Rocking Around the Clock

My geriatric friend Comer had told me his favorite singer was Englebert Humperdinck. Asherel and I scoured music stores and CD Warehouse for weeks, but we could not find Humperdinck CDs. We found some hits from the 50s, and some Elvis albums, and settled for that. Then right before we were to go pick up our old friends for our weekly drive and fast food fest, Asherel asked if I would like her to download Englebert from the iTunes store. There was one album.

Comer and Evelyn were sitting on the porch of the Assisted Living Home waiting for us when we pulled in a few minutes late. I was busting with excitement.
"Have I got a surprise for you!" I exclaimed, leaping from the car. Evelyn was beaming, with a sparkling smile of recognition.
"Evelyn! You look gorgeous! It is so good to see you!" I said hugging her.
"Well," she laughed, "It is good to see you too!"
She hadn't said a single coherent sentence last visit, so it was clear that for today, the demons of Alzheimer had retreated a bit.
I even ventured to offer her a choice in our fast food take out.Often choices are too overwhelming for her, but it goes against every fiber of my being to make choices for a sentient adult.
"Fried chicken again, or burgers?"
"Chicken!" she nodded, her smile still wide and lovely.
I pushed my luck with a second question, "Breast or thigh?"
"Breast," she nodded, her eyes focusing on me like they did in the days before her disease had progressed.
"You seem really happy today," I said.
"When you're smiling," she sang.
I sang with her, to the end of the song, after which we both crumpled in laughter and I think even Asherel smiled from the front seat.
"That sure is true," said Comer, listening to the words of the song, as he got in his side of the van.

"Ready for your surprise?" I asked Comer.
He is hard of hearing, so I cranked the radio speaker to which the iPod was linked full blast. I scream at my family for doing this because as of yet, no one is hard of hearing but me, and the volume at which they listen to music is certainly felling the otolythic crystals that remain to conduct sound waves in my inner ear.
Comer smiled as the music trumpeted against his ear drum.
"Oh my, he sure can sing, can't he?"
Evelyn knew every song, as usual, and sang along. Even I knew most of them and sang the phrases I remembered.The two, as usual held hands and we collected our fried chicken and drove to the "old money" neighborhood. Comer loves looking at big houses. He never seems to tire of it. When the Englebert album ended, I told them we would try the 50s album next. It was filled with upbeat songs, like "Rock Around the Clock" which I didn't expect my old friends to know or like. However, as soon as the rocking rolling vibes filled the car, Evelyn's foot started tapping, her hands swaying, and she began singing Rock Around the Clock. I sang along and danced from the waist up in the driver's seat. The car behind me honked as I missed the change of lights, rocking with Evelyn. I saw Comer in my rear view mirror jiggling back and forth to the beat as well. Asherel was videotaping me, promising that payback was coming in the form of a movie she intended to make of me making a fool of myself.

Then when the song ended, with an evil smile, she switched on her iPod gallery of videos and the sound of me straining through Eidelweiss, playing my guitar in fits and stops and singing came over the speakers. Evelyn began laughing, but then we both sang along. When there would be long pauses as I searched for the correct chord, Evelyn chortled happily. I have never had so much fun being humiliated.

When the song ended, Comer said, "Well now, was that you playing guitar?"
"Yes," I said.
"You didn't sound bad," he said.
"Ready for TV?" I laughed.
"Well you might want a little more practice for that," he said.

We pulled back into the senior home then, and still laughing, I opened the door and helped Evelyn out.
"That was fun," I said.
"It sure was," she said, still chuckling, while I brushed the fried chicken crumbs off her shirt.

In the book of Isaiah, the rebellious people have abandoned God's way and He warns them of the punishment to come in judgement of their disobedience. I find it curious that in that time, God mentions that the young will rise up against the old.  The implicit message is of course that in the right way of things, the old should be honored, revered, loved.  But it seems that so often the old are shuttered away, ignored, and disrespected, the wealth of their wisdom and experience lost to the people who need it the most....the young.
I never come away from my time with Comer and Evelyn without a deep sense of joy and satisfaction.

