Uncle Spann

Saturday morning the caller ID lit up with the VA’s number. The doctor on the other end was looking for Uncle Spann’s brother Charlie. Mama gave them the correct number and asked if Uncle Spann died. Of course, HIPAA prevented her from answering, but we knew. It was over.

For 89 years Uncle Spann beat the odds and lived a vibrant life. By his own account, his mama laid out his funeral clothes twice before he turned 18. Both times, he surprised them. There were no surprises this time.  

A few weeks ago he was driving to visit mama as often as she would let him. He would come to the house and the crack of dawn, drink our “good coffee” and then take mama to lunch. Mama‘s alertness increased and her mental acuity sharpened. She called him her “life-long friend” and he referred to her as his sweetie. They made friends at the Waffle House and spent hours holding hands on the couch. Uncle Spann told her how much he loved her and she flourished with the attention. Just as I began to enjoy having Uncle Span around he cut his leg and spiraled downward. Less than a month after the injury, he died.

Uncle Spann was my dad’s best friend and has always been a part of my life. However, in the past few months, he grew on me. He rarely remembered my name and simply called me “shoog.” He told and retold the same two or three stories and always worked back to the time that the rattlesnake bit him.

In the last days of Uncle Spann’s hospital stay, he struggled against IVs and catheters. I rubbed his hand and commented, “I know this is uncomfortable, but it’s nowhere near as bad as a rattle snake bite.” He did not respond and I knew that his journey was coming to an end. I grieved the situation. Here he was, restrained in a hospital bed, alone and dying. I sat on the foot of the bed and patted his knee. When mama went to the restroom, I leaned in close and told him that it was ok to let go. I assured him that he was loved and that we knew he loved us. I told him that we were okay, I would take care of mama and that he could go anytime that he was ready. When we returned the next evening, Uncle Spann was much less restless. Maybe his medication was adjusted, maybe he did not have the energy to fight, or maybe he believed me.

The funeral was atrocious. The minister spent one minute talking about Uncle Spann and twelve minutes talking about being saved and not being upset. I left angry about such a bastardization of the gospel. The handful of folks at the funeral were not church folks and such tirades will not draw them in. When Lazarus died, Jesus showed up, cried, grieved with friends, shared a meal, and shared a little hope. Perhaps we would do well to follow this example.  

Note: I do know that Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, but I still think the model is valid.

Travel, Illness, and Work

I feel somewhat guilty about neglecting my blog. However, until I return to writing, I hope you will enjoy this short video of my recent trip to Nicaragua.

Put me in Coach. I'm ready to play.

I have been in Nicaragua for a week or so and that journey can be better understood by viewing the team blog at www.stjohngoestonicaragua.blogspot.com

Three hours after arriving home, the nausea began. I suspect that the stomach ailment generated from being in close proximity to a sick team mate, however, I may never eat KFC again -- sorry Con. Sanders.

It is five days later and I have missed one, if not the, most significant national events in my lifetime. We had an election party and I slept through most of it -- me, the political junkie and card carrying democrat. I have been waiting for this week for 22 months. I supported Hillary. I adjusted. Long before November, I knew where my ballot would be marked. That morning, I stumbled into the little church where I vote and waited 5 or 6 minutes before stepping up to the ballot screen. I sorted through 18 pages of questions and tried hard to remember exactly what the referendum babble was saying. I know all of this, because a friend drove me to poll and returned me to bed. Later she repeated my description of the line and process. As for me, most of this week has been a blur. Today, I begin to catch up on the news. Today, I begin to soak in the events of this past week. Today, I role my eyes at ignorance and smile at those who have a little more spring in their step.

Today, I also begin a new pilgrimage. Every once in a while, I experience the movement of god in or around me. Every once in a while, I am compelled to respond to this movement. Today, I begin to wake up to need for contemplation and prayer. Often I jump without regard. However, today, I am called to listen. Tomorrow, will be the time to jump.