Last week we were invited to the birthday party of a frail and feisty woman in our church who’s on hospice care. Her family had come in from around the country to laugh, cook, tell stories, and revisit the memories that had brought them to that day.
They outdid themselves in organizing a repast that featured six kinds of meat, numerous side dishes, birthday cake and two varieties of cheesecake. One of the great truths of life is that there is nothing half as good as good Southern cooking.
Midway through the food and festivities, I asked Steve to take a picture of Frances and me. He got about half a dozen shots and in every one of them, Miss Frances was giving him the what for. The two of them are always kidding each other and trading friendly jabs; you can tell in this photo that she is letting another one fly. Frances is one fun and spunky lady.
Between the food and the people and the laughter, between all the grands and the great-grands, there was one moment that stood out from the rest, the moment when we all assembled in the dining room to sing Happy Birthday. The gathered voices all blended together beautifully up until one particular place in the song when the musical unity disintegrated into what can only be called a glorious cacophony.
It happened when we arrived at the words, “Happy birthday, dear __________ .” For the briefest second, the blank space hung in the air until the sudden influx of words, “Mom. Grandma, Miss Frances,” all rushed in to fill it up.
Tears came to my eyes as I realized how beautifully each of those words represented a unique meaning, a meaning made personal by the relationship each person had with that grand lady in the seat of honor.
The various names we sang for the one we loved filled up not only that specific moment but also all the moments to come when Frances will no longer be there to listen.
I was so grateful to be a part of those moments.
I was grateful for the chaos and the conversation, grateful for the cake, for the laughter and the banter–especially between Steve and Miss Frances. I was grateful for the exuberant children and the smiling adults. I was grateful for the chance to meet new people and to be stitched, however briefly, into the memories of that dear family.
But mostly I was thankful for Miss Frances and the glorious cacophony that served as a serenade for the steps at the end of her journey. She will leave this life knowing she was cherished by so many. She will leave this life with the voices of those she holds dear still ringing in her ears.
She will leave this life in the company of the glorious cacophony of love.
What about you? Is there an elderly person in your life who is an extra special addition to your life?
What is it about them that you especially love?
My two favorite elderly people happened to be my oldest brother’s ex-in-laws. I always spent Sunday afternoons at their house playing cards, reading books and singing with Reggie at the top of our lungs (much to the dismay of Mrs. Beauchamp). 🙂 Why I called them Reggie and Mrs. Beauchamp and not Mr and Mrs Beauchamp or Reggie and Eulie, I do not know but they were the funniest elderly people I knew. I cam remember going to the visitation when Reggie passed away and telling my husband that I wouldn’t be long and I ended up staying until the visitation was over just telling story after story. Seeing Mrs. Beauchamp in tears of laughter instead of tears of sorrow made my heart smile. Remembering the good times is what life is all about. Miss Frances’ looks like quite the character in the pictures and I am sure there will be many tears of laughter shared about her.
Mel,
I love the whole “Reggie and Mrs. Beauchamp” thing. It sounds like the title of a comedy! 🙂
And it also sounds like it perfectly described them who they were: quirky, funny and dear. You have been blessed to have had them in your life.
What a beautiful post about a beautiful party for a beautiful woman! I bet all the love meant so much to her!
I am especially close to my grandmother- Grandma Frances Horne. In 17 days, she will turn 102 years old. It amazes me to think that she was born in 1915- during the first world war. Her parents had 14 children (11 survived childhood), and they all lived in a little one-roomed log cabin on a farm! They drove horses and wagons, not cars. Grandma’s childhood was very difficult, and when she was about 12 years old, all the daughters in the family were taken into foster care.
However, foster care in those days was not what it is today. My grandmother was given to a very wealthy family to be their unpaid servant. She survived all the difficulties and grew up to become the most loving woman I’ve ever met. She became a foster mom herself so that she could make a difference for children in need. It is because of her love that I grew up to be someone who could love others. She is one of my favourite people in the world. She has severe dementia and has been so frail for years- but I’m just so thankful to God that she is still here and present in my life.
I worry often about what I will do after she passes- and given her age and health issues I try to prepare myself for that eventuality. But she has been my “safe person” in my life since the day I was born- and I really know that I will not be okay for a long long time afterwards. I try to prepare myself- but I’m really not sure how to do that. All I can do is cherish every moment God blesses with me to spend with her, and to shower her with as much love as I possibly can. It is an honour, a privilege, and a treasure from God to have her in my life.
What an amazing story!
The thought of 16 people living in a one-room cabin is beyond my comprehension. And then to go from there to being an unpaid servant at the age of twelve? Grandma Horne must have dug way, waaaay down to find the strength she needed for those kinds of growing up experiences.