"I will pick you up next Friday," I said, hugging my old, still smiling friends goodbye.
"How about if we find barbecue next time?" asked Comer.
"You got it," I said waving.

Isaiah 3

Judgment on Jerusalem and Judah

 ¹ See now, the Lord,
   the LORD Almighty,
is about to take from Jerusalem and Judah
   both supply and support:
all supplies of food and all supplies of water,
 ² the hero and the warrior,
the judge and the prophet,
   the diviner and the elder,
³ the captain of fifty and the man of rank,
   the counselor, skilled craftsman and clever enchanter.  ⁴ “I will make mere youths their officials;
   children will rule over them.”
 ⁵ People will oppress each other—
   man against man, neighbor against neighbor.
The young will rise up against the old,
   the nobody against the honored.

The Kayak I Don't Love

I am a walking time bomb. My molar fillings are 50 years old. They will not last much longer. So every dentist visit I live in dread of the news that they will all need to be replaced. Nice as my dentist is as a human being, I hate visiting him. But yesterday, I dragged myself step by wretched step to his office for my cleaning appointment. I knew it was going to hurt...it always does. I have a couple of spots with receeding gums and I shoot through the roof when they try to scrape any tartar off those areas. I warn them, and they put the numbing gel on, but it only takes the edge off. It still hurts. And I feel bad that I react because the hygienist always is so apologetic. I wish pain were more easily contained.

I don't handle pain or really any stress well. Some people, like my son Anders barely notice when they are hurt. When he was a little boy, he once sliced his foot open to the point where it required ten stitches. He came toddling over to me and said, "Mommy, I think I might have hurt my foot."  Might have? I almost passed out just looking at it, let alone living it.

But as I tried to engage the hygienist in conversation to delay the inevitable, I found out she was a fellow Christian and her goal in life was to spread encouragement and joy. Despite the pain, I found myself glad that she was chattering away to me with her fingers in my mouth. As I left, shaky but alive, I wondered what it is about some people that they just glow with acceptance of me. Maybe it is just that she doesn't know me. Still, it is a quality I long to hold within myself. I don't know if one cultivates that kind of character, or if it just flows more easily out of some people. If I could buy it and pour it into my soul, I would. But I suspect it is one of those things you can't manufacture.

After the dentist appointment, we took our beloved friend Polly and her visiting three grandchildren kayaking. I brought all my kayaks, and assigned poor grandson Nicholas the kayak "I don't love."
I have a total of 6 kayaks, though 2 belong to Matt and his new wife. Two are hard shell kayaks that we put on top of the car at much expense to my vertebrae. The rest fit inside the car when deflated. 3 are the fantastic inflatable ones that are very well made and a joy to paddle, and one is the kayak I don't love. The kayak I don't love is actually a two person kayak and is really too small for any but the smallest of two people, but too big for any but the biggest of one people. Since Nicholas at age 16 was the biggest of us, he was given the kayak I don't love.
"Why don't you love it?"
"You'll see."

So the 6 of us set forth, like a gaggle of geese floating off on our kayaks. I had figured these kids would last maybe forty minutes. Two hours later, we had kayaked to a sandy shore and jumped off a dock, kayaked to two enormous rocks sticking up out of the middle of the lake and moored there, played like otters scampering and leaping from the rock, and kayaked back exchanging stories of lives that intersected just for a moment at this little point in time. Nicholas led the pack most of the way in the kayak I don't love.

They were delightful kids- friendly, smart, polite, and found joy in every part of our lake journey. They clearly loved and respected Grandma Polly, and her lovely face sparkled with the delight of these precious souls in her presence. I had one of the nicest afternoons I had had in a long time just being in the presence of people who appreciated simple pleasures of life, and of each other.

As I deflated the kayaks and rolled them up to pack them in the car, I carried the kayak I now loved with a little more respect.

Romans 15:7
 ⁷ Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God.

