Dear Mother-in-law

You knew his death was coming and you tried to prepare… but somehow making those decisions while he was still living seemed callous and scared you both… as if to put it off would put off the inevitable that the doctors, for months now, said could happen at any time. “The heart is just worn out” they said. If you thought about it too much or planned for it, might that hasten it somehow? No! Don’t think about it!

Cemetery plots and head stones and funeral homes and lost pensions (he died a day too soon) and the loss of your own social security checks. And do you want a limousine and little memory cards and laminated obituaries? How many people will come and how do we get them here? Hotel rooms or house guests? The airline tickets... the gasoline expense... who will go get them? Lost work time and lost class time and food, food, food for all of the very large family and the many guests. The fee for the church and a stipend for the priest and the singers and the organist and the printing of the funeral order of service. The photos and enlargements and photo frames and the mourning clothes for family; the black suits and ties and belts and shoes for the pall bearers . Thank you notes and postage and … and … and... there is always one more thing to decide, something to pay for, something pressing.

You thought you were prepared, but you had no idea… all the little incidental expenses… All the things to think about when your brain is still numb. Important decisions that must be made with no time to think. Decisions that do not seem important at all but still must also be made. All of these years your role has been the caregiver, the advice giver for all and you are still trying... but you are so tired.

All of the decisions and expenses do not fall to you but you are aware of them and feel burdened by it. You understand that others who care about you have taken on an added burden to keep the weight from you. They are hurting too and you know this but you let them help you because your heart is heavy and your hands are heavy and your mind is dull. You are coping from day to day, from minute to minute.

You are vaguely aware of all the busyness around you. You are in the midst of it but feel as if everyone is a blur around you and you sit alone. You feel alone with all the people around you. Your children and grandchildren are here by your side every minute but he isn’t here. You feel so alone and you say so. We all stop in mid-sentence, in mid-step, and pause. We are stunned. Suddenly we recognize the truth in your words and we weep in our hearts. We know it is true and that our arms around you and our words of love cannot replace those of the man who was at your side for 60 years.

It is as if you are being pummeled when you have already fallen to your knees and begged for mercy. Your friends and family are here in the circle with you trying to hold back the beating, taking many of the blows, but it is not enough. You will have to gather your strength… You will look over and see God in your corner and it will give you hope and you will rise to your feet again. We will cheer and hold you up and the weight will be shared by all of us. You will realize, we will realize, that together we can endure it.

Dear Proud-to-be-an-Atheist

I won't tell you this to your face but.... I feel so sorry for you. I like you, have even come to love you, and it makes me so sad to see your struggles in life with no one beside you to help you carry the load. If only you knew the boundless and eternal love of God. If only you could feel Jesus' arms encircle you and dissolve your pain into only warmth. But you reject Jesus and deny God. so it is.

I've known you since you were 5 years old, a friend of my son's. I have a photo of you all at his July birthday party when you were all painted up like Indians, making muscles and silly faces before the ensuing waterfight.

You were always the quiet one. The one that never really looked you in the eye. Always guarded. Shy to the very definition and... wary. Afraid to let anyone see your heart. And that was even before your Mom left your Dad... and both of you kids to fend for yourselves.

I knew your Mom and liked her back then. We were all shocked but, of course, know one really knows what is happening in another's marriage. She must have had her reasons.

I am surprised, really that you and Casey have remained friends all these years. You are so very different but Casey has always been attracted to the "downtrodden" and I suppose you value the fact that he sticks by you even in your quietness and your intellectualism (which is way beyond him) and just lets you be you. Casey is good at that. You are also tolerant of his sometimes arrogance and his own neediness to be loved. A good match perhaps for lifelong friends.

As the mother of your friend I have remained at the very edges of your life. You are 22 years old and you have a mother who loves you...but I have tried to stay interested and involved. We encourage your participation in our family as much as possible. You show up our dinner table now and then and you are always welcome there. Casey has taken you with us on our family ski trip and our family vacation camping in Custer State Park. That was only a week after your father died of brain cancer.

You are still the quiet one but I have also seen your funny side. Your wit is quick and can be stinging. When you let loose, and I'm sure you do with your friends, you can be the funniest one there with your smart remarks. I am certain there is so much more to you than you let on. You are incredibly creative and artistic and smart. You have just graduated from college and now you are searching, searching, searching.

You tried to get into the Peace Corps but you were not accepted. What a disappointment that was for you. That's the reason I invited you to join us on the Mission Trip to Mississippi. I warned you that it was a group of Methodists but you came anyway. I know you must've hated those daily devotionals and worships every evening but you came.

Of anyone I know, YOU NEED GOD IN YOUR LIFE. He is what you are searching for! I have found there are two kinds of people that just find God impossible. The wealthy (just about every American by the world's standards, see www.globalrichlist.com ) have a little problem putting God first. It is my biggest struggle as a Christian. The second is the Intellectual. If you can't explain it, if it doesn't make sense, if there is no proof, if YOU can't understand it, well, it just can't be possible. You have such a big belief in your own power of intellect that there is no possibility for something that is beyond your understanding. Too bad.

