The Family Meeting
Published on 15:12, 08/25,2008
Well, our "come to Jesus" meeting went better yesterday than I had anticipated ... even though the meeting had been bathed in prayer for weeks. I still was skeptical. OK, maybe "worried" is a better word.
My sisters, their hubbies, my brother, Ed, and I all went to church with Daddy. I thought he'd be tickled pink. Let's just say he was tickled at the arrival of the "lost" (since someone objects to the word prodigal, although it is used in the NASB and ESV) son. This is a very small, very country church. Before the worship service began, the chairman of deacons asked if I'd inroduce everyone, and I said sure. Only when the time came, he asked Daddy. No problem.
It went something like this: "This is my son, Bob. Bob, stand up. He's been in the Navy for 15 years, and you prayed for him when he was in Baghdad, blah, blah, blah. And you know the girls: Carolyn, Nancy, and Janis." There goes another slap in the face. Yeh, they know me well since I've played the piano for them off and on for years ... filling in for their snowbird pianist. Nancy had been there once; Janis had never been.
Thus was the intro.
After church we all went to eat Chinese at the WORST Chinese restaurant ever. Stay far, far away from Blue Sky. The plan was to go back to our house afterward and we (the 4 kids) were going to approach Daddy and Sandra with our questions. So pretty soon, Janis, Nancy, and I are at the house. No Daddy, Sandra, and Bob. Tried to call Bob. Cell phone turned off from church.
Then it hit me.
They were at the preacher's house. He was out recuperating from surgery and had made it very clear he wanted a picture of Daddy and Bob together (see the previous post). I called. Yep. That's where they were. I was hotter than a firecracker on the 4th of July. First, because he didn't tell us they were going there and we were concerned. Second, it would have been nice to have been included.
Nope, just the favorite "lost" son.
Finally they got back to the house with "I thought you knew." Yeh, well, how was I supposed to know unless you told me? Or any of the girls?
I'd already had my cry and was recomposed. We chit-chatted about "stuff," and it naturally progressed to Daddy's hospitalization. That led very naturally into what we wanted to discuss. While we didn't get ALL the answers, we did get a few. At least we know their wishes regarding cremation and a service. Allegedly there's a will, although Daddy says it is old and outdated. He did ask me to help him get it updated. Ah-ha ... a BREAKTHROUGH! They did not want to talk about long-term care. In fact, Sandra got rather nasty about it and about my question regarding the house. They live in a duplex ... they own one side and another couple own the other. It's a GRAND MESS. Anyway, in the event of their deaths, a realtor is supposed to rent out their side, collect the money, put it in an account, pay bills, etc. But have they lined up a realtor? That would be NO. We talked about putting someone else on their banking accounts, getting a power of attorney, and all that stuff. Like I said, we didn't get it all resolved, but we at least made some progress.
I know this is long, BUT ... changing gears ... Bob and I had an interesting conversation enroute to the airport this morning. About "What do you want to be when you grow up?" How when we were in high school (early 70s for me and mid-80s for him), guidance counselors didn't talk to students about careers. Guidance couselors at my school were there for kids who got in trouble and were sent to the office. We didn't have dozens of electives like kids do now. Electives for girls included (only) home ec, art, music, shorthand (and a few other general business courses). No computer classes (there were no computers), no culinary classes, no automotive, no cosmetology, no medical, no media, film, etc. Just your basics.
Bob said, "No one ever sat down and talked to me about what I could be when I grew up." Me neither. We were middle class. Girls were expected either to become wives or school teachers. I fought tooth and nail to be able to go to college (my mom was TOTALLY against it) and studied education. Let someone talk me into studying elementary ed (definitely NOT my calling) when what I thought I might want to do was teach history. And where did I end up? In a publishing company. NEVER, EVER wanted to do that.
So we talked about if we had it to do all over again. Boy, we're a pair. He's 40; I'm 54 and neither of us know which route we'd take if we could go back 20 and 35 years. The interesting thing is I mentioned I'd consider going to culinary school. I think I'd enjoy working in a test kitchen. Bob said the same thing! He's been thinking about what to do after his Navy career is over in 4 years. CIA (gov't) or CIA (culinary institute). Isn't that funny?
Actually, what I'd REALLY like to have done was to marry someone wealthy or inherited a TON of money so I didn't have to work. I could have done all of the volunteer work and mission trips and playing with my Jay and traveling my heart desired.
Sweet dreams, huh?
