May 2015 – undivided

Practical Penny

Amy Falke meet me for coffee May 29, 2015June 11, 2015adoption, care 4 Comments

I have to dig through her cupboards when I go over to Penny’s for coffee. She actually doesn’t even have coffee unless she goes out and buys it specifically for me. She has some dusty boxes of tea behind the honey in her pantry shelf. She doesn’t have a kettle either. And she is fairly sure that 2 minutes is too long to microwave the water but she’ll let me do what I want.

She and I are opposites in almost every way. I’m short and fair. She’s tall and dark. I’m optimistic. She tends to imagine the worst possible outcome – that way she is never disappointed. She leaves the house prepared for any eventuality – snacks, tools, extra clothes, maps, plans etc. I forget what I should bring but am good at making do without.

One thing we do have in common is the value we place on family. Her husband and two boys are her focus. She loves her sister and they get together often – giving the cousins a chance to connect as well. I’ve never met her parents though -they had both passed away by the time our paths crossed.

When she told me her birth mom had contacted her, I had visions of it being an amazing thing for her – a completing moment – one where lots of her questions were answered. Family matters so much to her, you see. But instead she asked me, ‘Why should I write to someone I don’t know?’ She wasn’t mad at her birth mom or anything but she already had a family. I think my view of finding birth parents has been skewed by reading too many books. She did eventually write, but she couldn’t pretend it was this amazing, fulfilling moment for her. She wrote because it was the kind and generous thing to do -and because she could. And that is who Penny is.

More than her two boys call her mom. She works in the high school and all the kids know she tells it like it is. She reminds girls that leggings aren’t pants and tells e-cigarette smokers that she’s not stupid. They love her because she doesn’t only care – she gets involved.

Yeah – she may not be the ‘sip-and-share-feelings-over-a-cup-of-coffee’ type. But she’ll make some luscious dessert and push a mug of microwaved water my way and listen. And if I give her the sense even slightly that I have a need, she’ll ask what she can do to help. And it’s no half-way offer. She’ll make it happen. She’s no idealistic, someday type of girl. She’s Penny.

Glen’s Office

Amy Falke meet me for coffee May 28, 2015June 13, 2015connect, grace 0 Comment

He helped me figure out the code to open the doors at the Village at Smith Creek continuing care center one evening. I had just finished my visit with Veronica and hadn’t realized the code had changed until I tried the old code to find it didn’t work.

Glen was always helping out or sitting at the corner table next to Linda, his wife. She sat as she always did – in a wheelchair, her head tilted to the side, eyes closed – with beautiful smooth silver-grey hair. She has been at Smith Creek for the last 12 years so Glen knows all about the ins and outs of everything that happens there. He knows who has moved in, who takes coffee or tea, who has changed tables, who is fighting with her husband, who needs a chair for supper and who has a wheelchair instead. And he knows when someone has died.

He was the first person who spoke to me there the day Veronica died. I had been at her bedside all night as she was in palliative care. I was just coming back in to check on her and glanced ahead of me to see someone say something to Veronica’s mom. She quickened her laborious gait and wailed aloud in grief. I knew Veronica was gone before Glen told me.

“You missed her by 10 minutes” he said as he poured me a cup of hot tea from the carafe waiting there. I sat at his table (affectionately referred to as his ‘office’ by both of us). Veronica’s family was in saying goodbye and, as I was relatively new in her life, I gave them their space. I had started the habit of stopping by Glen’s office on my way in and out just to chat and see how he and Linda were doing. He’s quick to pick on me in a way that makes me feel welcome. And he offers me a cup of tea and a chair.

“You’re not going to stop coming now, are you?” Glen asked me. I hadn’t thought about it really. I had been coming by once a week for about 5 years and I never once thought about what I would do once Veronica was gone. “As long as your office is still open,” I found myself responding.

And I look forward to Tuesday Tea Time. He forgoes getting the coffee and tea for all the other residents on Tuesday afternoons. He says that way the people who are paid to do it remember how to do their jobs. Instead, I get a hug, a cup of tea, and a listening ear. He now, along with knowing all about everyone at Smith Creek, knows all about me. He asks me why I do what I do and tells me what he thinks I should do instead. I find out if anything other than status quo has happened in his week. And we always end up laughing – usually at me. He feeds Linda her supper not even realizing that his listening ear and generous heart are at the same time feeding my soul.

