I do my best thinking when I'm doing yard work. I'm sweaty, dirty and smell like a pig, but I can't get my friend off my mind.
My friend's mother has Alzheimer's. This friend, though her father is still living, is the main caretaker of her mother. She and I have talked about this a lot lately as I've been helping my elderly in-laws through an illness myself. This disease has robbed her mother of lots of things - the ability to really take care of herself, the ability to cook for her husband, the ability to sew like she once did, the ability to drive and most of all the ability to love on her daughter the way she once did.
This friend is going through a lot right now in her own family. She is about to become an empty nester and is having to deal with all the emotions that come with this new chapter in her life. Believe me, this chapter might be hardest one of all for mothers who have given their lives to raising their children.
She said that she usually doesn't invite her mother over for dinner anymore as it is just too hard, but this particular night she just needed her mother. She said that when she got there that she just laid her head on her Mama and poured her heart out to her. Sadly, her Mama didn't understand what was going on, but she did tell her, "It will be alright."
No matter how old we get, we still need our Mamas/Grandmamas. I remember so well after my grandmother had her stroke, she was sitting on the couch and I went and laid down on the couch and put my head in Grandma's lap. I didn't care that I was in my forties, for a brief moment I was ten again. I remember thinking that I may not ever get that chance again. And I didn't. I can almost still feel that soft lap that had held my head so many times, but especially that last one.
I guess the lesson we can learn from this is just to love them while we have them.
Check out http://www.alz.org/. This website has lots of information on the disease.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Heritage
Today's Sunday School lesson was about remembering our religious heritage and to keep that heritage going for our families. I got to thinking about growing up and going to church with my own grandparents. My Mama and I would pick up my Granddaddy and Grandma and take them to Martin's Congregational Holiness Church in Double Branches. Grandma would always wear a pin in front of her dress and would wear her hair in a bun on the back of her head. I remember her hair being very thick, long and gray and always up in that bun.
We would arrive at church in time for Sunday School. My shoes always, always, always hurt my feet. It seemed my feet grew faster than Mama bought new ones. I wore those frilly socks with patent leather shoes. Mama would pin curl my hair and on Easter I would even wear a hat and gloves. I still love hats and gloves!
We never sat with Grandma and Granddaddy at church. Grandma sat on the left of the church with women her age over near the piano and Grandaddy would sit on the right near the front doors with some of the men his own age. Mama and I usually sat on the right of the church a few rows from the back of the church.
Cullen Hicks was the preacher there. I just loved him. He wasn't a large man, had crow black hair that was always slicked back in his preacher's do. I remember him being so kind and even though he was human, I couldn't imagine him any other way than the way I saw him on Sunday.
The choir was located on the far left of the church. The choir pews actually faced the pulpit and not the congregation. Back then folks didn't wear choir robes, but all the members were polished in their Sunday best. Being a pentecostal church, the songs were nearly always upbeat and spirit filled. I still love the old hymnals and find myself singing them even now.
After the choir had sung a song or so, Brother Cullen, would come to the pulpit and preach a fire and damnation sermon. After the sermon there was the alter call. Folks from all over the church would go forward and kneel around the alter and pray. I can't remember if the piano player was Shirley Holloway or if she played the organ, but I do remember she was a Godly spirit filled woman. The other musician was Nan Wallace. Boy, oh, Boy....I can remember her getting the spirit! There seemed to be somebody dancing in the spirit or speaking in tongues every service. No one was particularly eager to get home to Sunday dinner. I don't ever remember getting home early.
The churches during the seventies were different than today. Today we are "tolerant" of behavior, dress, and customs unlike those we grew up with. Then, the churches weren't "tolerant" of anything outside of what the church doctrines professed. Women couldn't wear makeup, they all wore the beehive hair-dos and gays surely would have been thrown out on their heads. Football games were frowned upon and mercy to your soul if you were ever caught tasting whiskey. While we may have gone too far in the other direction, that old church failed their members/attenders by maybe just not loving them enough. I sure hope God doesn't throw me out of heaven due to my choice of wearing makeup or going to a football game. God's love and mercy are so very great. I had to have children of my own to even gain some minute insight into how much we are loved.
We would arrive at church in time for Sunday School. My shoes always, always, always hurt my feet. It seemed my feet grew faster than Mama bought new ones. I wore those frilly socks with patent leather shoes. Mama would pin curl my hair and on Easter I would even wear a hat and gloves. I still love hats and gloves!
We never sat with Grandma and Granddaddy at church. Grandma sat on the left of the church with women her age over near the piano and Grandaddy would sit on the right near the front doors with some of the men his own age. Mama and I usually sat on the right of the church a few rows from the back of the church.
Cullen Hicks was the preacher there. I just loved him. He wasn't a large man, had crow black hair that was always slicked back in his preacher's do. I remember him being so kind and even though he was human, I couldn't imagine him any other way than the way I saw him on Sunday.
The choir was located on the far left of the church. The choir pews actually faced the pulpit and not the congregation. Back then folks didn't wear choir robes, but all the members were polished in their Sunday best. Being a pentecostal church, the songs were nearly always upbeat and spirit filled. I still love the old hymnals and find myself singing them even now.
After the choir had sung a song or so, Brother Cullen, would come to the pulpit and preach a fire and damnation sermon. After the sermon there was the alter call. Folks from all over the church would go forward and kneel around the alter and pray. I can't remember if the piano player was Shirley Holloway or if she played the organ, but I do remember she was a Godly spirit filled woman. The other musician was Nan Wallace. Boy, oh, Boy....I can remember her getting the spirit! There seemed to be somebody dancing in the spirit or speaking in tongues every service. No one was particularly eager to get home to Sunday dinner. I don't ever remember getting home early.
The churches during the seventies were different than today. Today we are "tolerant" of behavior, dress, and customs unlike those we grew up with. Then, the churches weren't "tolerant" of anything outside of what the church doctrines professed. Women couldn't wear makeup, they all wore the beehive hair-dos and gays surely would have been thrown out on their heads. Football games were frowned upon and mercy to your soul if you were ever caught tasting whiskey. While we may have gone too far in the other direction, that old church failed their members/attenders by maybe just not loving them enough. I sure hope God doesn't throw me out of heaven due to my choice of wearing makeup or going to a football game. God's love and mercy are so very great. I had to have children of my own to even gain some minute insight into how much we are loved.
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