Month: February 2017

It was a tough day.

I had received word that my dearest childhood friend had passed away. Her name was Vicki White Maas.  She is the woman in the middle of the above photograph.  You didn’t know her.  Your loss.  In my life she was that person.  That one relationship that endures from childhood through an entire lifetime.

As kids we grew up just a few doors apart.  We quickly became friends because there weren’t a lot of other kids in the neighborhood our age.  We played together, watched TV together, ate lunch at each other’s house, shared our hopes and dreams.  She was that person.

In high school we tried dating each other.  We immediately realized our relationship was not romantic.  Looking back, I think that was the best part of it.  We were boy and girl, but we didn’t have to be boyfriend and girlfriend to be close.  We could be open and relaxed in each other’s company without the stress of maintaining romance.

To know her was to experience her laugh…..that incredible laugh.  It was one of those that begins with a long, audible exhale, followed by a pause during which you wondered if she would start breathing again, culminating in a series of loud guffaws, complete with shoulders and head bobbing.  It was the kind of laugh that lit you up.  She made me feel  funny and clever, even though I knew I was neither.  She was that person.

She refused to let our friendship fade with the onset of adulthood, even after we both fell in love with other people, got married, and I moved far away.  She worked so much harder than me to stay in touch.  There was always the occasional phone call, or the letter showing up in my mailbox, providing the gravitational force to pull us back together.  (Remember letters?….so much more personal and intimate than today’s text message).

The last time I saw her was a year and a half ago.  Sharon and I were back in town for a family reunion, and we had dinner with her the night before. Though we had communicated often, it was the first time I had seen her in decades.  She hadn’t changed a bit.  Same bubbly personality, same smile…..and the laugh.  She was getting close to retirement and was so excited about what was to come in the next phase of her life.  As we were saying good-bye, I asked a man passing by  to take the photo shown above.  I never dreamed it would be the last time I would see her.  In recent years, we stayed in touch on Facebook.  Every time a tornado would pass through my neck of the woods, which was often,  she would always private-message me to make sure I was okay.  She was that person.

Vicki passed away recently from complications due to liver and kidney failure.  Her son posted that the outpouring of love was “mind-blowing”. Not to me.  Not surprised a bit.  What she gave to me, she gave to all…….unwavering loyalty and empathy.  She was that person.

I’m thinking that the thing that makes death so sad is the notion that the wonderful memories of the relationship are only valid if the other person is still around to reminisce with you….that the memories somehow must die as well…..

Not a chance..

There is an episode of Star Trek:  The Next Generation that is titled “The Inner Light”.  In it, Commander Picard is struck by a space probe that causes him to have a vision of a civilization that existed thousands of years ago.  The entire civilization ceased to exist when their planet was destroyed after colliding with a gigantic meteor.  But before the end, they constructed the probe and sent it out into the stars to search for people to inform of their former existence.  Their thinking was, they would never really die as long as the memory of them still remained in someone’s heart.

Thus it will be with my friend Vicki.  I am determined her passing will be instructive, not tragic.  I am going to try my best to preserve her sweet spirit in my relationships with other people…..make it so Number One.

I sincerely hope that you have, or had, a Vicki in your journey, and that this person has inspired you as I have been inspired.  Someone whose influence is such that you feel compelled to write and tell others about them.

Someone who is that person.

 

Hi little man.  As I rock your tiny body in my arms, and stare in awe at the beautiful miracle that you are, I can’t help but wonder what your life will be like.  What things you’ll see, where you’ll go, what you’ll do, what you’ll become, what the world will be like when you’re my age.

I don’t have a clue what the future holds.  But I can tell you what you’ve missed.

You missed a childhood without fear.  There once was a time when the world was not such a scary place.  When you could leave the house in the morning without telling your Mom where you were going, play with your friends all day, and come back in time for supper with no questions asked.   A time when you knew all your neighbors and they knew you, and everybody’s house seemed to belong to everybody.  When your Mom could pack you in the car and take you along to the grocery store without locking the house….even leaving the garage door open.

You missed the serenity of life with no mobile phones.  When people drove their cars actually looking at the road instead of their text messages.  When your car was a refuge from a world constantly wanting your time and attention.  When you weren’t in danger of getting sucked into the deception of social media, with all its facades, a fantasy world where everyone else’s life seems better than yours.  A time when families would sit at a restaurant table and actually talk to each other instead of staring intensely at their phones.

You missed a lot of people.  There were people who pumped your gas, reset the pins on your bowling alley, ushered the aisles at movie theatres, and gave you cash at the bank.  By the time you’re old enough to notice cashiers and waitresses, they may be gone as well.  You missed an incredible great grandmother who would have modeled for you what selfless love really looks like.

You missed dictionaries, phone books, encyclopedias, bottle openers, maps, wringers, rotary phones and shoe horns.

You missed Muhammad Ali, Vince Lombardi, Bear Bryant, Mickey Mantle, Wilt Chamberlain and Arnold Palmer.

American Bandstand, Disco, Wolfman Jack, Veejays, The Twist and sock hops.

Alan Shepard, John Glenn, Martin Luther King, Walter Cronkite, Gandhi, and Vietnam.

The Cold War, the Berlin wall,  the Cuban missile crisis, 9/11, gas rationing, and the Great Recession.

You missed a time when being a Christian was seen by the world as positive and uplifting, not judgemental and non-inclusive.

Some of what you missed was wonderful and will never happen again.  Some of it was frightening.  All of it was instructive.  Or at least it should have been.

Your life will be easier than mine, but will you be happier?  You will be smarter than me, but will you be wiser?   You will see things even more incredible than I have, but will they enrich your life as much?  You will see more of the secrets of the universe unlocked, but will it bring you closer to God?

Here are things I pray you don’t miss:

Laughter, tears, adventure, excitement, sunrises, mercy, encouragement, acknowledgement, the love of a good woman, friendship, forgiveness, success, humility, legacy……..

………..and me…….don’t miss out on me…..I’ll be right here when you wake up.