My Friend Ann's Mom

It was December and I was preparing to go on a cruise with my niece Taylor (finally celebrating her high school graduation that took place in June) when I got word that the decision had been made to stop treatments for my college roommate's Mom, who had been suffering from multiple ailments for far too long. She was not expected to live much longer. As we drove to Charleston to board our ship, Ann was driving from her home in Tampa with her husband and brother, to her hometown of Wallace, knowing her mom was going to die soon. While I knew I needed to be on that cruise, I admit to being frustrated with God's timing. Why was this happening when I could not be there, to comfort someone who has been my friend since the age of 18, and to pay tribute to a lady who had been a lovely part of my life since my college years?

I first met Ann's mom when we paid a surprise visit to her one Sunday when we were in college. We were hungry, in need of home cooking, and Ann said "Let's go home for Sunday lunch." I was a bit concerned that we didn't call first, that we would take her mom by surprise and there wouldn't be enough food, but still hopped in the car with Ann and we traveled from Chapel Hill to Wallace. The concern was unfounded. Her mom was thrilled. The house was full of both people and food, but we were honored guests. The food was plentiful. I was a bit in awe of the spread before us. There was her mom's amazing fried chicken, several other meats, potato salad and vegetables of all kinds, biscuits and fried cornbread and lots of sweet tea. I'd never had fried cornbread before and had not often eaten fried chicken (KFC was usually the only fried chicken consumed in our house. Except for that one time my daddy made fantastic fried chicken when my mom was in the hospital....but that is another story).  My Welsh mother only slightly embraced Southern cooking.

Even we starving college girls were full at the end of the meal. Ann's momma said "I love when someone comes for the first time and actually eats!"  It was not a backhanded Southern insult. She really did take pleasure in the fact that the food she fixed was enjoyed so much that any thoughts of polite denials for second portions went out the window. That was the first of many times of eating my fill of her chicken and potato salad.

There's a special bond with some of the parents of your close friends. On one hand you are just purely grateful to them for raising this magnificent person who is such a big part of your life. They're grateful to you for being a friend to their child. There's also a purity. None of the tension that is felt sometimes between parents and their children. They may have to tell you like it is (and most of the parents of my friends that I am close to are that type, for some reason), but you listen to their words with emotions that don't get out of hand. You know they care for you and want the best for you, but that caring doesn't seem to be conditional.

I'd last seen Ann's mom in the fall, stopping for a quick Sunday visit on my way home from visiting friends. I was a bit nervous. I knew there were days she got very confused and I wondered if she would know who I was. I walked into the skilled nursing center she had been placed in, and she was sitting in a wheelchair, slumped down over the tray in front. I very hesitantly said "Mrs. Brock, do you know who I am." She looked a bit stunned and confused so I thought the answer was going to be "no". But she said "Kim!", with pleased astonishment in her voice. Then "JC (Mr. Brock, Ann's father) is going to hate that he missed you."

We had a great visit. They brought her lunch in when I was there and she would barely eat a bite, even with my encouragement. I finally had to acknowledge that after a lifetime of her own cooking, this institutional food was lacking. Which got us talking about all the meals we had shared together. We found reasons to laugh. We talked a bit about her life now. I could tell she hated not being able to care for herself and others. She had never been in that position before, and I think she missed her purpose. As wonderful as the time with her was, it was difficult not to be sad on her behalf. Still, to me there was so much life in her. She always had such a spunky spirit, which she passed on to Ann. That spirit was still evident, but was also weary.

I still can't conceive of the fact that I won't see her again on this earth. That my dear friend no longer has her loving, but exasperating, mother.

It will be in the simple things I will remember her. I doubt I will ever eat fried chicken and potato salad without thinking of her, for instance. Possibly a strange memorial, but one that I believe would make her smile. There was love in that food and she passed much on to me.

Taylor and I left on our cruise on Saturday, Ann's mom died Sunday morning. Ann and her brother Ronnie made it there in time. God knew the number of hairs on Frances Brock's head and the number of days she would live on this earth.  He knew I wouldn't be there at the end for her or for Ann, and for whatever reason He allowed that to happen. He provided for them both quite sufficiently. But my relationship with Mrs. Brock, built on her kindness and her gift of hospitality, is part of who I am. 

I thought of her often when I was traveling around the beautiful Caribbean. It was a reminder that life is short, and that we should fill our days with good people and good experiences. We should enjoy the simple times of good companionship, as we eat and drink together. Those are the times that fill us, not just with food and drink, but with love and memories.  And that love and those memories, will outlast our life on this earth. 

Dance with joy in heaven, Mrs. Brock. I love you! Thank you for the gift of your daughter and thank you for loving me.

Raising Fools and Being Fools

Day 17 in Proverbs 

Proverbs 17: 5 “By insulting the poor, you insult your Creator.  You will be punished if you make fun of someone in trouble.” 

Proverbs 17:21 “It’s never pleasant to be the parent of a fool and have nothing but pain.”

Proverbs 17:25  “Foolish children bring sorrow to their father and pain to their mother.  It isn’t fair to punish the innocent and those who do right.”

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s bad enough when we forget the poor, and quite often we do, but to insult them?  Theoretically we can see it as wrong, and many would say they don’t do it.  But we do it in so many ways.

