Sunday, August 23, 2015

Gifts from the mailbox

Thinking of you. Just wanted to let you know. Hope you remember me. It's been a long time. Greetings....wonderful greetings that warm the spirit and bring a smile.

God works in mysterious ways. Over and over again, when I need help, He already knows it and has taken action. This last week was a prime example. It was a rough week, beginning with a dear friend's doctor informing her that she was going to be put on hospice. Tari has had MS for well over 30 years. Her doctor informed her that she is the longest living MS person he knows. She has been bedridden for at least the last ten years only able to move a few fingers and lift her head, yet she is one of the strongest people I know, accepting her circumstances and living with a cheerful spirit. For better or worse, I am the only person with whom she expresses her deeper feelings. So when this news came, I was the designated person to talk to her. It took three hours to get around to the subject. "I forget that I have MS," she said. It was time to talk turkey. I crawled up into bed with her and held her. She told me of her fears, and I told her about mine. We talked of her children and the end of life. I can truly say that it was one of the most difficult conversations I have ever had to face. I sat in my car after and cried.

On Thursday my granddaughter called to tell me that their other grandma had passed away. She had only been ill a few days with pneumonia. Another time to put on a fa├žade of strength and support, while inside I grieved with them and for them. But as I said, God takes care of me. Evidently the weight of compassion comes with a support team.

My sis June and I got into a conversation about how we love to get things in the mail. As kids we argued as to who would walk the lane to the mailbox. We could not wait to get toys we had sent for via the back of a cereal box. Waiting for the funny paper was a weekly treat. Junk mail was even better than an empty mailbox. Well, my mailbox was busy this week. On separate days I received notes from old friends and neighbors that wrapped around my heart and warmed me. Betty wrote to me of a time when my mom helped her boys. Marilyn thought she had to remind me of who she was, but I already knew and smiled at her note. Janet sent a picture and beautiful card, filling me with a missing of Neff Road. Today I received a dear note from Geneva who just happened to be thinking of me. My sadness was eased by these lovely women who took time to write. Their encouragement and sweet words picked up a sagging heart.

In this age of technology, we seldom find personal notes in the mailbox. I am at fault more than most, since it is difficult to write with my arthritic thumbs, but I know the worth of those written words. I do most of my communication and receive most via the internet. It, too, is my mailbox. What a blessing to know that someone is thinking of you. I am grateful for these women who came to my rescue. I will write return notes. They will take some time, but it is important. I have learned that when we have the urge to write to someone, we just might be writing at a time when love and support are needed. Wish I could still walk the lane to the mailbox. Wish I wasn't too old for that cereal box prize. The gifts I got this week are priceless. So are the women who sent them.

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