So...try to expose you to what real family life is like, not all perfect by a long shot but plenty of love and closeness. I try to show you that all Christians aren't puitans and judgemental. Yeah, we are probably all hypocrits now and then or more often but we just keep trying to do better. We know we can't give up because God is counting on us. He loves us through our mistakes and our questions and he shows us th joy in the small moments and the good in everything even when things look bad. Oh, how I wish you knew this, too. You need our Savior.

Dear Father-in-law

Yesterday was Father's Day. The family all gathered in your home once again. You told me that all six of your children made it by, and all of the 10 grandchildren that still live in town! There was pride in your voice. It was your oldest grandson's first Father's Day as a father himself and he brought the twins, your first great-grandchildren, with him. He's a doctor now and his knowledge, both medical and of your family, has been invaluable to all of us in the last few months.

It is likely that this will be your last Father's Day, now that you are in Cardiac Hospice Care. They say that you have been living on borrowed time for the last three years...your heart can't get better...it can't get worse (it can only stop beating altogether). You are staying positive but you know the score. Yesterday you told me you wanted to put some of your clothes in the Garage Sale, you told my boys to come and get all the copper pipe you have stored in your basement. You heard it is quite valuable right now. You told them to go sell it at salvage and keep the money. You are preparing, aren't you?

So I remember back 28 years to when I first met you, Vinny's funny Irish dad, Patrick. Born on St. Patrick's Day, a first generation American born of an Irish immigrant father, who traveled to America by himself at the age of 14, and a mother who was a product of the famous Orphan Trains, gathered up and sent to the midwest where she became a "domestic" for her adopted family. You love to talk about it all.

You were not at all crazy about the idea of your youngest son marrying "out of the faith" but we did it anyway. We are still the only non-catholics in the family! It was a big deal; a disappointment. Yet on our wedding day you whispered in my ear "I now have more daughters than I have sons." You have had my heart ever since.

Dear Angry Parent

You called and wanted to talk to the Lunch Lady...okay, I do the lunches, I admitted with cheer in my voice. I get so many calls at the end of the school year with questions about the kids' lunch money accounts. I welcome the opportunity to explain to parents because at this time of year I am required to be very strict about letting kids eat when there is no money in their accounts.

Your attack began.

• Why hadn't I taken your son's dollar in the lunch line? (I can't take $ in the line-they have accts... they are suppposed to turn it into the office... a dollar wouldn't have dug him out... I'd already let him eat into the hole... he knows all this, he's in Jr. High, for pity's sake)
  
• Why had I sent him to get a free PB&J sandwhich? He doesn't like PB&J? (we do this as a favor to the kid so they won't go hungry just because their parents won't pay for their lunch... he's in Jr. Hi and knows how it works... he's told every day when he gets below $5, so he knew at least 4 days in advance that he was out... it's in the bulletin every morning that they will get PBJ if they are out of money)
  

• Why didn't I let your daughter eat when I let the kid ahead of her eat with no $? (didn't happen... he may have had some $ but not enough to cover the full lunch, in which case I would have told him he could eat... she could not know the circumstances of the boy ahead of her-it's private- could she must have misunderstood)... in the elementary school she has gotten a letter every day for the past week letting you know exactly how much money is left in her account, explaining that we no longer let them go 3 lunches in the hole at this time of year, informing you that PB&J will be available for kids with no $. EVERY DAY I do this even though it's a huge pain, because I don't want the kids to run out of $!)

You gave me no chance to explain, no opportunity to defend. Every time I tried to get a few words out you interrupted me and said you didn't want to hear it because YOUR KID SAID this and that. I wondered if you even know anything about kids. Do you know how their point of few is sometimes skewed? ... and how they don't always have all the info needed to understand? ... and how they don't always tell us everything... and how they sometimes say things, exaggerate or leave pertinent facts, to get out of trouble?

• You informed me that you have been mad all year about this stuff and I wondered why you waited until you were crazy-mad to call instead of earlier if you had questions. I wondered why you haven't signed up for Free or Reduced meals if you have difficulty getting your kids lunches paid for. That is why we have that program. I did not tell you any of this...couldn't have even if I wanted to.

• You said you wanted me to treat every kid the same and not favor your son over your daughter(???!!! what the heck? The only reason your daughter hasn't had to eat PBJ like your son has, is because when she gets 3 lunches in the hole you usually come up with the money but when your son runs out you just let him not eat. I can show you their lunch histories if you'd like to see them. Funny, I always thought it was you who favored her..still do, by the way.) Your kids have been in the hole most of the year. I feel sorry for them, I'm not trying to be mean to them. I think it is sad the way you pass the buck on your parental responsibilities and try to make it all about me. Does it ease your guilt?

