Where Is Thy Sting?

dad
Originally uploaded by Randuwa

I got a letter today, inside a belated Christmas card, from my longtime friend, B. B. grew up in my hometown. She and her family attended the church that I stumbled into in High School. A church that I, independent of my family, became of a member of -- and then it had a major influence on the college I attended as an undergraduate. It was a college at which B. was the assistant to the financial aide director and then the F. A. D. before retiring.

My need introduced me to her. My hometown ensured that we would become friends. Her spirit of joy transformed mere friendship into something truer.

The letter in her card told of the death of her sister, C. When she retired (a decade ago now) she returned to our hometown and moved in with C. and her husband. Like dresses cut from the same bolt of clothe, B. & C. were so much each other’s mirror images -- i.e. best friends; and C.'s husband E. is one of the most tender and generous men you're ever likely to meet. I'm sure they made a wonderful household for one another (and now, I have learned: a gracious hospice for C.'s final days.....)

Which brings me to this remembrance of B.

In August of 1986, I was preparing to begin my second year of teaching. I had been hired to teach 6th grade at an elementary school the previous year with the clear understanding that the county was moving to the "middle school" concept, and the local Junior High was to become a Middle School. Therefore, my colleagues, and I would find ourselves in a "new" building and a new configuration, as all 6th grades in the county were being smoushed into the new middle school.

On the Saturday, before the first Monday of school for me, I received a phone call from my sister informing me that my father had died suddenly in his sleep. Without any expectation, and he was only 65 having retired just 6 weeks prior....the news hit me like the proverbial "ton of bricks". I hardly knew what to do. Somehow, I found the where-with-all to call B. and ask her to contact local friends for me to share the news. She gladly accepted the role and then just before I hung up, made me promise to stop be her place before I left town. Numbly I agreed.

When I arrived she presented me with a bologna sandwich, an apple, some crackers, and a mason jar of water. Knowing that I was about to drive the 6 hours between our town in Kentucky and our hometown in Michigan, she made me promise to "eat something" acknowledging that I would not either think of that pedestrian activity or likely want to stop long enough to take care of this need.

In my entire life, I really can't imagine a nicer act of grace. And I've had my share of tender surprises in moments of distress.

May Light Perpetual shine upon C.!