He stood up

Memorial Day is a pretty special day.

   My father was very patriotic. He was the first young man from their community to enlist after Pearl Harbor and was in the Pacific for 43 months. He was in the Army Air Corps. That meant he was a little bit army and a little bit air force. He never lost that keen spirit of patriotism and our family and friends have agreed that he really was a part of what Tom Brokaw said was "The Greatest Generation".

   Even at the end of his life, daddy always wanted to be sure that mother or I had put the flag out - especially on a day like Memorial Day.

   I went to the World War II Memorial in Washington DC in 2005 and when I returned home, daddy was really filled with questions. I remember that he said if he ever got a chance to go, he was going.

   So, when he read about the Orange Park Rotary-sponsored trip for World War II veterans, he wasted no time at all checking it out. His trip would be paid for. He just needed to have a "chaperone".

   My son, Tray, who is daddy's #3 grandson, was all over that. He would love to go. He has inherited a lot of that same patriotic spirit that was a big part of daddy's life. Chad and Brad (grandsons #1 and 2 respectively) also share that spirit and all three of them have spent time serving our country.

    Daddy was so excited as they planned their trip. He supposed he might be the oldest person traveling (he wasn't) and was peeved as he waited for Tray to arrive for the ride to the Orange Park High School. My mother and I rode over for the pre-trip meeting and were there as they boarded the busses headed to JIA.When they arrived in DC, they were surprised when Chad and Brad arrived. Daddy was thrilled. All of his "soldier boys" were with him to honor him and his comrades. It truly was a day that none of them would forget.

  Tray called me several times during the day to give me a report. He would start to tell me something and get choked up. He would say, "I'll have to tell you that in a minute, mom." It would be when they got home that night, daddy a whipped puppy, but with a beaming smile, before Tray could tell me what he had been trying to say all day.

   "Here granddaddy was in a wheel chair," he said. "And every time a band would strike up that song - you know the one that features all the branches of the service...when they got to granddaddy's part, he stood up." 
   I didn't see this happen and yet I know exactly how it must have been. I can just see him. I know about the effort involved and the importance of this experience.  That was seven years ago.  This is our sixth year celebrating Memorial Day without our patriotic patriarch. The flag is flying and we have no doubt about what daddy would do when he heard this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zudFEvTj9H0

For the rest of my life

   A wonderful pianist named Bernie joined us at the Caregiver Expo last Saturday.  From early morning until mid-afternoon, the Grand Ballroom in the Herbert University Center was filled with "oldies and goodies", some classical, even some Greek renditions (especially for Toula Wootan).
   He asked me what my favorite song is and I could sing it but didn't know the name at first.  I said, "Anne Murray sang it; Rich and I danced to it, you know something about the rest of my life...".
   "I'll always remember the song they were playing, the first time we met and I knew..." as I started to sing, I remembered, the night Rich and I went to hear Anne Murray and the many times we loved to dance to that song.
   Such a romantic am I.
   So much so that on this date I am remembering some wonderful romances that I was a part of.
   One romance ended on this day in 1971.  That was the day that my mother and her sisters stood with their dad as my grandma Nesmith took her last breath.  I wasn't there.  But I have heard the stories again and again of granddaddy gathering his daughters to join him at her bedside and I 'll always remember the phone call I got that my grandma was gone.
   I had learned I was going to have a baby just 10 days before and I was so disappointed that grandma was never going to get to rock that child - who would be born a few months later on what would have been my grandma's 70th birthday.  I've always thought that to be a pretty cool deal.
   This is also a date of remembrance when I think of another romance that I was a part of.
   On May 20, 2005, my parents took a huge step when they moved in with me.  It was not an easy step for any of us.  I think it was hardest on daddy.  While he knew he needed to give up some control, it was so hard to do that to his eldest child.
   However, the next four yeas and four months were rewarding.  We thought my daddy was soon to die.  The move invigorated him.  It was a time that I will always remember.  And I will always be glad that I invited them to come.
   My grandparents shared their love and lives for 50 years; my parents for 67 years; Rich and I danced for 8 months and 4 days.
   Short time - but still "I'll always remember. . .".
   Memories are good.  However, we cannot live in the past, we cannot just keep "remembering".  
   We have to live . . .the rest of our lives.
  

