Who's stopping me?

The World Has Gone Insane Blog has no party affiliation. It is not a political effort. It’s merely me typing thoughts and stories as they come to me. For me it’s therapeutic. For readers I hope it is relatable, accessible, thoughtful, and insightful. I was compelled to write the first entry because my soul demanded that I confess my powerlessness to help my daughter in the face of her personal hurdles and society’s expectations from her. I wanted to speak truth to injustice. In this case the state mandated end of grade test. A small injustice from the perspective of most, perhaps. But on that day at that moment it was all I could see from my perspective. And only in clearing it from my brain by scrawling it on this screen could I see past it. 

It felt good.

Just three months ago I wrote a small eulogy of sorts for my mother’s funeral . We wanted the service to feel personal. We wanted a family member to say some words. My brothers were playing music. My sister would be at my father’s side. So that left me. During the planning meeting at the church when the subject came up, I nearly let the moment pass. In a family with big personalities I am used to sitting on the sideline. I’ve been comfortable in that role. But an overwhelming desire for a personal statement from one of my mother’s children caused me to speak up. I wasn’t sure I could write anything that would measure up. I had no idea if I could speak to a congregation of what was certain to be a couple of hundred people without freezing up. I didn’t know if at that very moment I would be overcome with emotion and break down in the pulpit.

But I was not operating of my own accord at this point. Something or someone was intervening on my behalf and I let it happen. And in letting that happen I think a cycle was broken. That something or someone that was intervening was me. I had been stopping myself from intervening in my own life. Maybe I’m just realizing the extent to which I have interfered in my own life. Someone has been in my way. Someone has put up roadblocks. Someone has told me that I can’t write, that I can’t stand up and deliver a eulogy at my own mother’s funeral. Turns out, that someone was me. So now these thoughts are cleared from my brain. Just as I could not see past the unfairness of my daughter’s school situation until I had freed those thoughts on paper, I could not see past my own fears until I typed this keystroke just now.  

When I sat down in front of this laptop I was going to write about the real injustices that are battering us from all sides right now. I was going to speak out about violence, and hate, and my feeling of powerlessness in the face of these things. But maybe I’m not powerless. Maybe I’m stopping myself from seeing where my real power comes from. It comes from within.

So the best way I know to make a difference right now is to share what I wrote and stood solidly in the pulpit and said at my mother’s funeral:

My mother would say,

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world”

I      wouldn’t      miss     it      for     the      world

This is something that Mom said. This is something that Mom said.     A LOT!

I can hear her say it.  if I close my eyes, right now, in my head.

 (pause)

 And I can hear the way she said it. I can hear her motherly, grandmotherly, and yes her SOUTHERN way of saying it.

“I wouldn’t miss it …for the …Wor-ald” That’s two syllables in Wor-ald.

Some of you might be wondering what the heck I’m talking about.  MOST of YOU?  Probably not.  Because what         was      IT       that my mother would not miss for the world?  Well… You name it.  If it was something that was important to you as a friend, as a son, or daughter or grandchild or great grandchild…. she-was-NOT – going –to- miss it! Mom was on a journey and she did not want to miss a minute of it.

IT could be something of profound importance. Someone’s graduation or wedding. BIG Milestone birthdays for friends, cousins, nephews and nieces.  Anniversary parties, class reunions, Family Reunions, Church Homecomings, music performances by her sons, …. Any celebration of a happy event for someone that she loved, you can BET that she would not miss it! She loved to share in the happiness of others.

(pause)

But she also understood the importance of sharing sadness and grief. Just as we have come here today to share our loss with each other.

(pause)

For all the world…she would not miss offering support to those in need of comforting. She would not miss delivering meals for Friendship Trays to those who could not prepare their own. Even as she was battling her own cancer.

As reading buddies in CMS schools both of my parents made lasting and loving connections with the children they worked with. One student often called and asked to bring his family over  to visit my parents . THIS made them HAPPY! They wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Little things also were not to be missed. Would Nana come to the grand opening of Phat DJ’s, a make believe restaurant, created by her first wave of grandchildren?  She wouldn’t miss it.  Rocking the grandkids to sleep?  Giving them their bottle?  Feeding them in the high chair?  Having Papa take their picture in her own grandmother’s rocking horse? Taking the second wave of grandchildren and great-grandchildren to The Nature Museum, To discovery Place? To Ben and Jerrys? I get exhausted just thinking about all the things that she would not dreamed of missing!

I could go on and on… the traditions, the holidays, camping in the pop-up, Disney World, the Moravian Love Feast.

Through Her Example She taught us the importance of participating fully in this world that God has placed us in.

I never asked my mother if she had any regrets.

She rarely expressed her disappointments. 

As it is with all families, we have had our share of tragedies, illness, and loss. 

When Mom was diagnosed with Ovarian cancer, she began talking about being on a journey of faith.  This is language straight from the covenant drafted by Myers Park Baptist Church: It begins, “We, are a people, on a journey of faith.”.  Mom understood that each person was on a journey of their own. For her, it rarely took her beyond the borders of the Carolinas.  Hers was a journey of connecting with new and different people, a journey to express her faith through service to others.  Often to strangers.  But mostly her journey of faith was about being part of a family. A daughter, a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother.  Her journey culminated, as our friend David put it, “in becoming the grand matriarch of the Franklin clan”

And I can assure YOU that she would not have missed that journey for the world.