't talked to her since the summer of 1996, but her words and actions, her witness to me and my family, her abiding faith prepared me for the grief that has come to my life.
Mother's Day is a bittersweet day for me. I miss Mom, Phyllis, Linda, and Jason, but I put on that smile that my mom would want me to wear and hope that I can be one-half the witness to others that she was to me.
My mother was ahead of her time when it comes to her Christian convictions. Some of these things I've shared before, but they are worth repeating.
Once when a young, single lady in our church was expecting a baby "out-of-wedlock," some of the ladies of the church didn't want to give a shower at church, so my mom and my sisters gave the shower for the girl. It was well-attended and showered that baby with all the necessities that all babies need. That is a Christian witness that makes me proud.
When we went to the Free Will Baptist Convention in Indianapolis, there was a Guns and Roses concert on the same night as the big missions meeting. These events took place side-by-side in a downtown area. It was quite a sight to behold. Walking side-by-side down the sidewalks were men in suits, ladies in their Sunday best and a pretty rough looking crowd of young people going to the concert. We were driving around looking for a parking spot when we saw a young lady in a rather risque dress and obviously drunk or high. She was leaned up against a building and seemed to be struggling to make her way to the concert in her very high heels. My mom's response was, "Bless her heart." I was so proud that my ten year old daughter and her friend heard a seventy year old woman speak with a compassionate, Christian heart instead of an "I never" attitude.
Mom was a fun Granny. She was happiest when her house was full. One Christmas she and Dad bought Atari systems for all four of our families. My sister-in-law and I left our four kids with Granny to go to the after-Christmas sales. When we returned, the living room was a mess, and Granny was sitting on the floor with the kids playing Pac Man. Jason and Toby were so proud of themselves for teaching her to play a video game. If I ever get to be a Granny, I want to be that kind of Granny.
I think the most astonishing conversation I ever had with my mom was about two months before her death. She was diagnosed with polycythemia, a blood disorder, in 1988. In the summer of 1996, she was very ill, and we were going to OKC every week to a doctor's appointment. Her bloodwork was not looking good, and she and I were both facing realities that we didn't want to face. One day on the way home, my mom said, "I've prepared my whole life for this, and even if I've been wrong, I still believe that living my life by the teachings of Jesus is a better way to live." That's when I realized just how wise my mother was and how far away from her I was in my Christian walk. I'm a doubter, but I didn't know my mother was too. Her honesty was so refreshing to me, but I couldn't help thinking that she was way beyond me. I was a Christian because I wanted to go to heaven; she was a Christian because it was the right way to live.
I've said this many, many times, but its truth is evident. My mother is the voice in my head. I haven't talked to her since the summer of 1996, but her words and actions, her witness to me and my family, her abiding faith prepared me for the grief that has come to my life.
Mother's Day is a bittersweet day for me. I miss Mom, Phyllis, Linda, and Jason, but I put on that smile that my mom would want me to wear and hope that I can be one-half the witness to others that she was to me.
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