April 6, 2013

• The Rarity Of A Perfect Soul; I Know One

  I want to begin my story by telling you my Grandson Rivvee’s view of God.  Rivven is the Anglican name for Ruthven as we had to inform our son that it would be unkind to have a son with the nickname of Ruth.  This week our Rivvee had this dream, and it was that The Eiffel Tower is God, only it is scary, for God has two heads.  He did enjoy that his vision of God included God holding one great big root beer, and of course — It was ice cold and ready to drink!  Thus Rivvee began a happy day.  He goes to a German bilingual school, for even most of the Jewish families in Cincinnati have German roots with Hebrew University here, though our families left the tribes of Jewish decent long before, or were we just on the other side of the barbeques on the beach.  Remember Jesus and the Apostles hunger at the beach?  What the missed after cooking fish and breaking bread was that nice cold root beer which Rivven knows God is holding on to. A little music like Riv’s decision to sing an entire song of spring to us over Easter dinner he had learned in school and sang beautifully for a boy about to turn 6 years old really amazed us, for he was using his little arm to conduct himself, and if I do say so, he had almost perfect pitch.

  We asked him what the words meant, to which he replied, “How should I know?”  “It’s just a German song,” so we gave loud, “Bravos,” cheers, clapped our hands, and he enjoyed himself so much that he asked his Aunt Mary if she wanted to hear it again.  Aunt Mary agreed that the next time she sees him that she would certainly like to hear the whole tune all over once more.  She is the best of Aunts, for she is a vet tech, and every animal is her friend.  She teaches children how to reach for the stranger dog or the new kitty without making them afraid, but I have told you about my Mary before, among the chosen who has the heart of gold from which so many reach in to and do not realize they have met a girl who knows perfect love, our Mary who almost died at birth.

  I was looking through Facebook which I open, because the children post pictures there of grandchildren, of themselves, of old friends, and I ran across a beautiful face that I have not seen for a while, and this woman has probably been among the most beloved among little children for the 25 years that I have known her.  A church school recommended her as a student they had who would be apt to be a wonderful child care person when my twins were small, and I would meet, Patty.  She was so beautiful, not wafer thin, but her face was almost angelic, and her eyes were blue.  In the fashion of her church, her hair was long, and she had the blessing of being a natural blonde, and the best part would come after she opened her mouth, for she had a most gentle and consoling voice.  I would learn that she had graduated from a Bible College, that her father had a farm a little north of the city, and she had the most wonderful laugh.  How can we compare a laugh to the sound of bells when there are so many bell sounds to hear, but her laughter was musical.

  I would learn that she was to be a teacher at a school that was among the Faith churches around the area that had roots in the early Methodist teachings, and when school began once more, she would be teaching first grade, her dream, to teach in a Christian school where the parents and children knew the ways of The Bible College from which she graduated.  She was so joyful and appreciative that she felt God had a hand in leading her to a job which had virtually no benefits, could hardly pay her minimum wage, and she and her teacher friend could pick up a little extra money by cleaning the entire school every afternoon as janitors, so then I watched her in awe as she met my twin daughters, and I would have her for about two wonderful summers as a child care person and the best friend any one could ever have.  I am always interested in theology, so we could talk a lot about issues of faith, and with no degradation of my own faith; I knew this woman was the kind of person Jesus had been asking for as a follower, because I had never met anyone who was so non sanctimonious, so willing to give all for her belief in the absolute goodness of the Lord.

  Patty knew we were Catholic, that we were not attending church at the time, but she also knew that our entire family saw her as a person who had life figured out, that she was out to spread, “The Word,”  through her gentle ways, not to judge, not to lecture, but with no fallacy or intent of preaching, her kindness became the joyful noise which is made when a person accomplishes things without making any loud proclamations or singling out those of us whom she though might be vulnerable to any extra teaching by her.  She was beginning where life was most important, with the little children, the, “Come unto me first graders,” who would thrive in her class learning ABCs and meeting a teacher non would forget.  At times she could not hide a beautiful blush, especially one day when she had to share a story of one little girl she happened to notice in class who was pulling the front of her blouse in points just like she saw as the breast on her Barbie Dolls.  Unlike most teachers, Patty did the right thing, just came in laughing, tears streaming down her cheeks, and telling me what had gone on that school day.

  My girls would just run screaming with joy when Patty came in to the house, for they were going to do something fun, so Patty had this way of making time count to teach, to draw, to make letters, to make words, and there was always something new for me to have to hang on the refrigerator after a long evening of ICU or medical/surgical care, for to be with my family more, I would never accept benefits after the first job.  Arranging times as such I could have teenagers as well as little girls taken care of was quite an effort, but as long as Patty was in the picture, we were making it along somehow, even when my husband was on his orchestral tours.