By now I was fuming and doing everything I could to control my voice and keep it calm. But I admit I was ticked off! I finally squeezed it out, when you finally came up for air between tirades, that if you preferred I could just always turn them down and never cut them a break, and never let them go into the hole ever at all. I shouldn't have said it.

I didn't say these truths: that your kids are lying... that your son has been in the hole most of the year... that you could prevent your kids' difficulties by keeping money in their accounts like most other parents. I didn't ask if you'd send your kids to McDonalds with no $ and expect them to be given a meal...or a PB&J.

You were blowing up and I gave up trying to explain and it got worse and worse as I sat silently listening to you attack me and repeat what your saintly children had told you. You seemed to think of more and more things that were unjust as you yelled and it escalated to a fever pitch. You told me you usually weren't home but were was off today (ah...there it is! you only care about his kids' problems when it is convenient for you) so you threatened that you could just come right on over to the school this very minute! I didn't say "Bring it!" although by now my tongue was almost bleeding from all that I did not say. I wished you would come flying in so my boss could get in on this and see what an idiot you are and I could be free of it. I am not paid enough to take this kind of abuse for doing what I am required to do.

You continued ripping on me and threatening to come over to the school and I offered to let you speak to the principal... only I didn't get the words all out, of course, because you were still cutting me off and perhaps wanted me think it was your idea to talk to my boss.

I'd tell you more but I have to go get stitches in my tongue.

Dear Pastor

My faith journey has been a long slow road with me slowly trudging along, ever hopeful. I have my Christian role models and mentors and friends in Christ to help me along the way and keep me from veering too far off.

Last night at Bible Study we looked at the Discipline of Prayer and Meditation. You told the story about John Wesley at the monastery spending so much time in the confessional. He said that he could not, for 5 minutes, keep the Great Commandment. I know that you tell the story to let us know that it is a real effort and a true discipline to be true to God but I find myself thinking that if even J.W. couldn't put God first for 5 minutes, what hope is there for me?

I know that I am selfish, and prideful and judgemental and every night I think about that and pray about it and then God gives me another chance to get it right the next day and then I screw up again and the next day I try again and God forgives me and I ask him to help me do better and be better and then I mess up ...etc. ....I'm a slow learner but I have hope!

But John Wesley! It makes me discouraged to think of that.

PS ~ I've read Mother Theresa's biography and she started out as an unremarkable, unmemorable student. She is my inspiration...please don't tell any "bad" stories on her... ☺

Dear Mourning Friend,

I hurt for you today. I have seen you go through so much as she wrestled with death. I have seen you cope with it all gracefully and with incredible strength of spirit. I admire you so much. You never gave in to self-pity even when the caretaking began to take a toll on your own health. You stayed.

I saw you trying to help her; get her to eat, get her medications right, get her up when she requested it. I wondered why. I asked what would happen if she didn't eat and you explained that her blood sugar was already haywire and she could die. And we both realized at the same time that she already was dying. But you couldn't stop helping her, loving her, even when she wasn't "her" anymore.

I listened as you told me the stories of what she said and how she didn't remember anything and said crazy things that would be funny if she wasn't out of her head..if she wasn't dying. I listened when you told of the impossible demands she made and the ungrateful and mean things she said. But you know that wasn't her speaking you were able to remember the love she had shown you so many times over the years. You were able to remember how well she loved her grandchildren and how well she cared for them.

You didn't give up on her in the end, even through the frustration and the agony. You were still able to treat her with the respect that she deserved...that she had earned.

And I think of 1 Corinthians 15:55 "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" I pray that the pain that all of you have endured over these last months is vanquished with her death and the realization that her suffering is over and she is, at last, at peace and in the arms of our heavenly father.

God bless you, my friend.

Dear Son #3

I didn't hide my frustration very well when you called last night, did I? It was a big deal when you chose to go to Northwestern College...so far...so expensive. We went with you and checked it out and were convinced. It would be worth it.

You, my devout Christian boy, needed the Christian school with the Christian atmosphere. The college offers Chapel services 3 times a week and a Praise Worship on Sunday evenings. They convinced us that the advisors would be interested in you and help you (something we found that lacking at the colleges of sons #1 & 2). There would be Bible studies available in each dorm and the school is educationally sound as well. They offer Mission Trips and Retreats. There were lots of other opportunities, as well, like intermurals and free concerts and other fun special activities.

Your girlfriend talked her parents into going there too but swears she didn't follow you there. ☺ She, too, fell in love with the school and its' opportunities for growth as well as knowledge. Now after only one semester you have called and told us that "we" want to come back to Missouri and that she has already called to make sure everything will transfer. It is because we are so far away and don't really like it here and it's not what we thought it would be like.

Can you hear my frustration?