It Was Glorious

As Comer settled into the front seat, placing the cane tip inside the door, the fresh springtime breeze blew magic around the land. I had been planning to just drop Comer at the Alzheimer unit to visit with his wife, Evelyn and then I would bring him back to his assisted living home when he was done. But the sun and the seventy degree unnatural warmth all beckoned that youth could be recaptured on such a day as this.
"Should we take Evelyn to a park, a lovely park with a lake? " I asked Comer.
"We can ask her, " he answered,"She hasn't been out of that prison in months."
Evelyn sat perched on the same chair we had found her yesterday.  She again looked up with her radiant smile when she saw Comer.
"Would you like to go to a park, Mother? "
Comer called his dear wife 'mother' in recognition of one of the great joys of their life - parenthood.
Comer had not even finished saying the last word before Evelyn chirped,"Yes!"
"We'll find a park with a lake and watch the ducks! " I exclaimed.
"I like ducks," said Evelyn.
As we signed her out, I asked, "And we can stop and pick up pastries or something on the way to the park!  Do you like pastries? "
"I like pastries, " said Evelyn,  clutching my and Comer's hands.

As we drove, I pointed to the redbud trees that had just that day burst into pink profusion.
"Isn't it beautiful! " I cried.
"Beautiful! " echoed Evelyn, smiling.
We saw a bicyclist pedaling in the warm sun .
"I love bikeriding," I said, "Did you ever bikeride?" I asked Evelyn.
"No, I never did bike ride," she answered.
"Yes you did!" said Comer from the back seat.

We drew near the bakery.
"What would you like?" I asked. Evelyn's face grew worried as she struggled to remember what she liked.
"Cinnamon rolls? " I asked, "Do you like cinnamon rolls?"
"I like cinnamon rolls," she said smiling at me.
"Mother, are you sure? You just ate," said Comer.
"I like cinnamon rolls," said Evelyn.
"And what would you like to drink?" I asked.
Again she looked frightened.
"Coke? Do you like coke?"
"I like coke," she said.

I handed the goodies out to my friends and we started off to find the park with a lake and ducks. Suddenly I remembered a park that I had discovered long ago, and had not been to in years. It was tucked away behind a small neighborhood in a little village adjoining ours. As we drove we passed the huge mall in our area.
"Have you been there?" I asked.
"No, never," said Evelyn.
Comer chuckled from the back, "Only about a hundred times."

We pulled into the park, and a swinging bench, the only unoccupied seat on this glorious day was right beside the parking lot. I helped my old friends to the bench, settled them with their drinks and cinnamon rolls and parked the car.

A fountain spurted liquid diamonds in the middle of the lake. Children and dogs bustled and climbed and laughed all around us. The ducks were far off on the other side of the lake. I asked how Evelyn and Comer had met. It had been love at first sight. Evelyn remembered the dance where she had first seen her future husband . I asked about where they had lived, rasied their family. Evelyn mentioned a town name I had not heard of. Comer nodded and they talked about the little town near Atlanta. Comer recounted all the jobs he had held and Evelyn smiled, nodding as they reminisced. She ate her cinnamon roll happily.
"So many children!" she smiled, looking around.

After a couple of hours in the sun, the hard bench began to bite at their bottoms, and we shuffled slowly arm in arm back to the car. As we drove back to the Senior Center where they lived, we passed another bicyclist.
"I love bicycle riding," said Evelyn wistfully.

She cried when Comer said he had to go now, but he would be back soon. He helped her lie down on her bed and kissed her sweetly.
"You don't know how it kills me to leave her," he said to me as we drove to his assisted living apartment.

As I let him out of the car, he said, "This has been the best day we have had in months. It was glorious."
And it was. Such a simple day, with such simple pleasures. But the glory of God had shown down on us, I thought as I wiped away specks of cinnamon roll from my shirt.

Psalm 16:10-11

¹⁰ because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead,
   nor will you let your faithful one see decay.
¹¹ You make known to me the path of life;
   you will fill me with joy in your presence,
   with eternal pleasures at your right hand.