  Patty, like me knew the way of the land, enjoyed the time and the seasons, for we had — In very different worlds, grown up in the country.  She could show the children something to look for in the woods behind our house, or to collect leaves and acorns, for all of the earth was sweet and bountiful, “God’s gifts,” for all things, life was a collection of miracles from a gracious and Divine Father In Heaven, something not wasted on me, but she just could show it so much more in the way she would find goodness in times of sorrow.  We had a child at the time who was going through way worse than growing pains, and sometimes Patty would keep me going, because around her you just had to be picking out all of the other signs of wonderful events happening.  “Oh, you should have seen the rope swing Mary climbed today,” for she knew Mary was a stroke survivor.  Catherine would want to dress up in her frills and garlands, but Mary had this innate will to recover from the stroke at birth, and no matter how down I could get, I would hear, the good news, the happy moment, and her memories of God’s Bible College, from where she graduated, and the news from the farm and home.

  Soon I would see a new glint in her eyes though, and she began to tell me about a young man who kept dropping by, one she had known most of her life, and his name was, “Leroy,” and yes; As you may imagine.  Things began very slowly in their courtship, swinging at her folks on the front porch swing, laughing and talking about some of Leroy’s bad boy days, but he was coming back to her church, then they were going to church together, and one evening before dark, she brought him to our house to meet the twins whom she loved as if they were her own.  Sometime around Christmas, Leroy and Patty would get married at their home church, and I sat there and wept until I had gone through a box of Kleenex, for my girls would be in the wedding party, “Patty/s girls, and it was a sweet wedding, for they would have the Unity candle, something I knew nothing about, nor had I ever been to a wedding where rings were not exchanged, but that was a part of their faith, that rings were artificially adorations of the body, not the symbol of marriage the rest of us saw.  They had exchanged watches which was permissible, and as church and country folks do, a nice reception followed, but they did not believe in the wine and champagne which we were accustomed to at a marriage. I will confess that I bought an expensive bottle of champagne, and as Patty opened her presents, she just looked at me and laughed, remarking in full humor, “You Devil,” but she also gave me the smile that said, “Leroy and I might just take advantage of this when no one else is looking,” for I knew that Patty was a chaste woman, and she was the essence of the Biblical bride for her groom.  I was crying that night for selfish reasons also, for it would be Patty’s goal to have a little one very soon during the early years of their marriage, but she could no longer be our child helper, for she would be the teacher, the dutiful wife with dinner on the table, and even now, I feel tears welling up in my eyes, not just because my girls are grown, but because I remember how sad it was when I realized Patty now had a home of her own, and our time together as friends would be so limited.  I never thought of her as employee, and for most people who would ever work at my house; it is true that they would leave as a friend.  I was going to miss this woman who could have easily been a younger sister with a deep sadness.

  I knew though, this was her time, what she had prayed for throughout her years, for a good husband, for a home near her folks, and for a little one.  I had to stop being an idiot and crying over the loss of the person who shared our house over a couple of years as much as we could get her.  It was the end of Patty trying to tell us stories of her students or of our girls, and I could not grieve watching a friend going forth in the most joyful moment of a serious Faith Church girl’s life.  I just could not wait to hear that a child was going to be born.

  Time would pass, and many other challenges and gifts would surface in our lives.  Patty was doing exactly what I thought she would, being the ultimate wife and still teaching at her little school.  There was no time for visiting, and we would only get to see her a couple of times over that next year.  We would have some years which seemed like an awful dream at times, my husband having a bypass surgery, and a little granddaughter would come in to our lives from a difficult relationship one of our sons was involved in.  We would move to a different house, and I would begin a different job, and the visits albeit disappeared.  I would get a call though, for Patty had to let me know that a new baby was on the way, so it was a happy call, and I would hear the joy that was the living fountain, women at ancient wells sharing the good news; “A baby is to be born!”  Only a few weeks later, a friend from Patty’s church community would give me the very bad news, that Patty had lost the baby, so I would call her, and we would talk again, and I would say all of the useless things we endeavor to console women with after a child is lost, and Patty would just say that, “God knew best.”

