I heard the chime of the notification on my phone but didn’t open the app right away. I was in the middle of doing something else and would see what it said as soon as I was finished.
Forty-five minutes later, I opened the message and read the words. Words that didn’t make any sense but as they began to sink in, I debated with myself for several more minutes. This is surely a joke, right? But WHY would she be joking about this?This ISN’T a joke. Do I call? Do I want to bother her? It’s been forty-five minutes since the chime pinged on my phone…maybe she’s busy.
I think my heart just really didn’t want to know it was true. But it was real. It was a shock. It was an unwanted change to what was comfortable and secure…and life. What would I say?
I called. And I didn’t say much except that I was so very sorry to hear what had happened. And then I listened. I listened to her words, her stories, and her wisdom.
We all know the body will die. We all know our loved ones will also die. But it’s something we choose to ignore. Almost as though if we don’t think about it or we don’t talk about it, it won’t really happen. But it will. It’s the shock of an accident that really rocks our world. It’s the time we are least expecting the inevitable to happen that creates an upside down world. One that we weren’t ready for. One that seems unfair. One that doesn’t make any sense.
I listened to her thoughts, her words, her strength and her stories. The memory of the mashed potatoes stuck with me and I felt needed to be shared.
For thirty-eight years, she took care of her harvester. Attempted to be his conscience when it came to good health and good choices. That’s what we do. We try to be that conscience-sort-of-voice reminding them they really don’t need that extra piece of bread. Or that extra shake of salt. Or maybe we should go for a walk rather than just sitting on the couch. Or, how about this one…slow down!
When it comes right down to it, we can only offer words of concern. It’s up to the person whether they will listen. Whether they will make the right choice.
A couple of nights prior to the accident, she made beef and noodles for her harvester. When she made this meal, I’m certain she wouldn’t realize just how important it would become to her. It would become one of the first memories she would recall and think about while talking to me.
The “argument” wasn’t anything new. “I’d like to have mashed potatoes with my beef and noodles”, he told her. “No, you don’t have mashed potatoes with noodles”, she responded. She was only being a caring wife. “I’d like to have mashed potatoes with my beef and noodles. I’m going to die someday anyways.”
She made the mashed potatoes. And I’m certain that made her harvester happy.
After she told me the story, she said, “I’m so glad I made the mashed potatoes.”
Life is short. Our days, hours and minutes with our loved ones are so important. You never know when it could be the last. We get so involved with life and what it takes to keep things happening as we think it should that death isn’t even considered.
Be intentional with your time and with those people who are so important to you. Hug them a bit tighter and a little longer. Tell them you love them.
And…make mashed potatoes!
1. Be ready to go at the drop of a hat...sometimes without a lunchbox.
2. Has removed the word impossible from her vocabulary!
3. Can hold a baby, take care of a toddler and drive a tractor or combine all at the same time.
4. Must be able to cook for a crew - large or small.
5. Must be able to read minds.
6. Must be able to banter with a parts man until he realizes you DO know what you're talking about.
7. Must be the entertainment director for those rainy days.
8. Be a wife, mom, friend, helper, cook, problem solver, taxi driver or extra crew hand at all times.
9. Can handle the call that makes you react, "You need what? When?" Dropping everything you're doing to make it happen.
10. At the end of the day say, "I really do love this life".