I wake up to the sweet smell of a huge flower basket in the
kitchen. It’s filling the house. I drift back to sleep with Emily repositioning
on my side. No paw in the face today, she is snuggling close… I need the
snuggle. I have been needing some for a while now.
 |
| Flowers delivered Friday afternoon to the house, courtesy of Chris and Larry |
As you may know, Charlene Main James passed quietly with her
children at her side, it was Monday evening. Anne had just flown in and the
complete support team was accounted for and present. It was time to stand and
deliver, and deliver Charlene to God’s good graces we did.
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| Sunday nite leaving the facility |
After her passing at the Hospice Center, a wonderfully
fantastic place of great and wonderful things, we were all afforded quiet time
alone with Charlene. When the time came
to leave, we were guided by staff as they rang the gong bowl, signifying our
passing thru the halls. Staff respectfully stood in the hall as we passed… Charlene,
covered in a wonderful quilt, was followed by family to the first floor, where
her first chariot awaited.
 |
| The third floor hall, it's a quiet place. |
Over the next few days we set about to make all the
preparations, the girls eased into these turbulent times with grace and
compassion. Where one would be unable to take the reins, the other would. Our
collective experience made these preparations quite helpful.
 |
| Our Booklet |
I took personal
satisfaction in hearing the song playing in the background about to end on a
solid note – the orchestra was poised and so was I… that last document edit was
to be completed with a period. I made that final entry on the orchestra’s High
last loud note… like it was planned.
Anne and I roared laughing… she my copy editor was in on the joke. Period, the music on the computer stopped –
we picked up laughing right in step… and we needed those moments. Timing is
everything.
Friday morning came and with less sleep than might have been
required we rallied to the call and made our movement to the east. Today we
would celebrate a life with so much richness and love to offer – it would be
hard. Together we would make it.
 |
| Anne leading the procession into church. |
I had done my preparation and practiced my piece of the
celebration, a wonderful interpretation interlaced with the words of
Matthew. I did my best, I fear I took
the congregation with me as I haltingly, passionately and emotionally presented
my deepest respect, love and feelings for Charlene.
Laura comforted me, “Uncle Jay,” she said, ”Your words
sounded much better than you imagine.” I know I did not help by struggling to
produce them, that is just not me – I usually find many words very easily.
And so I give you my prose:
Matthew
25
For I
was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me
something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I
needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in
prison and you came to visit me.’ I
don’t think anyone here has been in a prison, in the practical sense of the
word, But a prison sometimes has no walls.
And I am sure you received a call, a card or letter, or a visit from Charlene if you were ever in that place in your life.
And I am sure you received a call, a card or letter, or a visit from Charlene if you were ever in that place in your life.
I
first met Charlene in her front room on Huntington. 23 years ago? I had spent a
long day of travel from Baltimore. It was a solo drive and I was, to say the
least, quite road worn. She welcomed me in and offered me a seat, I recall her
looking at Marcy then to me and back to Marcy. I think she was wondering about
this young man whose only thought was to see her daughter after a long day in
the car. We all “Hit it off” almost immediately.
 |
| The Huntington House |
You
see, I was a stranger and she invited me in.
Fast
forward to a very snowy night during the winter and the weather channel was
correctly forecasting 23 inches of snow. Charlene and I were sitting in the
front room, Marcy napping on the bed in the back bedroom… pregnant with John –
dinner – probably Chicken Parmesan – in the oven. Snow licking at the windows
with a ferocious wind… we were safe and sound in the circle of love… it’s
possible that this was during the few weeks we were living there between
apartments(?). Charlene had our back.
 |
| The Huntington House - under a blanket of snow. |
We
needed shelter and a place to rest - she provided both, we were hungry- and
yes… she fed us.
As
things progressed and Little John arrived – Char was there too. The countless
nights afternoons and days she visited us during those tumultuous times. We
were in for quite the ride. I can see her now standing over the isolate in the
Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Children's, or in the make shift dining room
care center in our condo off of Golf road.
Right there in the midst of our experience.
 |
| Charlene and Marcy at the NICU with "Little John" |
 |
| Charlene and John in our makeshift medical nursery |
We
were sick and she looked after us.
This
was the tone of our relationship. Char was always there for us, I know she was
there for many of you too. We spent countless hours discussing life and it’s
fickle ways. Her youth. Growing up in
Wilmette, her father and her mother and of course her children. Her thoughts and
our conversations were often about her children and grand children.
I
regularly saw first hand her thoughtfulness, love, compassion and concern for
Lynn Debbie Marcy and Leslie. Her faith
kept her strong, she followed the compass – his guiding light. Cut
from a different cloth, a very special lady and one of a kind.
You
all know we could never keep her out of the kitchen during dinner or right
after dinner! She would either be refilling water glasses, fetching a little of
that or some of this… cleaning a dish or wrapping a take home plate. Service to
her guests family friends was readily apparent. It was hard for her to let us
take care of the dishes or the table. She would always somehow sneak off to the
kitchen, no matter how we tried to keep her at the table. And we tried – even
when assigned the task we would somehow fail.
As
time grew short and less was more – she still had a thoughtful word or touch
for all those folks around her. A quiet thank you may have been all she would
muster – but she would. A slight nod or a little squeeze . Being taken care of was not in her jeans…
giving it up to those helping hands was not easy for Charlene. It was so great to see her girls circle of
care, I know she appreciated it.
“What
you say is true,” a phrase I hear in my head now. One she would say to me now
and again. I know she would say it to me today.
Charlene,
Char, Mom, Nonnie – Thank you for your love and your guidance. Thank you for
being a friend, and a confidant - I know your heart is true. I see it reflected
back at me by the many folks in this room.
One
last memory.
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| Lynn and Anne take a little extra time at the corner for me to capture this image... yes that's the Nissan |
It’s
evening we have said our goodbyes and I look to the East where a little blue
Nissan sits at the traffic light, right turn signal flashing. Char is on her way home…. In about 35 minutes
we’ll receive a call that she has arrived safely…
No
need to call this time, but if by chance you do…
We
will happily answer the call, because we’ll know you've arrived safe and sound. Truly
She is on her way home now...
 |
| The moon arises with two stars to the right.... |
Two
stars to the right Char and straight on
til morning…
__________________________________________
I have to say a special
thank you to the girls.
I left the alter
destroyed… they received me, hugged me and comforted me – even in their time of
need.
Wonder where they learned
to do that?
: )
So well said, heart felt and beautiful. She was proud to have you say these words at her funeral, I'm certain.
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