Exquisite moments

   I love quotes.  I can spend much time enjoying Pinterest, reading the words and enjoying the graphics that have been used to emphasize the words.
   This should come as no surprise to anyone.  I'm always pulling quotes from my memory with a smart or  poignant remark that I'm hopeful proves whatever point I am endeavoring to prove.I talk about closed doors and open windows, always wonder what' was down in the well to come up in that bucket and am the proverbial - what goes 'round comes round person.
   My children know this and I have often been the recipient of a gift that has words inscribed.Such was the case this Mother's Day.
"I believe that every day should have at least one exquisite moment" (Audrey Hepburn -  talk about exquisite).
   The words made me start thinking - define exquisite.The excitement of my youngest grandchild, the one I call Radiant when the two of us meet; the way the grandson I call Caring - takes such good care of his great grandma; the voice of Effervescent, the laughter of Terrific, the smile on Glowing's face when the tennis match goes the way she wants, the sweet attitude of Awesome when faced with trials and the Amazement I felt when my eldest grandchild and I connected when she was 8 months old.      
   Obviously - I'm a bit enamored with my grandchildren. Almost as much as I always have been with my children.  I know I drive my friends a little crazy the way I can go on and on about them.  But I mean really - "have you met my children"?
   But there are other things I consider exquisite, The way the sun changes the dark outside my office window - the sounds of the birds, crickets and yes even the frogs in the early morning.
   An email from an old friend, a song that reminds me of a special time in my life; the smell of coffee brewing, a cup of tea in a china cup. Spell checking a document and seeing the words "no spelling errors"; a balanced checking account and finding a shirt on sale for much less than the outfit I am carrying in my hand.
   And then there was  a walk into a lobby where I heard "Savior Like a Shepherd Lead Us" on the piano before I accepted the offer of a piece of candy from the front desk receptionist.  It was a Goetze  - a confectioner sugar filling encircled by caramel.  And why was that an exquisite moment.  Because our daddy loved that hymn and that candy.
   Each of us will have a different definition of that word.
   What does it mean to you?

Hands on our hips

   Fifty years ago, I was finishing High School, planning to go to college.I remembered when I went to college in 1965.  Why in the world I chose to go to Bryan College in Dayton, Tennessee, I will never know.  Well actually I do know, it was part of God's plan for me, but from a logical standpoint that was not such a great move.  It was 1,000 miles away from home, an out of state college and we didn't know the first thing about student loans.
   But off to Tennessee I went - leaving my parents with three children still at home and my dad in a difficult time in the workplace.  I've felt guilty about that for many years.  HOWEVER...
   I knew I wanted to be a minister's wife.  As I have said many times, I might have becom minister myself had I lived in a different economy. It was the mid sixties, girls just didn't do that,
   So it wasn't that hard to drop out of college in the middle of my sophomore year and get married.My North Carolina born preacher boy had his third degree and we had three children before we divorced in 1983.
   And I had a few college courses behind me.
   Those children and I moved to Jacksonville and I took my first class at UNF in 1983.  Would I ever graduate?  I hoped so.  The circumstances of life took over.  College became the least of my worries.  I wondered if that silly comment about UNF - u never finish - would be my mantra.
   Until. . .
   Both of my daughters were in college.  Becca was at the University of Florida and Renee was at Stetson.  I was envious and must have been being verbal about it.
   Renee put her hands on her hips and made this statement: "I think you resent it that Becca and I are getting an education and you never completed yours".
   I put my hands on my hips and responded:  "I think you are right".
  And so it was that 13 years ago, I donned a cap and gown and walked into the UNF arena to the strains of Pomp and Circumstances.
   I looked up and saw a young woman waving her hands in the air.
   It was Renee and we knew.
   It was all about those hands on our hips.

Change their position

   How many times have you heard these words - "there is no time like the present?  The admonition of that question is that it's best to go ahead and complete whatever task is at hand.


   I recently enjoyed The Second Most Exotic Marigold Hotel.  There is no doubt in my mind but that I'll want to see it again and maybe again because when I go to a movie (especially one with lots of character actors) I seem to miss some of the best lines.  That would be one of the con's when determining if the book or the movie is better.  When one reads, it's easy (and doesn't cost any extra) to re-read.  That however, is not my goal as I put my thoughts into words, sentences and paragraphs today.


   Back to the movie.  Maggie Smith's wonderful character, Muriel, takes those words - "no time like the present" and changes their position -


   "There is no present like time".


   I am not going to spoil the movie for you - even though you probably can guess.  After all the guests at the Marigold Hotel have more memories than responsibilities.


   And in many ways what they have is TIME.


   Something Muriel is accepting as she would a present - a gift?  


   For my entire adult life I've been sort of like the white rabbit in the Disney presentation of Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland -  "I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date! No time to say hello, goodbye! I'm late! I'm late! I'm late!"


   Even if I wasn't really late, I seemed to think a busy life was the better way to be. I think was equating self worth with the amount of work I could get done.


