Tag: love

I’ve reached that age where my friends are transitioning to new phases of their life, and for some to eternal life. We make a lot of fun about the boomer generation, but the generation has begun to transition out of our stories. These are real people who lived full lives, who fought for their country on many battlegrounds, and opened the world up to new possibilities never before imagined. And we had fun doing it. 

Earlier this year, I had the realization for myself that I had finally hit the – “I’m Old” point in my life. I am walking with friends whose bodies are declining. Their minds and their hearts are still the same active people they were when they were young, it’s just their bodies aren’t letting them do the things they want to do. I have a sweet friend who loves the Lord and loves people, but unfortunately, her legs aren’t giving her the strength she needs to do the walking about that she wants. But it doesn’t deter her. She has friends and family over and continues to be a bright light in the lives of everyone she meets. Thank goodness social media allows those homebound to stay connected.

My oldest sweetest friend, has gone to be with the Lord. Annie suffered many cruelties in her life, physically, mentally, and emotionally, and yet there was a spirit in her that I can’t even begin to explain. She loved life. She loved her family and would’ve done anything for them. I have known her longer than anyone, other than my family members, and even though we have been away from each other, there is now a huge gap in my heart for my little sis. I regret not making time to be with her, and yet she would be the first one to tell me I was doing what I needed to do and she was OK because she knew I loved her and she loved me. We really did have that soul sister connection. 

So how do we help our friends who aren’t the people they used to be physically and maybe even mentally, and yet they are the same people we know and love.  I think if we can be there on some level to encourage and to continue to remind them of their value and worth, then we are doing God‘s work in their lives. If we can set aside a little bit of time to listen to your stories, to listen to their heartaches, and to listen to the person who they really are, we are showing tenderness from Jesus. And we can pray for them, uniting through the Holy Spirit to them in a way that is beyond the physical realm.

Life With Annie

So today I am remembering my life with Annie. Our mothers were best friends, Sis and Peg. Those two could get in some kind of trouble and they passed that on to their daughters. They passed on their faith and their commitment to loving others. Our fathers worked for the same government “company,” so we knew what it was like, growing up with secrets. In our late teens we got ourselves in all kinds of trouble. We didn’t think it was trouble, but apparently our parents did.

We grew up in Germany and that meant easy access to alcohol, especially beer. One of the traditions was during big parades to make sure you ate lots of Brochen (German rolls) and pretzels—to absorb the beer! One night she showed up at my apartment tapping on the window after having had more than a few beers. My solution was to go to the kitchen and grab a loaf of bread and feed her bread from my window to try to sober her up. We laughed about that for years and years. She eventually gave me my Emergency Piece of Bread  so I would always have something to help me sober up, but mostly it has sat proudly in my living room as a reminder of our love for each other. It was the first thing my daughter remembered when I told her of Annie’s passing- she too would have Annie’s bread! I will miss sharing those memories of our childhood together. I will miss my little sis.

She was adopted into her family of two older  brothers. There was a significant age gap between them, like me and my siblings. They didn’t always see eye-to-eye but they took their big brother roles seriously, loving and supporting her through some dark times in her life. They were there when she became ill with dementia and they did what they could to create lasting memories with her and her daughter. She never had anything bad to say about them, only how great and successful they were. She was so very, very proud of them and their families. It was always her way to shift to the positive. 

Family was everything to her. She would’ve laid her life down for either of her children and her grandchildren. Every conversation we had always included her talking about how proud she was of her daughter and son and how excited she was to see how smart and fun her grandchildren were. She had the opportunity to spend a lot of time with her grandkids, which she always took as a blessing for her. There were a lot of rocky times between mother and daughter, as is typical in those relationships, and yet it was her sweet daughter who is there by her side in the final hours, holding her hand and loving her. Her son was able to be there and I know she found peace in his visit.

It would’ve been the most important thing for my sweet Annie to know that her daughter loved her the way that she loved her daughter.

There are many things that were hard in her life, and I won’t share them here because they were private for her. She fought hard to get what was hers in the courts of law and in the court of society. She suffered with some physical disabilities as a result of the emotional stress in her life. We would talk about those hard times, always ending with how good God had been to her, bringing her through those times and providing for her. There were days when I couldn’t understand how she was still alive. In her middle-ages, she and I took steps to educate ourselves. We laughed that we were both older adults when we finally returned to school to get degrees. She was the good student, though it took everything she had to concentrate on whatever the subject was she was studying,  but man that girl was smart. She wanted to show the world that despite making some bad choices early in her life and being knocked down a few times, she could still get up and do the things she and I were meant to do. Nothing would deter her once she put her mind to it.

We shared a Faith together that came from our mothers. We grew up in the same church hanging out with our moms in the women’s church group. We learned from our mother, Sis and Peg, how to be supportive friends of one another. Because Sis and Peg had some stories of their own, and yet these were strong women too, who got through it with grace and dignity. I still have the Michelangelo statue that Sis made for my mom. We all tried our hand at pottery, but only Sis had talent to create beautiful things. It’s right there next to the slice of bread that Annie gave me. My wish for our daughters is that they too have lasting friendships like this in their lives. Few things matter as much as a soul-friend who carries your story and loves you through it.

As kids we both transited the Atlantic on the SS United States on separate journeys to Germany. Years later we would reconnect over it’s mothballing. We talked about the excitement and terror of sailing that amazing vessel. We had so many incredible adventures because of our fathers and their careers and our parents’ desire for us to experience life to its fullest. And we did. We kept that shared desire to see beyond our own walls and it also left us always ready for change and a new adventure. Always on the move. In someways that is how she approached her dementia. It was just another journey for her and we laughed that now she would have an excuse to forget things. 

As life would have it, we drew apart as we moved to different parts of the country and the world. We married and had kids. We married and had trouble in our marriages. We were there for each other through those dark times. She moved around a lot, trying to always find her special place to belong. Her daughter was incredible taking care of her and loving her through some of those darkest days, right through to the end. She never wanted to be a burden to anyone and her daughter was able to give her some of that sense of independence, right to the end. Annie was the kind of person who just lit up your life by being in it, and even though we were miles and miles away and didn’t talk for years, I could look at that little piece of bread she gave me and laugh about our life together and know we were in each other’s hearts and memories. She will always be there even though I will miss hearing that raspy voice of hers as she inhaled her cigarette. 

If you have someone like that in your life, try and make a little time for them. Keep building those memories so that when one of you is no longer part of this planet, they will remain part of each others soul. Don’t let little things keep you apart. I’m so thankful for the people who have passed through my life and left footprints on my heart. I cherish them and our memories, and hope they too have fond memories of me. Some have moved on and some remain, all of whom I believe God brought together for the seasons of our lives, to learn and grow. 

I love you Little Sis. Be at peace now. I’ll see you one day soon.