Category Archives: Friendship

In Memory Of….

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February 2019 is in the books now, along with Valentine’s Day. We widows don’t look forward to February 14th like we used to when our men were with us, but no widow ever forgets how things used to be.

Even though Nate was a big gift-giver, I don’t miss the gifts nearly as much as the giver… especially on February 14th.

This Valentine’s Day, however, included a lovely bright spot. I received a unique gift that was linked back to my favorite giver.

 

Linda is both an old and a new friend. We met 50 years ago in 1969, as newlyweds. What brought us together was our teaching assignments at the same southern Illinois grammar school. We carpooled that year and forged a happy friendship in the process.

After two years, though, she and I moved apart, and our lives filled with children, homes, and separate schedules. In a natural way, our friendship dimmed. But in 2017, we reconnected through my blog — and our friendship was reborn. It’s been rewarding getting to know each other all over again.

And that’s where Valentine’s Day comes in.

Collecting the mail one day, I wondered what a padded envelope from Linda might contain. Inside was a pretty Valentine card and a heartfelt note that had Nate’s name in it. She wrote, “I saw the thing that is in this package and thought instantly of you and Nate.”

I couldn’t imagine what it was but didn’t waste time guessing. Unrolling the red tissue, the first thing I saw was the back side of her gift. She’d written an inscription on the crème-colored stone, and these four words jumped out at me:

“In memory of Nate.”

 

It’s been years since anyone used those words in my hearing, and they touched me deeply, so much so that I broke into tears. No one remembers a man like his wife does, but knowing someone else was remembering him, too, surrounded me with comfort.

When I turned over Linda’s gift, I found a lacy red heart and the words, “I love our story.”

My sentiments exactly.

 

One widow friend told me recently the thing she most fears is that people will forget about her husband. With the passing of time, fewer friends mention him, and his face isn’t in any of their photos. No fresh stories surface about him, nor are there any memories that haven’t already been shared.

And maybe that’s why Linda’s gift meant so much to me. She suggested packing it away with my Valentine decorations, but I prefer keeping it next to Nate’s picture on my dresser, where I can see it every day.

“God loves a person who gives cheerfully.” (2 Corinthians 9:7)

Is that you?

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In August, my 12 grandchildren all came visiting, and for this grandma it was absolutely glorious. Normally these kids are separated by thousands of miles, and there are no words good enough to describe the deep satisfaction I felt when this pint-sized crowd came together.

Burned in my memory is the moment the two groups stood face-to-face for the first time – 6 from the UK, 6 from the USA. (Most were too little to remember a visit 4 years ago, and some hadn’t even been born yet.)

Thankfully, social media has allowed bits of communication between them over the years, but in that first meeting at my house this summer, the 12 of them stood looking at each other – in the flesh at last – and didn’t know what to say. It was a wow-moment I’ll never forget witnessing as they stood looking at each other without a word.

Then Skylar, the oldest at age 10 (on the right), pointed at one of her British cousins. “Are you Evelyn?” 

“Yes!” Evelyn said (on the left). “And you are…. Skylar?”

“Right!”

Laughter followed, along with further introductions, and as the encounter unfolded, I felt I’d been given a gift. The proof of its value was that I had goose-bumps on a hot summer day.

It didn’t take long for these 12 young relatives to link arms and run off together, ready to share in some brand new cousin-fun.

That night, while I was thanking God for these precious grandchildren, he gave me a special thought. One day I will meet Jesus – in the flesh at last – and there just might be some similarities to what I watched happen earlier that day as my grandkids met.

I already know some things about Jesus from Scripture, which is sort of like divine social media. I know him, but the two of us have never met in the flesh. And sometimes I try to imagine what that’ll be like.

The words to a song entitled “I can only imagine” are wondering the same thing:

Will I dance for you Jesus
Or in awe of You be still?
Will I stand in your presence
Or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing hallelujah
Will I be able to speak at all?

Though I’ve anticipated meeting Jesus my whole life, the only thing I know for sure is that when the moment comes, I’ll have goose-bumps…. no matter what the weather. When I stand in front of him, my guess is there will be a momentous silence like what my grands experienced. After that, our face to face meeting will surely prompt deep joy and maybe even some shared laughter.

And then, just like my 12, Jesus and I may hurry off together, arm-in-arm, ready to share in some brand new brother-sister fun.

“For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.” (1 Corinthians 13:12)

Chuckling with God

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Three FriendsWhile spending several days with two good friends in Phoenix, our non-stop chatting made me forget to check-in with Southwest Airlines on the last day. Southwest passengers board in the order of check-in, so that meant I’d be last in line…. and wouldn’t get a window seat. After staying up late each night (3:00 AM on my Eastern Time body clock), I looked forward to leaning against the window for a nap.

Southwest plane

At the airport, I checked in the old-fashioned way, confirming my tail-end boarding position. Maybe it wouldn’t be a full flight, I thought, but as boarding began, we were told it was.

I sat down to wait and decided to simply ask God for a window seat. “Would you save one for me, Father?”

Once on the plane, I slowly made my way down the aisle, looking right and left for God’s gift — but every seat was taken. Then all of a sudden, half way toward the back, I spotted an empty window seat. Two college-age girls occupied the aisle and center seats, but the window was empty.

“Is that one taken?” I said, pointing.

“No, but that’s only for someone willing to open the emergency door. You don’t want to sit there.”

“Actually, I do,” I said.

“But… I don’t think you heard me.” She said. “You would have to open that big door.”

Thinking I must look weaker than I felt, I said, “I’ll chance it.”

The two girls glanced at each other but stood to let me in.

Emergency ExitAfter smiling at them, I sat down, chuckling just loud enough for God to hear. He was probably chuckling too. After buckling my belt, I studied the exit door. It looked complicated, but I knew the safety folder in my seat pocket would explain.

Just as I found the instructions, a flight attendant leaned into our row. “Ma’m.” she said. “Please look up here.” She meant me.

“Ma’m, I think you’re unaware that you’re in a seat linked to an emergency exit door.”

“Yes,” I said. “I know,” holding up the folder. “See? I’m studying how to do it.”

Emergency folder“But would you be able to?” she said. I nodded with confidence, but she looked doubtful.

“Well….” she said, pausing for effect, “I’ll need your verbal affirmation.”

“I can handle it.”

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

 

She shook her head and moved on while I memorized steps 1-2-3 of door-opening technique, trying to set aside my own doubts.

Just then one of the two robust girls sitting next to me pulled out her own copy of the emergency folder…. and I knew she wasn’t planning to rely on any old lady in the event of an emergency. So I put my folder away and didn’t give it another thought.

Our flight passed without incident, and I appreciated not having to nap with my head hanging and bobbing. What I enjoyed even more than my window seat, though, was my private little chuckle with a generous heavenly Father.

“The living God… gives us richly all things to enjoy.” (1 Timothy 6:17)