Did I mention that I met the General at church? I don’t actually remember the year, but she probably was in the preschool department. I was older. I was in elementary school. At least, that’s the way I remember it.
During my growing up years most of my activities were centered around church or school activities. My network of friends could be found in either of those venues. When I left for college and moved out into the world to pursue my dreams, I lost contact with the vast majority of friends from childhood. The “Father Knows Best” era of the past was very different from the world we live in today. For one thing, we didn’t have the computer or internet as a vehicle to stay connected. Any written communication was through correspondence mailed through the U.S. Post Office. Of course, a stamp was only five cents, but the associated investment of time to write a letter seemed inconvenient. Did I mention that long distant telephone calls were reserved for immediate family? As a general rule, friends didn’t call friends long distance just to talk. The associated expense was a deterrent. We were not living in a decade of affluence. It was a very different world back then.
Truthfully, I’m not sure I really wanted to take the time away from our normal routine to attend the 75th anniversary activities at a church I’ve not attended since childhood. Did I mention the General said we were going? I probably could have drawn a line in the sand and said, “I’m not going. I don’t have the time”, but there is an unmistakable element of truth to the adage “happy wife – happy life.”
In retrospect, I’m glad we attended. For one thing, it was important to the General’s mother. Yet, despite the fact that it was important to her, she had not mentioned to us the church was celebrating their 75th anniversary and that there were planned activities for both Saturday and Sunday. She made the assumption that we had other commitments and could not (or would not) come. Consequently, she didn’t even tell us about it. The General says that she doesn’t spend much time on Facebook, but it was through that forum that she learned of the plans for the 75th celebration. The General’s mother continues to be intricately involved in that church. Actually, I didn’t know it until that Saturday, but Treva’s parents were married in that church. I learned that from overhearing Treva’s mother talking with another lady at the dinner on Saturday night. Treva’s mother mentioned that the lady was the longest tenured member of the church. The lady agreed with her and went on to say, “I sang at your wedding.” Consequently, Treva’s parents spent the totality of their married life involved in the fellowship of that family of faith.
Treva and I were married in that church as well. In fact, the pastor who officiated at our wedding was present on both Saturday and Sunday for the activities. In addition, there were a host of people from our childhood in attendance. Truthfully, I would never have recognized some of them if I passed them on the street. Four and a half plus decades can alter one’s appearance pretty significantly. Did I mention that in our age group, of all the people who were there, the General had changed the least in physical appearance and still has that youthful vitality about her? Of course, I maintain that she lives a charmed life. However, she might differ with my opinion.
Interestingly, the thing I found fascinating was the immediate reconnection we had with folks from long ago. It didn’t seem awkward or uncomfortable. We didn’t struggle to find things to talk about. It just felt good. It felt like home.
Several former Sunday School teachers and adults who worked in the youth program at church during my childhood years were present for the dinner on Saturday night and the service on Sunday morning. Interestingly, they mostly looked the same. It was really good to reconnect with them. It was also a welcomed opportunity for me to simply say “thank you for the significant investment you made in my life.”
One of the people that I most wanted to spend time with was also present. Mary Lou, the wife of the pastor I was closest to during my childhood was present. Her husband, Gerald, died about six years ago. Because of their significance in my life, I attended Gerald’s funeral service. I’m sure I left the funeral service with intentions of staying in contact with Mary Lou, but you know what they say about good intentions. Our reconnection at the 75th anniversary dinner on Saturday night was only the second or third time I’ve seen her since Gerald’s funeral.
I telephoned Mary Lou yesterday just to say hello. Before I could do more than identify myself, she took charge of the conversation and excitedly said, “The thing at church was awesome.” We talked for several minutes before I said goodbye with the promise to stay in touch.
I later thought about what Mary Lou had said, “The thing at church was awesome.” I agreed with her. It was awesome! My life was enriched from having been a participant. But what was awesome? There was no planned program on Saturday night. There was a shared meal. The meal was good, but I wouldn’t have characterized it as awesome. The thing that was awesome was the opportunity to reconnect with people with whom we were once connected.
Each of us has the ability to orchestrate or arrange for that same sense of “awesome” on a regular basis. We can do that by simply investing the time to reach out to someone with whom we have lost contact. The lyrics to the song, “People - People who need people are the luckiest people in the world” is partially correct. I say “partially correct” because people (all people) were created to need people. “It is not good for man to be alone” is endemic of how we are hardwired to live in community. In addition, our recognition of that is more than luck. It is God given.
Why not reward yourself by having an awesome experience? It takes effort and there are some risks involved, but why not take the initiative to reach out and reconnect with a family member or friend? If you need more of a sense of “awesome” in your life, I can’t think of a better formula to make that happen.
All My Best!
Don