  I would see her at the twins first communion party, and we would begin to loose contact, for she and I both had much more than we could possibly do to take care of all that we needed to.  Some of you do not understand yet how time can wash like the small spring which disappears.  You do not forget the joys, the sorrows, or the people within it.  I knew that our Patty did not have her baby, and the next thing I knew, we were living back in San Francisco, and too many years would have passed, so the next time I would send Dear Patty and Leroy an invitation, it would be after Mary’s graduation as a vet tech from Hocking College in Ohio, and I would have to help Mary put the wedding together with her in Georgia with her betrothed, and with us in San Francisco.  Patty and Leroy were among my absolute first invitations to come to the wedding where the same Priest who gave Mary her first Communion would also be there to marry her to her Kevin who was leaving the Air Force after a long career, and I do not doubt that Patty and I both had the boxes of Kleenex out when our tiny bride in her beautifully chosen wedding gown stood at the front altar taking her vows as a wife.  Oh my!  Mary would have a wonderful day, and usually shy, she was leading all of the dancing, and there was our Patty, and she was now at a different school.  Some gray was appearing in her hair, and after all of the congratulations, she looked at me and said, “You know, we lost our baby.”  I knew then she had forgotten that I knew, but I listened, and I told her those words which I could get out, “Just think of all the first graders you have been a mother to all of these years,” and she said, “I know, God is so good,” and there was even a little laugh which I heard, for she was recalling something from her classroom.

  That was five years ago, and I am going to tell you that I may be the last person who you want to contact on Facebook, for I take a quick look now and then, or if I think I have some pictures or a note, but I do not communicate on Facebook, for it is too open for me.  I tell people on Facebook the truth, that if you want to get something to me; Then you can message me, and you will get a response, though I have been a little better as of late.  I looked on Facebook last week, for I wanted to check on Patty, and there I saw her beautiful face, but the smile was gone, so I began to read.  The message is that she has Multiple Myeloma, and it has gone to her bones, so her spine is now fully disintegrated, and there were words of love from others, so I immediately answered.  For you who do not know, and it will be most of you; Multiple Myeloma begins in the bone marrow, and that is when you want to catch it and start the treatment, for then the cells which are supposed to feed and form bone have just misread everything, and the bones can fracture with just moving a patient in a hospital bed which is where our beautiful Patty was when the picture was made.  As usual, the note which I wrote to her asked her to please, go to a larger cancer center where there is a chance to get in to some trials of other and new medications, for this is a ruthless cancer.

  Patty’s answer was, “God has been so gracious to me and Leroy, for the friends from church bring prayers, food, and help them however they can.  She said they were thinking of going to a center in Philadelphia which gave me some hope, and she loves her physician here who, ‘Has been so kind.”  I am praying for a miracle, and I want all who read this to pray for a miracle.  Let the first miracle be that she gets some relief from her pain; “Oh please God, Patty has loved, taught, and adored you all of these years, so ease her pain.”  I want her to be a person who is actually healed from some magic stem cell concoction which one can only get in Philadelphia, or I want this to be a night like no others, when the cure for Multiple Myeloma is found.  I want a merciful God to show that miracles are, and I want Patty to see the cancer begin to dissolve, for new bone to form. In all of her pain, that she can respond of the graciousness of God tells me that I do not even know the broad path to loving and trusting God to do the right thing, for I want my friend to be healed!  I will not forsake her again, and I will see that Mary and I get there to see her, and we can let her feel the warm spring breezes on the same swing where she and Leroy courted.  I am talking to my Redemmor, and I am begging for this beautiful soul and spirit by all that is miraculous, glorious, and the blessing of The Holy Trinity to let her be old when I am even older, and let us make up for some lost time.

  I am so selfish, for I learned from my Hospice patients, and I learned from my own blood clots, that mercy, goodness, and holiness is not always wishing for saving grace, but I am still asking, and I may never tell you the end of this story, for Patty would tell you right now. “There is one thing I can see looking back at life, and it is all the goodness and gracious deeds which The Good Lord Provides.”  That is her way, and who she has always been, and she will be praying constantly through all of this, not for herself but for the others who are suffering, because we cannot help.  If healing occurs, then it is God’s will, and Patty wants us to stop and not consider the hours but to consider the quality of them. 

  I tell you about the angels in my early life who just seemed to appear in, “Pinkhoneysuckle,”, but the story had to end before you would meet my angels like, Patty.  Through her life, I am certain that I met another angel when she entered our home, and a child was doing drugs, when my husband was dying, but no surgeon would do the open heart, for he had a sinus infection which would spread to his whole body on bypass, when I was so tired from work that I thought my body was floating on the ceiling, and people in the room were going to realize I had left my body — That tired, then along came Patty.  I met the gift of grace through blessed intervention of this wonderful young woman who came in to our home, who would be there in times so difficult that I almost wanted to deny that we ever lived such an existence, but this time, this hour, I am just going to ask you to pray for Patty, if only once, and believe that there are people among us who will ask for nothing — But they will give us everything, and there is one message they want us to hear and to feel at the end of any day, no matter the cost, “God, you are so gracious; How can anyone show so much love and kindness.”  When Patty flies from here, she will ask me to remind you of this, the wonderful news.”

  “Lord hear our prayer for Patty Cox Cheney,”  even my own selfish prayer for her healing.  Barbara Everett Heintz

   

   

   

   

   

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