   Last year I went on a cruise.  It was a lovely "get away".  However, as I reflected on it for many weeks and months I would say "but it didn't have a purpose".


   I certainly was missing the truth I later heard from Muriel's mouth.  And truth be told, it's something I have a hard time really claiming.  You can't change a leopard's spots.

   Or can you?

Only one life...

In my mind's eye I can still see it...
   A small crystal plaque that sat on one of the corner cabinets in grandparents' living room on which these words were inscribed:
   "Only one life will soon be past; only what's done for Christ will last".
   And why am I thinking of those words this morning?
   Between January 30 and May 16  of this year, I will have participated in FIVE special events.  Three down; two to go.
   And I truly enjoy each and every one of those events.
   This would be a good thing - since the words, Special Event Planner are often next to my name.
   And why do I do this?
   Is it because it's a way to supplement my Social Security?  Am I hoping to "meet someone"? Shouldn't I just be enjoying retirement?  Or do I JUST like being busy?
   Yes on the Social Security and yes I like doing something that has a purpose.
   But the bottom line is that when I was in the 9th grade I heard what a youth pastor whose name was Ted Place was saying and when he asked who wanted to surrender their lives to full time service to Christ, I stood up.
   A few years ago when I was complaining about some of the difficulty I was enduring another minister asked me a question.
   "Didn't you sign up?" 
   My quizzical response was met with "You know, like Isaiah".
   I remembered the Old Testament prophet's words: "Here I am, send me". And I remembered that day so many years ago when I stood up.  
   Somewhere deep within my spirit is a desire to do something meaningful with my life. - to make a difference - to put into practice those words that I remember from my grandparents' shelf.
Only one life will soon by past; Only what's done for Christ will last".
   The teen aged Paula thought that meant going to France as a missionary.  Paula as a college student thought it meant marrying a minister.  As a mother of three it meant teaching them to love and serve God.  And now as a grandmother on the minus side of 70?
   I still like those words on the shelf.
   I also like these that are found in The Message (a translation of Scripture)
Make the most of each day!  Whatever turns up, grab it and do it. And heartily"(Ecclesiastes 9:10)
   And that my friend, is why I do what I do.

The shepherd came home

   Vacation Bible School, 1955.  I was 8 years old.  My great aunt, Lila Newton was the storyteller for the Primary Department and every day for two weeks she stood at a flannelgraph board, dressed as a shepherd and taught us about the Twenty-third Psalm.  I guess that is when my love for shepherds was born.  It was also at about that time that my love for words was developing and even then, although I didn't understand the word, I understood the concept of a simile. 
   Through the years I have appreciated Dorothy Thupp's words set to William Bradbury's music in the hymn, "Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead Us" and I am pretty sure it's because I remember the way Aunt Lila taught me "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want..." (Psalm 23:1).
    Many years later as I  was looking for a Christmas 2008 gift for my daddy, my mother reminded me that he loved the 23rd Psalm and suggested a gift that would be an icon - something he could look at and find contentment.  We knew that daddy's health was waning.
   I found a statue of a shepherd, fashioned to look like Jesus - at least the way most artists have represented Him - with a staff, a sheep and one small lamb.
   At that time, daddy was still up and about right much, so the shepherd was placed in our living room on a table next to a recliner where he spent a lot of time.  Over time, the shepherd followed daddy to a bedside table and it was on that table when daddy died in September 2009.
   I have recalled that afternoon and remembered how special it was when the Rev. Kevin Pound personalized the 23rd Psalm with words like "we know that you are Earl's shepherd; that you have prepared a table for Earl...". etc.  I firmly believe that on that afternoon when my daddy died, he knew he was going to meet the Shepherd.
   The replica of the shepherd was placed on a shelf in my mothers' room and I'm sure it gave her some comfort.
   However, in September of 2013, my friend, John Gates, was diagnosed with Leukemia and I asked my mother if I could loan him daddy's shepherd.
   "Actually," my mother said, "that shepherd should be yours".
   John also loved the 23rd Psalm and he gratefully agreed to borrow it. I hoped it would bring him peace and contentment as he went through Chemotherapy.
   When I visited, I often saw the shepherd.
   I hoped there would be the time that he no longer needed it.  I hoped the Chemotherapy would be successful.  I hoped he would be coming home.
   He did.  For a while.  And then the time came that no amount of any medical treatment was going to help and in January he lost his valiant battle and I lost a dear friend.
   Last week as I visited with his wife, Diane, she handed me a bag.  It held the shepherd.
  And now, once more that shepherd is on a table in my living room.                                                
  Just waiting until someone else might need it.


http://www.hymnary.org/text/savior_like_a_shepherd_lead_us