Life snapshots

Shouting on the phone about spicy hot dogs for all to hear in the middle of Kroger on a busy Saturday morning. Laughter ringing throughout our house during dinners and times of fellowship with close and new friends. Countless conversations of life and financial struggle with low-income people while preparing their federal and state tax returns. Reading brief sentences emailed by my globe-trotting sister in Europe and the Middle East. Flying through the air in ballet class like gravity doesn't exist. Listening to testimonies about how Christ has radically altered lives...

These are just a few snapshots of life this past week. The spicy hot dog episode was related to my volunteering, where I visit a homebound elderly, very hard-of-hearing woman, whom we shall call "Louisa." She writes a list of groceries for me (which includes an impossible to find brand of spicy hotdogs), I go out and get them, and then we just sit and visit awhile. It's sort of similar to the movie "50 First Dates," about a woman who has amnesia, and it's like a first date everyday when she sees her boyfriend. Louisa seems to remember me, but nothing about me, which I don't mind too much. She'll usually ask a refrain of pretty much the same questions each time. It's always 50 First Dates with Louisa. These questions and the variation of my answers include:

Question in a sweet, southern accent, "What are you studying in school?"

Reply in the clearest, loudest voice I can muster: "I just graduated with my master's and am working with a nonprofit."

"Where are you from again? Pennsylvania?"

I automatically reply, "Kansas," without explaining all about Virginia, China... Once I mentioned China, but never again, because she was quite worried about communists.

"Why do you voluntarily visit me, since I'm just an old lady?"

A quick internal reflection about why we do anything in life. "Oh, that's easy. I enjoy visiting you and helping out a little." In my mind, I'm thinking about how I miss visiting my own grandparents, or how I hope that I can brighten her day a bit, or how I secretly pray that someone will show me kindness and care when I'm nearly 9 decades old, or how I really should have been born early last century.

"Do you have any cats?" Louisa asks as she strokes the head of an affectionate kitty at her side.

"Nope, I don't have any pets." I don't explain that I'm actually allergic to the cute little fluffy furballs that are purring contentedly on my lap.

"Oh. Well, maybe when you're settled. Tell me about your boyfriend. You know I met my husband on a train during the war."

"I don't currently have a boyfriend, but I have lots of fun, interesting friends," I say confidently, while wishing I could meet my future husband on a train, too, albeit minus the whole being in the middle of a war part.

"You must have a bevy of beaus! Well, you're still young! You're 20, right?"

"Actually I'm 26." I say that, but feel like I'm lying. I don't feel or look 26.

She expresses a mixed look of surprise, shock and concern. "26? You don't look a day over 20. You'll be glad you look so young," says the woman with pictures of her younger, absolutely gorgeous self plastered on every wall of her house.

Then I proceed to ask her lots of questions, asking more about her soldier-husband, her short career on Indianapolis television, and her experience as an elementary-school teacher.

*Repeat the exact same conversation at least 14 times before it's time for me to go.* Then after a couple of hours of circular, yet pleasant conversation, I exit in a cloud of cat hair and 70 year-old memories that cling to me like a shroud.

Here's to many more years of serving, loving, living, and laughing! I'm so thankful that God has blessed me and most of us with the ability to encourage, help, and teach others, while always embracing opportunities to stretch, grow, and change.


Dinner before the opera at our cozy house!


Hosting 15 women from GFM and church small group for a refreshing evening of food, conversation, study, and prayer!