She's On The Dance Floor Now

    There's rejoicing all over heaven and I don't doubt that it's quite loud up there. My fiery and peppery friend, Phyllis Brandt, took a final two-step over onto the ultimate dance floor. I will surely miss my perky and feisty friend, that's for sure.

    The picture above was taken several years ago when we celebrated Phyllis' 80th birthday. From left to right is my friend Amy, then my mother, Naomi; seated next is Opal, then me, then Donna (Phyllis' daughter) and of course, Phyllis. That was a special day of celebration for my dear friend, although I remember it being quite a challenge to get Phyllis to agree on some sort of party. I am grateful that Donna was persistent. Later, there's no doubt, Phyllis loved every minute of the lavish attention.

    Phyllis was nothing like my own mother. My mother tried to be a bit more refined, a tad shy at times and always tried to be dignified and cultured. Phyllis, on the other hand, was more brash and bold, extremely loyal, but always speaking whatever was on her mind with that true South Philadelphia flare. Donna and I would laugh because we wondered whose mother was who's?? Phyllis could surely have been my mother, that's for sure. And Donna? Well, there's no doubt, with her dignity and decorum, she should have been Naomi's daughter.

    In while it's so hard to say good-bye, the memories of those little visits inspire me today. I can almost hear her saying, "OH, I'm fine. You know, Alan and Donna take good care of me." And indeed they do. 

    She adored her children, her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She especially loved Pie, her cat. Pie finally comes out to greet me on my last visit with her. This is rare. Phyllis says Pie is afraid of most people. I bend down to pet Pie and Phyllis says, "You must be something special 'cause she don't come out for nobody."

    "No, whatever the special vibe I'm exuding to Pie comes from the fact that I'm probably as loud and brash as you, Phyllis, so she's used to that."

    Thank you, my friend, for letting me love you and your bouncy bubbly self. No one will ever replace you in my heart. Dance on, my sister. Dance on.

Also posted at sueduffield.com

Grandma, Get Your Groove On!

The great thing about getting older is that you don't lose all the other ages you've been. ~Madeleine L'Engle Oh, how I love this quote by a truly great writer.. This is why it's so CRUCIAL to have our mature and aging generation an integral part of evangelical, inspirational, corporate worship and ministry endeavors within the church. To exclude them, is like spiritual euthanasia. And one day, if you ignored them or made them invisible in your ministry as a leader, be assured - you'll be a part of the very group you once excluded. And very lonely, I might add..

I felt this strongly this morning, as I could barely get out of bed! You see, yesterday I did enough yard work - cutting of shrubbery, tree limbs, pulling weeds, mowing the lawn that my fifty-five year old body said to me, "OK, you are older now. You aren't able to do as much as you used to!" (or so it seems!) This, however, didn't affect my mind, spirit or passion one bit! I still am ME, whether my new hair growth (gray-haired roots!) blind you, or if I can't do the walkathons I used to do, or hike the mountains in a frivolous trot! I'm still a viable, loving contributor to this race we call human.

So, with that thought tucked in my back pocket today, I continue to empower, build up and utilize the giftings of those of you who are considered to be (like me!) in the "aging" group! We need you now more than ever, especially as the mass exodus of seniors stay home from church on Sunday mornings. I've been told they feel they aren't needed anymore or aren't relatable to the new generation. Heaven, I believe, has a whole different and widening concept on that belief system. It's sad that we earthlings think we know better.....than God.

(The picture above is my Aunt Sara, my grandmother Hilda, my great-grandmother Elizabeth, and my eleven year old mother, Naomi. This was not only family, it was community.)