Category Archives: Saying Goodbye

Young Love (#8)

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Life bounced along at a happy pace through Christmas, as I enjoyed the attentions of one long-distance guy and another up-close one. Both relationships were moving forward, and I didn’t see any potential conflict. I even entertained thoughts of what it might be like to be married to one or the other, but didn’t try to choose.

It had been a year since I’d seen Nate, and as Dec. 27 approached, I grew more and more excited…

…until an unexpected phone call knocked me for a loop.

getting-readyIt was Dec. 26, the day before Nate was to arrive, and when I picked up the phone, my heart stopped. It was my old boyfriend. Though it had been 9 weeks since our traumatic break-up, when I heard his voice, I melted. He asked if I might want to get together that evening, just as “friends,” and in a swirl of confused but lovely feelings, I said yes.

Since there are no letters written about that night, I’ll quote from my journal:

Dec. 26, 1968 – We went out to dinner at our favorite restaurant, and it was just like old times – beautiful. Since we were now “good friends,” he was eager to tell me about his new girlfriend. As he confided in me, I had all I could do to keep my jealous feelings in check. I had to silently pray for constant support.

He told me they were making plans to move in together. Though I knew I shouldn’t have been wounded by that news (after all, we were broken up), it absolutely crushed me.

But after he was done mentioning “her,” I enjoyed every minute, relishing the time with him. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He told me he’d have to leave my house by 1:00 AM that night, but at 3:30 we were still talking. When we finally hugged goodbye, it felt good to be wrapped in his arms again. He told me he still “liked me a lot” and hoped we could have many more get-togethers. He left close to 4:00 AM.

I don’t feel much like seeing Nate tomorrow. I’ll have to really work at it. I’ve just got to get a positive attitude before then, or it’ll flop badly.

broken-heartDec. 27, 1968 – Nate comes today, but this morning all I can think about is (my old boyfriend). But I figured out that his new girlfriend is the one factor preventing me from going back to him and laying my heart at his feet, which would be an utter fatality. So, I see that she is the Lord’s answer to my prayers, His preventive medicine for me, and I absolutely must swallow it. It’s agony! But it’s 100% effective…

“This is the confidence that we have toward Him, that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. And if we know that He hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have the requests that we have asked of Him.” (1 John 5:14-15)

Young Love (#4)

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As the summer of 1968 moved into autumn, the Vietnam War dominated our nightly news. Nate went back to law school, continuing with his ROTC commitment, and I went back to teaching kindergarten in Chicago.

It was a tumultuous time for our nation with violence erupting even on college campuses, but Vietnam wasn’t the only war going on.

On a more finite level, I was experiencing my own inner war, attempting to handle an 18-month relationship with someone I should never have fallen in love with in the first place. But knowing what’s right and acting on it can be miles apart. Meanwhile, the letters between Nate and I became more frequent.

thoughtfulSept. 10, 1968 – Dear Meg. Thank you for your letter. I applied for and have now become a graduate advisor in an undergrad dorm, which at the moment has me rather nervous. There was a demonstration at the student union; police arrested 300 students. This makes me quite edgy. I would like to come to Chicago, but this job leaves me few weekends. I definitely would like to see you again. Absolutely love to.

Sept. 19, 1968 – Nate, you sound like you have your hands full down there! We heard all about the arrests on the news. Be careful! Tonight I’m miserable with 102 degree fever.

Oct. 17, 1968 – I am very sorry to hear of your sickness. Take all your medicine and sleep a lot. And read your Bible, little girl. This counseling job has a million men (actually 72) depending on me at different times for many things. Such as letting drunk boys in their rooms at dawn. Be good and rest, my little vixen.

thinkingOct. 20, 1968 – Dear Nate. Your letter came at an opportune moment. Today is a blue day for me. I’m through with my strep throat, but I’m really going buggy. I think my dating (the other guy) is dragging me away from the joy of the Lord. There is a constant struggle within me to tell him we should break up and not even be friends, and then in the next minute we are arranging another date. Inside, I know it’s useless, actually detrimental, to keep our relationship going. But don’t worry about me. I’m trying to let the Lord handle the whole situation, even whatever is happening in my mind about (him)…. and also about you. I know I have been trying your patience, and I apologize. P.S. What does “vixen” mean?

Oct. 25, 1968 – “Vixen” means she-fox, beautiful and sly. When you write that you’re upset about (the guy’s) soul, I only can tell you to resolve it with your faith, which I think is stronger than love of any man. And let common sense tell you that snap decisions lead to unhappiness. If you don’t want to quit dating (him), at least date someone else, too.

Oct. 31, 1968 – Nate, thank you so much for your last letter. I have read it over and over, and its encouraging nature was a terrific aid to me. (The other guy) and I are totally finished as of one week ago. The initial grief was shattering. In idle moments I still find my mind wandering to, “Oh, if only…” When the heaviness of the heartache eventually lets up, I hope I will consider myself better off for having gone through it. I’m relieved that the break has been made. (He) opposed it, which made it worse for me, but thank goodness the Lord was backing me up… and people like you.

“Love does not dishonor others.” (1 Corinthians 13:5)

Collecting Jewels

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Today was a beautiful beach day, something special for Michigan in mid-October. Though the water was cold, the sand was warm, and I had no trouble setting aside my chores for an hour at my favorite place.

Arriving without my beach-buddy of 70+ years, I missed Mary more than ever. But the rhythm of the waves brought comfort, and as I sat in the sun with my eyes closed, my mind drifted back to February of 2014. When Mary received her diagnosis, we heard the word “pancreatic” and jumped to the conclusion she had only 42 days to live…. as Nate had.

But God did it differently this time. We were blessed with three more summers with Mary.

I’m deeply grateful for those bonus beach days next to my sister and for all the words that passed between us during those months – hundreds of conversations we didn’t anticipate having. And as I thought about that today, I knew God was nudging me to feel grateful rather than gloomy.

beach-stonesSo I got up and did something Mary and I had done every summer of our lives. I walked the shoreline hunting for pretty stones, filling a small bag in no time. The way we viewed it, certain rocks were as stunning as jewels, and we have stone-laden shelves, drawers, and closet floors to prove it.

About a week before Mary began her rapid decline, she texted me one morning. “Want to come over and glue some stones?”

When I arrived she was struggling to create a stone-covered votive candle holder.  The challenge was to glue the narrow sides of the rocks to the glass rather than their flat sides. But the stones kept sliding away, ending in one gooey mess after another.

Finally we decided to turn the holder upside-down and start backwards, letting the stones rest on each other as we built them from bottom to the top – which was actually top to bottom. And it worked!

img_4015After making two votives, we celebrated by consuming half a watermelon between us. Neither of us knew this would be our last stoning project, because in less than a month Mary would be gone.

Today, as I walked along, all I could think about was my sister, who was far, far away. While I was picking up rocks, what was she doing?

Then God reminded me that Scripture mentions a “sea like crystal” in heaven, which means there’s probably a beach there, too. Is it possible that every stone on that beach, every grain of celestial sand, is an actual jewel, sparkling in the light of the Son? If that’s true, then I think I can safely say I know what Mary was doing today.

“In front of the throne there was what looked like a sea of glass, clear as crystal.” (Revelation 4:6)