Bah, Humbug!

Everywhere I look, it is getting harder to fool myself: Christmas is coming, Christmas is coming!  But my heart wonders if it will really feel like Christmas this year.

Think of all of the characters that hate Christmas (i.e. The Grinch, Ebeneezer Scrooge).  All of those characters rolled up in one big ball would just begin to describe the EXACT OPPOSITE of my Mema.  So many of my Christmas memories revolve around her.  She always made it special.

When I was a child, Mema worked as the activities director at Oakdale Manor Nursing Home.  I remember going up to the nursing home to help Mema decorate.  As long as she worked there, the residents enjoyed elaborately decorated trees in the dining rooms and lobby areas, each with its own theme.  She also made sure there were lights and Christmas scenes outside.  There was also a Christmas party for the residents, complete with a live performance from the Glenwood Trio.  Oh, and me too.  I would sing for the residents, and it was a highlight of the season for me. 


Mema's own home was always decorated to the hilt.  Complete with tree, fireplace decorations, special placemats, and outdoor lights.  We all gathered at her house for a Christmas Eve celebration.  Everyone tried to be there on Christmas Eve, even if we had to spend Christmas Day somewhere else.  For the past several years, we all would bring a "Mens" or "Ladies" gift, and Mema made us play the "Right Family Game."  Basically, she would read us this story and every time she said "right" we passed the gifts to the right, "left" to the left.  We all rolled our eyes all the way through it, but it was fun.

Oh, and let's not for get about the Church!  She loved to have the church decorated and to have some kind of special Christmas service.  As us kiddos got older, she always gave us an opportunity to think of something creative to do.  Someone would write a play, or a skit, and we'd all make fools of ourselves.


 

And the Carols!  Oh, the Carols! She loved to go caroling.  Whether in the neighborhood or to a retirement center, she loved to go sing the Carols!

And now, she's gone.  I'm happy for her.  She's in the best place to celebrate Jesus' birthday.  But I am having waves of bittersweet emotions.  Last Saturday, Mom, Emily and I went and decorated Mema's tree.  Ok, it's Papa's tree too, but will forever in my mind be hers.  I could hear her voice telling me to turn the light on in the dark living room so I could see.  I cried the whole time.  

Christmas 2010

As hard as it's going to be to celebrate this season with out her, I'll do my best.  I'll put away my "bah, humbug" attitude.  It's what she would want.  This weekend at church is our special Christmas service. We'll sing the carols.  The kids will act out the Christmas story. Emily is playing her flute.  We'll make new memories, but keep the old....one is silver and the other's gold.   Merry Christmas, Mema!!

Blessed are those who mourn....

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.  Matthew 5:4 NIV

I have to admit, I've read this verse over and over as part of the Beatitudes, and never really gave it much thought.  Yeah, yeah, the poor are blessed, the meek are blessed, the hungry and thirsty are blessed.  But it sure is kind of hard to see the blessing when you are in the middle of being hungry or mourning the loss of  a loved one.  Where is the blessing in loosing someone who was one of the single most important people in your world?

Mema's been gone almost six months.  Sometimes I miss her so much it hurts.  I see a woman walking through Walmart, and for half a second out of the corner of my eye....  No, not her.  Something wonderful or tragic happens and I pick up the phone to call...  Oh, yeah.  Nevermind.  Where's the blessing?

Then I think about that day in the hospital when we knew it was the end.  I called my friend, Marsha and she hopped out of bed early that Saturday morning and sped to the hospital with a bag of diet sodas and a box of Puffs.  (Really, she sped.  The police officer took pitty on her when he saw her genuine tears.)  Then, there's my friend Molly who showed up early that afternoon with a tray of fruit, some chocolate, another box of tissues, and those little whispy toothbrush things.  There's my friends Jennifer and Kellie who took such good care of my daughter while emotions were running high and I just needed to be "Granddaugher" and save "Mommy" for another day.  The hospital staff.  Our family members.  Our pastors and church family.  They all gathered as we awaited her homegoing.  And I was comforted.  I was blessed. 

In the days and weeks that followed, I kept thinking back on that time in the ICU waiting room, and on all of the cards, flowers, donations to Susan G. Komen, and hugs that followed.  Mema was loved and honored, and I was blessed. 

Friday, in the park down the street from our church, a tragedy happened.  A 9 year-old girl was digging a tunnel in the sand.  It caved in on her and she was found, dead.  My heart is heavy for the family of that little girl.  They didn't have any warning.  They didn't get to say goodbye.  They let their precious child go to the park to play and she never came home.  Right now they are mourning.  I sure hope they will someday look back and feel blessed.  I'm not sure how, but the Bible says they will be.  Blessed doesn't mean you get what you want.  It means you get what you need.  Sometimes we look at being blessed as having more than enough.  But in times like these, we must look to God as our portion--for today.  And tomorrow, we have to look to Him as our portion again--for that day.  Day by day, we get what we need, and we are blessed. 