And that is what makes her the amazing woman she is today–the tough times she went through gave her the tenderness and compassion that marks her life and her days. Even in the throes of dementia, you can’t hide the character of a person underneath.
I love that you call her your “safe person.” There is not a greater honor you could give someone.
I have one aunt on my Daddy’s side of the family. She is 92 and is having trouble remembering things. I try to take her with me to the post office and to get gas for the car just to get her out. She is frail and I realize she will not be with us much longer. She will have to move or God will take her home. I will have no regrets but will miss our time together. She lives alone at this time.
Ann,
I know how much it must mean to her to have you take her on those small, simple outings. Just to know that she is not forgotten, that she is loved and cared for must fill her heart with joy. Thank you for making such a difference in the life of this sweet lady.
In the village I grew up in there was a woman named Mary Virginia Goodman Morgan Goodman (not clear on the details to that). She was quite a character at barely 4’6″. By the time I was a teenager she was up there in years. She had been a teacher, world traveler, historical column writer for the paper … the stories she could tell! I had her for a substitute teacher in junior high school and was the only one who knew to sit and keep my mouth shut unless asked otherwise. A few of the boys learned quickly that she didn’t take guff from anyone of any age. I became her neighbor in my 20s and it was always a interesting time talking with her. She’s long gone now, but I was reminded of her while car shopping this summer. My salesman was a good friend and lived in the same village. We hopped in a car to test drive and I started laughing. I could barely see over the steering wheel and all I could say was, “I just need Mary Virginia’s hat!” Both of us dissolved into peals of laugher because when Mary Virginia was driving all you could ever see was her signature BIG hat looking like it sat on the steering wheel!
Guerrina,
Oh my. LOVED the hat story. I can just picture a car going down the road being driven by a hat. And the fact that you AND the salesman knew the context of the comment makes the moment all the more priceless.
I know Mary Virginia would be thrilled to know that her legacy continues and joy still comes when her name is mentioned. She sounds like an amazing lady.
Loved hearing about a family honoring their mom/grandma. Sounds like a lovely group!
My favorite older person is our mom, JoAnn Campbell! I admire and hope to emulate her sweet spirit, rock solid faith, courage, generosity and humor. Plus she raised 6 kids and came out of the fray standing! ?
Love, Deb
Deb,
Well, isn’t that amazing that YOUR favorite older person is also MY favorite older person. 🙂
Sweet spirit. Rock solid faith. Courage. Generosity. Humor. You summed her up so well.
Thankful for her and thankful to get to share sibling-hood with YOU!
Oh Becky, you made me cry again, what a lovely tribute to a lovely lady. When my husband and I were first married way back in 1984 we bought a small house in NJ and our across the street neighbor was an 80 year old man named Walt….my husband’s father had passed away about 7 years before that so Walt became like a surrogate Dad to Dave…..he still worked part time and did everything around the house by himself….every day at 4 p.m., he would sit in his carport and have one glass of scotch and one cigar….my husband traveled a lot so whenever Dave was away, Walt would come over when I got home from work to see if I was all right and if I needed anything….one summer day when I came home and Dave was away, Walt was cutting our lawn!!!
Dale,
Walt sounds like the perfect neighbor! And it’s an added bonus that he became a surrogate Dad to your husband; I know that must have meant the world to both of them.
I loved the fact that a guy over 80 years old was out mowing your lawn. Some people are just born with a helper’s heart and Walt sure had it! Thank you for sharing his story.
Our favorite person is our neighbor Arta Mae. Her husband had passed just months before we moved in. She did scare me a little at first, I think she was getting her point across that she would not deal with crazy neighbors! The more we got to know her, she is a lovely person with a huge heart. She never had grand-kids of her own, so our daughter is her grand child now. She is known to our Emma as Granny Mae. She wanted to make sure my husband knew that she could do things for herself and when he would help her, she would always tell him so. We now take care of her yard and her beloved beagles. She is an amazing person and we just love her.
Sandra,
You’re the second reader to say that a family member was “adopted” by an unrelated older person. I so love reading that and being reminded that not all close and special relationships rely on being related by blood. I know your daughter felt blessed to be dubbed her granddaughter!
And I loved Ara Mae’s spunkiness in telling your husband she could do things herself, thank you very much! 🙂
One of our favorite elderly people of all time (beside family of course) was a dear lady named Virginia who lived right next door to us for many years. She was a widow and had been for a long, long time. She drove her car up until the very end. And she would sit out on her front steps in the evenings during the summer and watch the kids play. We would usually go join her and we would have the best conversations and laughs with her! She truly was one of a kind! 🙂
LeeAnne,
I love the mental image of Virginia sitting and enjoying the noise and laughter of the children instead of telling them to be quiet and go away. That is a woman who is truly young at heart!