Saturday, August 31, 2024
I taught an older adult Sunday School class for several years. It consisted of people primarily between the ages of 60 and 90, many who were widows or widowers. The class was not named the “older adult class,” but it clearly was. The previous Sunday School teacher had moved to west Texas to be near his children, and the group had approached me to teach the class. I am very certain they did not pick me for my wealth of biblical knowledge but rather because they envisioned me bringing life to a class, which over time had lost its forward momentum. Taking the role has been one of the great pleasures of my life.
One of my favorite class members was Earlene. She was a widow with a big personality and love of life. She always had a smile on her face and was the kind of person who made you smile when you saw her walking toward you. When my mother died, her funeral was 300 miles away, and I nearly fell out of my chair when Earlene walked through the funeral home door on the night of Mom’s visitation. She and a friend had driven all that way because she thought I might need her. She was right.
One night, months later, I was having a dinner party at my home for about 10 people, and, of course, Earlene was on the invitation list. The night we gathered she arrived looking like a million dollars. Her hair was freshly done, as was her makeup, and she was wearing a matching ensemble that gave her an elegant appearance.
As guests arrived and assembled in the living room, I happened to look down and noticed the most peculiar sight. Evidently Earlene had been in a rush when she got dressed because the shoes she was wearing did not match! I immediately pointed out the error to her and good naturedly kidded her for the rest of the evening. Earlene explained that she tried on both shoes because she wanted to see how they looked with her outfit. She somehow had left the house without making the final decision.
I kept kidding Earlene throughout the evening. Finally, without anger or angst, she looked at me and said, “Sam, I am 84 years old, and I do silly things all the time. It is part of getting older.” She went on to say, “I just hope that in about 15 years when you do something silly, you can hear my voice up in heaven laughing at you saying, ‘I told you your day was coming.’” It was a fun evening and a memory I will never forget.
This past week had been a long one for me. I had started early and stayed late all week at work. On Friday, I decided instead of going to work at the crack of dawn as I usually do, I would treat myself to breakfast at the local café. I was giving myself a chance to relax a little bit before I started the last day of the week.
I jumped out of bed, showered and shaved as usual, but since it was Friday, I decided to dress a little more casual than usual. I slipped into some jeans and grabbed a golf shirt off a hanger and was out the door. My wife had been a little under the weather the prior couple of days, and I was trying to be quiet and not wake her. For whatever reason, I did not take a glance in the mirror before I shot out the door.
When I arrived at the café, I sat down, and the attentive waitress brought me a first cup of coffee. I immediately put the cup up to my lips and took a slow, satisfying sip, only for the silence to be interrupted by the voice of my server saying, “your shirt is inside out.”
It took me a second to let the words soak in. It did not make sense, and then I looked down and could see the shirt I was wearing was inside out! Evidently, when I did laundry and hung the shirt up, I had placed it on the hanger inside out. When I dressed that morning, I had slid the shirt on and never took a second to check how I looked in the mirror. I had merely bounded down the steps, jumped in the car, and drove to the café.
I was mortified and sheepishly thanked the waitress and retired to the restroom to switch my shirt around.
Walking back to my table, I could hear a voice in my head, laughing away at my self-induced embarrassment. Earlene, I am glad I could make you smile. I bet it isn’t the last time.
Thought for the day: If you learn to laugh at yourself, you will be entertained for a lifetime.
Until next time … I will keep ridin’ the storm out.