My mother reminded me today of when Mema used to sit on the bench at school and wait for the girls.  Her group of special children grew and grew.  She would sit there and wait on them to get out of school so she could hug them and ask them about their day.  Momma thinks Mema was up in heaven, sitting on the bench, waiting on Hannah.  And she's hugging her, asking her about her day, and showing her all over heaven.  I like the thought of that.  The Bible says that in Heaven, we will be known as we are known here on earth.  I think the children in Heaven will know that my Mema will be their Mema too. 

My 9-11 Memories....

September 11, 2001, I was teaching Pre-K at Chouteau Elementary School in Tulsa, Oklahoma.  I left the class with my teacher's assistant to go to the office for a reason I can no longer remember.  I walked in to a strange sight of the entire office staff glued to the television screen.  I looked up just in time to watch as the second plane hit the tower.  Suddenly, my little corner of the globe seemed like a very scary place. 

I'm not sure the exact order of events that followed.  As with most people, I think I walked around in shock.  But I know that one of the first things I did was call my Mema.  I knew that she would be at home, taking care of my baby girl who was just sixteen months old.  I knew that she probably saw the whole thing unfold, as she always watched "Six in the Morning."  I also knew that just hearing her voice would make me feel a whole lot safer.

I always called Mema.  When something bad happened, when something good happened, when absolutely nothing was happening.  And she always had time to talk to me.  She was the best listener in the world!  My compulsion to call her was only escalated by owning a cell phone.  Suddenly a boring drive down the turnpike could turn into a gab session.  And it was a compulsion to call her.  IS a compulsion to call her.  Even now that she has been gone for three months, I still find myself picking up my phone whenever something great happens, or something bad happens, or.... 

But, she is gone.  I can still ring her number, but everyone knows that Papa isn't really a "phone-a-friend" type.  So, I find myself doing what she always told me I should do anyway:  Talk to God about it.  He and I have been having a lot of discussions about things that are great, things that are horrible, etc.  And you know what, He's a good listener too!  Maybe one day I will be able to listen like that.  Maybe my grandchildren will have that compulsion to call me.  I hope so.

Because that fateful day--I was no where near New York City, but I felt the pain and the fear of our entire nation.  But I knew that the most important treasure--My Emily--was home with Mema, oblivious to it all.  She was safe.  I hung up that phone, took a deep breath, and put on my happy teacher face for my young students--the treasures of other parents.

Psalm 91:1 (NKJV)

He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

The Glenwood Trio

After Mema and Papa started Glenwood Full Gospel Church, they had a radio program.  Papa would preach and Mema, my mom, and my aunt Patti would sing.  (Papa is one of those family members that is less musically inclined.)  The radio program came and went, but the church and the Glenwood Trio became lasting standards for years to come.

When I was little, I spent a lot of time traveling around with "The Trio."  We used to joke because people would book "The Trio" and then fifteen people would descend upon them.  The band and those that traveled with us changed a bit over the years, but we NEVER only traveled as a "trio".  Eventually we changed the name to "The Glenwoods" so people wouldn't be so surprised when we unloaded off of the bus.

The trio sang at churches all over Oklahoma, Texas, Kansas, and Missouri.  We went to prisons, nursing homes, outdoor singings, etc.  They made two local recordings and four in Nashville.  Mostly, the songs that were recorded were original songs.  If you'd like to take a listen, Janet Gaulding Arnold has posted them on a Facebook page.

I am posting several pictures of "The Trio" through the years.  This is something that brought Mema so much joy.  The past several years, we haven't been traveling.  But we have a singing at our church every month.  Mema sang with the trio at the singing up until the very end.  Now, when the trio sings, I sing Mema's part.  It makes me feel so close to her--and makes me miss her--all at the same time.

Shirley (drums), Kathy (Guitar), Janet (Bass), Patti (Alto), Helen (Tenor), Sharon (Lead and Piano)--Late 1970's-ish

"Just in Time" Album Cover Photo.  I got to go with them to Nashville for this recording/photo shoot. 

The last album cover--"Rejoice"--circa 1989

Mid-1980's

Janet's van--I was the "co-pilot"

Our upgraded ride--Silver Eagle--Travel first class!!

Tanya Tucker once toured on this bus--with some fiddler guy.

Gotta Keep Singing....

Mema is on the left, holding the song-book.

Pretty much anyone that knew my Mema, or has spent any time with our family, probably knows how much she loved to sing.  According to family stories, she came by this trait honestly.  Grandma Versie taught all her kids to sing, and sing harmony.  Mema then taught all her kids.  The Aerys (and their derivatives) are a very musically talented family.  We have singers, songwriters, musicians of all types.  Of course, we also have the token "can only play the radio" types, but we love them anyway.

Front Row:  Mema, Gene, Wanna

Mema sang in churches and on local radio and television programs.  She was in a singing group with her pastor, Gene Winfrey and his wife Wanna.  Don't ask me who these other people are, because this photo WAY pre-dates me:

Papa was traveling around to different churches ministering, Mema was teaching Sunday School and singing in various places.  But, this was the 1950-60's.  When people in their church circles found out that Mema had been divorced, they were no longer allowed to minister in certain capacities.

