Fifty-four Years

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café

As a young co-ed part of a college youth group, I regularly participated in the group’s nursing home services.  We would sing for the residents and then spend some time visiting with them.  One experience from that time is etched in my brain.  I was listening to a gentleman as he was telling me about the loss of his wife.  I asked how long they had been married.  He responded, “Fifty four years.”  Having spent my senior year in a number of short-lived dating relationships, fifty-four years sounded like an eternity to me.  “Oh! Such a long time!”  A big tear came sliding down his cheek as he said, “Not nearly long enough.” 

This week I learned that my best friend from grade school had died recently. When her husband received my Christmas letter containing new contact information, he called me immediately.  He sadly described her fall that resulted in some brain damage and ultimately caused her death.  In the midst of telling me this, he cried out, “We were married fifty-four years!”  And I could sense in that refrain that it, too, was “not nearly long enough.”

Despite being mortal creatures, recognizing at some level that the days are numbered for all of us, we may still react to the death of a loved one as though we have been cheated out of more time.  The only antidote would seem to be to focus on the present moment as a gift of time and to accept the challenge to make the most of it. 

Even though my response to the widower at the nursing home was a bit insensitive, apparently even at that time in my life, I had some awareness of the present moment. During that same year as the nursing home visits, I penned these words:

The good times are for now.

They last like a child’s laughter

Or as his fleeting, tender tears.

I dare not rush them

In my eagerness for more;

Nor delay them

Out of fear that few remain.

For today is neither the beginning

nor the end.

The invitation is open to share “two cups of tea” anytime at Hope’s Café, or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate