Advice from Mary

Posted on October 13, 2016 by Margaret

A few days before Mary died, I was in my kitchen peeling apples to make two pies for her family. As I thought of my sister and the hundreds of apple pies she’d made over the years, I couldn’t help but smile. She would “throw them together” while carrying on a complete conversation with her guests…. all of whom would stand around the kitchen counter, fascinated by what she was doing. She never measured anything, just operated on instinct. And her pies always turned out perfectly.

Then suddenly, while remembering Mary and her pies, I started to cry – not over the memories but over a baking question.

I couldn’t remember whether or not I should put bits of butter atop the apples before adding the top crust, and I desperately wanted to ask my sister, the pie expert. But she was a few blocks away, lying quietly in her bed, in a deep sleep. And she couldn’t give me any advice.

After putting my pie in the oven, I went to spend time with Mary. She “let” me hold her relaxed hand, and I leaned close to her sleeping face so she could hear me. “This morning I couldn’t remember if I should add butter to my apple pie or not. What do you do?”

Of course she didn’t answer, but I continued. “Would bits of butter make it soupy or not? I really want my pie to turn out like yours.”

As she slept, I kept talking, reminding her of a camp auction years ago and a comical bidding war over an apple pie Mary had contributed. The winner had gladly paid $25 for it, testifying that he’d tasted Mary’s pies before and knew it would be worth the money.

Hoping Mary was silently giggling in her heart at that memory, I tried to make a soft giggle for both of us — but it wouldn’t come out. My vision was blurring again, and the process going on in front of me wasn’t the least bit funny. That’s when talking about apple pie suddenly seemed out of place.

So I just sat there, studying Mary’s pretty face, listening to her regular breathing. And flooding my mind were a hundred ways I was going to need my sister’s advice after she was gone.

That evening my apple pie did get eaten, but the second pie never got made. That pile of Granny Smith apples is still sitting on my kitchen counter as they had been that day before Mary died. Without her advice about the bits of butter, I don’t even want to make it. And now that she’s gone, heavy on my mind is something else: How many other questions did I fail to ask?

And now it’s too late.

“The righteous and the wise and their deeds are in the hand of God.” (Ecclesiastes 9:1)

Folding Laundry

Posted on October 6, 2016 by Margaret

This afternoon I was in my basement, folding laundry — and thinking about Mary. I’m always thinking about Mary, not just while doing wash. But my mind went back to a snippet of conversation we shared a week before her cancer got bad.

She was at my house, and we were chatting while I folded clean clothes. When I picked up a fitted sheet, she said, “Could you show me how to fold those things? I’ve never been able to do it right.”

Having watched Martha Stewart on TV years ago, I said, “Sure,” and showed her how the Queen of Homemaking did it: put one corner pocket into the next. Then fold both into the other two. Tuck the first two into the second two, and the sheet will loosely resemble a square. After that, the rest is easy.

“Let me try,” Mary said, taking the sheet away from me. As she folded and rolled and ended up with a big wrinkly ball, we both had a good laugh.

“Oh brother,” she said, handing it back to me. “I guess I’ll never get it.”

Today as I folded that same sheet and remembered our conversation, an important thought landed hard. It really doesn’t matter one bit that Mary never learned to fold a fitted sheet. She’ll never need to know.

On the heels of that, came this. How many hundreds of other things have I struggled to learn that I’ll never need to know?

Of course we have to function in a world of know-how, and if we don’t learn certain things (like brushing our teeth or driving a car) we’ll be at a disadvantage. But we ought to hold everything up against the standard of eternity before investing any money, time, or effort. We should ask ourselves, is this important to God?

If the answer is no, we need to proceed with caution. After all, it isn’t essential to have a shelf of perfectly-folded sheets. Mary lived her whole life without one.

“Your life is like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone.” (James 4:14)