Unusual Compliment

Amy Falke meet me for coffee May 28, 2015May 28, 2015connect, encourage 0 Comment

I was all alone in a McDonald’s playground area. I had dropped off Seth for morning preschool and had brought my book with me so I could enjoy a few moments to myself. We had just moved to Jamestown and I didn’t have any friends yet. Sitting quietly reading with sun shining down on my face and simple black coffee in hand with no demands sounded so peaceful to me.

I had only read one page and someone walked up to my table. He was about 3 decades older than me. I glanced up and smiled when he said, “Hi”, then went back to my book. I turned a page I hadn’t read. (If someone has a book and is actively reading, it sends a clear message – doesn’t it? I mean, isn’t it obvious that I wasn’t looking to chat?)

He didn’t get it. He sat at the table right next to mine and asked how I was. I short answered him with a smile and kept reading. He asked how my book was. I wanted to say, “Well, I could tell you how the book is if you would give me a chance to read it,” but instead I sighed inwardly and put my book down.

God’s voice in my head reminded me that the only way to meet people and make any difference in anyone’s life is to engage. So I did. We actually had a great conversation. He was a most interesting man. He told me about Jamestown and its brick streets. He told me about how it used to be thriving with new businesses back when he had moved there years ago. He sorrowed over what changes had come about.

Right before he left, he stood and said the strangest thing, “You have nice teeth.” He nodded and walked out the door before I had a chance to respond. Good thing too! Because how do you respond to that? It sounds like something you say when deciding whether or not to buy a horse. And my teeth are actually a little crooked -my parents didn’t believe in ‘changing the smile God gave me.’

But it was kind. And memorable. And a gift from a stranger. You just never know what someone might say if you put your book down for a minute. Nice teeth. I know, it’s a strange compliment- but I’ll take it!

Belonging

Amy Falke meet me for coffee May 26, 2015Africa, Belonging 6 Comments

A nonfat, decaf latte please. Is that a nondescript enough drink? Sometimes I just don’t want to stand out so much. Just blend in. Belong. Be like everyone else.

Jessi at 17 wearing a 1 of a kind grad dress with pride — Jessi at 17 wearing a 1 of a kind graduation dress with pride

I remember the date because it was the day I started dating my husband, Jeff. December 27^th we were in a big conference center in Chicago for a teen convention. Thousands of teens were there and we were part of a singing group that would perform that first night. Jeff told me the other girls in the group were in their room and pointed the way to the elevators so I could join them.

You’d think that’d be easy but there were escalators that led up to the bank of elevators. Those escalators were the only way up and I am always terrified that I’ll miss the first step on those things and fall on my face or that my toes will get eaten at the top. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but it looks like the gliding stairs are just for the purpose of moving items/people into the steel mouth of the upper floor. I have had my flip flop get caught in one of these at an airport in Kenya and ended up with a bloody toe so I know what I am talking about.

I made it to the top with no carnage (though I will admit to causing a small traffic jam as I waited to get the timing of the movement in my head and gathered courage to step on.) The worst was still to come. You see – there were 6 elevators and only 4 sets of buttons with up and down arrows. There were no labels so I didn’t know which elevator went to which floor or which buttons ran which elevator. But, how hard could it be? I was sure I would figure it out – I’m a fairly smart girl after all. So, I stood and watched. Everyone else seemed to know just what they were doing. They would confidently walk up and push a button and a door would open. But there didn’t seem to be a pattern as to which one. I’d see the numbers changing showing what floor the elevator was on but I couldn’t see any consistency as to which elevator went to which floor.

I finally had to go get Jeff to help me. Me – a 17 year old young woman and I needed help to get on an elevator. I’m sure it’s obvious to you that any button would run any elevator and it would take me to any floor. I bet there are lots of things that are obvious to you that I don’t know yet. But do you know the best kind of weather to catch flying ants in? Yeah – didn’t think so. Forget about being like everyone else. I’ll have a Mayan mocha with whipped cream.