When was the last time you were visiting in a “bad” neighborhood?  (Smiling because I know some of my friends have been there....but know others avoid it like the plague!)  Why is that the case?  Having lived in what would be considered a bad neighborhood at points in my life, I probably don't notice quite as easily as everyone else. Usually I only know what the "bad" neighborhoods are because someone tells me.  Like when someone told me that if you lived down the street from the homeless shelter, that meant you probably were in one.  Yes, I happened to be living down the street from the homeless shelter at the time.  (What can I say?  Everyone was nice to me!  Who knew?)  I do recognize that my neighborhood now would be considered "good" by most.....and I have a high degree of confidence that when I leave for an hour (or a week) all my stuff will be here when I return.  I forget sometimes that I am blessed....and that the lack of anxiety in this area is not shared by all.  

I also have realized lately that my life has become insulated....at my own hand....and I am not rubbing shoulders with those who live in different kinds of neighborhoods at all.  It's on my 'to do" list to change.  I don't want to become someone who is unbalanced and starts to feel entitled.  Plus I don't want to be someone who doesn't pass on some of the "secrets."  I still believe most people in this country can live a really good life.....if they really want it.  I recognize that some don't.  But some do and they need mentors.  And at least some of those mentors need to be those of us who have led a cushy life in comparison (often just because of the family in which we were born.) 

When was the last time you made jokes about someone panhandling on the side of the road?   Yes, I have done this.....and even knowing that the backstories of some of the particular people are not always what they appear to be.   A homeless guy told me once that drug and alcohol abuse accounts for over 90% of homelessness.  I believe him.  Often drugs and alcohol impact the lives of people in such a way that disgusts us.  That disgust overrides the compassion.....and we don't really see them as people.  Because we have not been in that place....or maybe sometimes because we were there or close to there and brought ourselves out of it.....we just see them as weak.  Not the drugs and the alcohol as powerful.  And they are so powerful.....especially to people with certain blood chemistry.  The spiral happens to those even from the best neighborhoods.

When was the last time you made a disparaging comment about someone who was poor....and not spending their money the way you would spend that money?  We forget that managing money is a skill, and sometimes people have never learned it.  They live day to day, spending as they go.  When bad times hit, they have no reserves.  They go in debt, and rent money.  And renting money is even more expensive when you don't have money.  It is a cycle that goes on and on.  Through generations.  And people give up....and want something special for themselves, so they buy it.  Even when it doesn't seem to make sense.  Unless someone leads them out and teaches them how to get out, it usually doesn't stop.  It takes work and desire on their part....and encouragement on ours. 

One of my best gifts ever came from a guy in DC who was formerly homeless, but had picked himself up (with help that was offered), and afterward ordered his life so he could go back and volunteer to help others who had been in his circumstance.  He was involved in a program that provided a prayer breakfast for homeless people every day, then that developed leaders amongst them by getting them involved in small group Bible studies and accountability groups.  This program also got donations for and ran a food and clothes closet where people could come once a week and get these essential things they needed to survive.  I worked there with him for a week and on my last day he arrived with a beautiful pink carnation for me.  I knew it was a sacrifice for him to buy it, but he wanted to give to me.  I loved it.  I believe that was why he was successful....because he looked for ways to give back.  And it was so touching to me, and so encouraging, to be a recipient of a gift from him.  Long after it had faded and withered, it remained a symbol to me that being poor is not an unchangeable circumstance, that it can happen to even smart and nice people, that reaching out your hand can mean the difference in a life, that being able to work and be productive is a good and necessary thing,  and that giving back is a critical part of the cycle of thankfulness.  Making fun of someone in trouble?  I hope that it is never me.  I'd rather be the one cheering them on.....and seeing them succeed.

How are you teaching your children?  What are the other people you are exposing them to in their lives teaching them?  To me hearing the insults to the poor are all the more tragic when they come from what should be the sweet and tender hearts of children.   I hate when children notice the haves and the have nots, think they are "haves" because they are better than the "have nots", and especially when they are not willing to share their stuff.  That often comes from parental teaching....or lack of correction.  Sometimes it comes from a warped heart.  I included the verses about fools because we can become fools because of the teaching of our parents, or in spite of it.  But if you are a parent doing your job well, or who has done your job well, it should matter to you how your children view these things.   Regardless of their age.  You should feel actual pain when your child is a fool.  You should notice.  Because as a parent it is your job to teach....and to pay attention to who they really are and not just who you want them to be.

We insult the poor when we don't acknowledge the source of their poverty. We insult the poor when we don't give them the tools to change their status.  We insult the poor when we don't share our stuff.....and realize that the difference is not usually the material things, but our education.  We insult the poor when we provide only food and shelter to them, but not drug and alcohol rehab.  We insult the poor when we give, but don't let them give back to us (we dehumanize them.)  We insult the poor when we don't teach the concept of reaping what you sow, and work on giving them tools to sow seeds to reap good things in their life.  We insult the poor when we don't look on them with hope.  We insult the poor when we don't notice they are there.  We insult the poor when we don't see ourselves in them.  And when we insult the poor, we insult the God who created them.  It does not go unnoticed.