But, the gifts and callings of God are without repentance.  And God knew about their past before He called them into the ministry.  So, Mema and Papa left the baptist church and joined the independent Free Full Gospel Fellowship.  It was this experience that drove Papa's decision that Glenwood Full Gospel Church would be non-denominational.  That we would accept anyone and give them an opportunity to work for the Lord. 

As they struck out on their own, first meeting in homes and then later acquiring a little store-front building at 5300 Charles Page Boulevard, the musicians Mema worked with were home-grown.   She started out singing with her brother, Kenneth, and his wife Carolyn.  Later on, she taught my mom and my aunt, Patti to sing harmony, and the Glenwood Trio was born.  More on this to come....

Kenneth, Carolyn and Mema...at the old church building at 

5300 Charles Page Blvd. in Tulsa

Sharon, Patti, Helen--My Mom, Aunt, and Mema--The Glenwood Trio

Baby Sister

Well, Reader, you have already met my Uncle John and my mother, Sharon.  While countless others looked to my Mema as a mother figure, she actually birthed only one more child:  my Aunt Patti.  My mother was four when Patti was born.   Mom and Patti have always been close, but when Patti was born--Mom wanted to run away from home. 

Aparently, when Mema was pregnant with Patti, she was sick all of the time.  She was in labor for twenty-one days, and then Patti was born with bronchitis, and they even thought she might have had diptheria.  I guess when Baby Sister finally got to come home from the hospital, she cried alot.  My mother, four years old, decided to gather up all of the pop bottles she could find.  She packed a bag, loaded the bottles up in her little red wagon, and started pulling it down the street.  Papa was sitting out on the porch, and seeing her, asked her where she was going.  She said she was going to the store.  She was going to sell her bottles and leave town, because the baby cried all the time and made her mommy sick.  Papa just shook his head and said "Can I come too?"  Momma told him he could, so they went to the store, sold the bottles, and spent the money on candy.  Papa told her that babies couldn't eat candy, so Momma decided to come home.  And, that was that. 

Mom and Patti have always been close.  I love the stories I've always heard about Momma locking Patti out of the house so that she couldn't track mud on the floor, and Mom tricking Patti into singing her to sleep at night.  They may pick at each other, but God help the person that tries to pick on one with the other around. 

I think Papa set the tone of their family future that day when he ran away with Momma.  He really listened to her, and gave credance to her feelings.  I think that is so important for children.  As irrational as we may think their feelings and fears are, they are absolutely real to them.  And, trust me, I have known children with more insight than most adults.  Children need to be taught to trust their feelings and given the confidence and opportunity to express themselves.  If they aren't given that chance, they learn that their feelings aren't important.  They stuff things down inside, and it makes them insecure. 

Some people think that children should be seen and not heard.  Hmm...  Then how are they ever supposed to work out their thoughts and learn to communicate them?  No, children should be taught the appropriate time and place to voice themselves. 

When God Answers...

My master's degree diploma arrived in the mail last Friday. 

I decided to go graduate school about the same time that Mema was diagnosed with cancer.  I almost used her illness as an excuse to back out of the whole thing, but she would hear nothing of it.  She wanted me to follow my dreams, and always encouraged me to get all the education I could.  I have to admit, I feel a little guilt over the amount of time I had to spend on school that took away from the time I could have spent with her.  She would get me if she ever heard me admit that, though.  You won't tell, will you?

The only picture I have of Mema at my graduation.  

About a week before my graduation, Mema started feeling bad again.  There was some discussion about whether or not she would even be able to attend.  This upset me, because having her watch me walk across that stage to have that hood draped over my head was one of the only reasons I even decided to go through the ceremony.  I didn't say anything, though, as she and my mother discussed the logistics of getting her there.  I left the room, and when I came back, she called me to the chair where she was sitting.  She told me that when she got sick, she asked the Lord to let her live long enough to see me graduate, and there was no way that she was going to miss it.  So, that was settled.  Arrangements were made to get her there in her wheelchair, and when they hooded me, I was looking right at her.  She had to leave before I could get back to see her, but she was there. 

It was a major ordeal for her to go to my graduation because she was so sick.  As a matter of fact, 18 days later, she had her own "graduation."  But, the Lord had granted her request and she felt she had to do her part to get that answer to prayer.  That is how it is sometimes.  We ask the Lord for something, but there is something we have to do on our side to receive the answer.  If she had stayed home, would that mean that God had let her down?  Nope.

I've been thinking about this in relation to my life right now.  Last spring, I asked the Lord to grant us favor in regard to the school where I work.  I wanted the faculty and students to be able to stay together, whether in our building or in a different one.  He gave us another place to call home.  But, boy, it has been a lot of work to get the place ready.  Everyone that works there, and many of the parents and community members have gone above and beyond the call of duty to make sure our students had a great place to come to school.  We had to do our part.

God isn't like a fairy godmother.  He doesn't wave a magic wand and make things appear for us.  Now, I'm not saying he couldn't, I'm just saying he doesn't work that way.  He moves through people.  He empowers us to be the best we can be.  He helps us to do great things.  So, when you pray for something, and God answers, be sure and listen to what he says!  Be willing to do your part, even when it's hard.