Aunt Easter

Aunt Easter, in the end, did not make it all the way to Easter this year. Named Easter Lily, because she was born on Easter Sunday, she was in many ways as unique as her name, and this year, more than ever, she indicated the wish to celebrate her birthday...why? Because she was born on Easter Sunday the last time it fell on March 23, and that was in 1913. From the time she realized that her birthday would finally fall on Easter Sunday, she seemed to set her mind to living until she was 95. Yesterday, at around noon, she quietly slipped away, 2 and 1/2 days short of her last earthly goal.

We were not going to be able to go, but extended family from all parts of the US had been making plans for a celebration this weekend. In recent weeks, however, it became evident that, even if Aunt Easter lived to see her 95th birthday, she would be confined to some sort of medical institution, as she had gone from hospital to therapy center to hospital to nursing home and finally a hospice. I'm not sure I have correctly listed the exact order or the description of the facilities, but you get the idea. Early in the week, my cousin Frances, whom Aunt Easter lived with, announced the family reunion was canceled. The end was obviously near, and Aunt Easter's two children who live in other parts of the country came earlier than originally planned, in order to be there. My mother and uncle, the last two survivors of that generation, decided not to go down to Houston early in the week, as Mom said she preferred to remember her sister as she had last seen her, the lively, alert Aunt Easter we always remember her as being. The funeral will be "back home" in Arkansas, close to where Mom has gone to visit my uncle, and where they will wait for the funeral, to be held sometime early next week, most likely.

Aunt Easter and the Squid

Aunt Easter came to Madeira twice with Mom, in 1981 or 82 (before Dad died) and in the late 80s after he died, when the two sisters came on their own. While Aunt Easter had traveled abroad previously, it was the first time for my parents (except Dad during WWII, which was not quite the same sort of tourism).

On one occasion during their first visit, we had lunch in one of the restaurants in Funchal, and I decided to order a plate of the day, which was squid. Dad was very much a meat-and-gravy-with-mashed-potatoes man, so he ordered accordingly. When my plate was brought to the table, he quipped, "It looks like garden hose." I offered to let him try a bite, which he did, whereupon he commented, "It even tastes like garden hose."

Mom tasted a bite of the squid, too, but Aunt Easter declined; she said she had already tasted it on a previous trip to Europe.

A photo that gives you an idea of what the wicker sledge ride is all about.

A day or so later, Mom and Aunt Easter decided they wanted to ride down the mountain in the wicker sledges, which were a sort of public transport a 100 years ago...at least downhill. The sledge is wide enough for two adults and two "drivers" run along behind, alternately greasing the runners with an tallow-soaked cloth, or braking by holding the sledge back with ropes attached to each front corner, which also is the main steering mechanism. The run is about a mile or so down the steep street from a church on the side of the mountain to the city of Funchal. The degree of thrill of the actual experience depends on the clients and the particular drivers on any one run, and reactions vary widely.

Once we were all together again at the bottom, at the end of the run, each one was sharing his/her impressions of the ride. It was Aunt Easter's comment that entered into our family's phrasebook from that day on.

"What about you, Aunt Easter? How was it?"

"Well, I've eaten that squid."

Because of Aunt Easter, squid became synonymous in our family with what many people commonly express as "been there, done that," and we've tasted many varieties of squid since then.

Of time and eternity

I have a fascination for clocks, especially the mechanical, wind-up kind with a pendulum. We bought a cuckoo clock when we were in Austria in 1991, but it needs cleaning and the poor little bird has been silent for a year or more. While I could never afford a real grandfather's clock, I was able to get a wall clock for my consular office. There's something about the ticking of the mechanism that appeals to me, and it chimes on the half hour and hour. It can be a bit of a nuisance, though, if I happen to be on the phone at the stroke of noon, when 12 "gongs" can seem like 11 too many.

The face of the clock says it has a 30- or 31-day movement. My experience is that I'd better wind it every 28 or 29 days, and if I forget, time stops...as far as that clock is concerned. But if I listen carefully, if the clock is using the very last of the energy wound into the spring, it sounds different, and at the very end it gets slower. . .
a n d . . . . s -l - o - w - e - r . . . . a - n - d . . .
q - - u - - i - - e - - t - - e - - r . . . .u - - - n - - - t - - -i - - - l . . . .i - - - t . . . .
stops.

As we read my cousin's daily reports on Aunt Easter's conditions, I saw in my mind a clock that was running down to a slow, peaceful stop. And that's exactly how Frances described her mother's last hours: "Her breathing became slower and slower until mid-day. She quietly died."

Like my clock that runs down just short of the 31 days advertised, Aunt Easter's earthly life ran down just short of her earthly goal. Okay, she missed the party that was being planned, but in exchange, what a party she went to instead! And that party is no week-end affair, but one that just goes on and on and on. No winding needed.

I can imagine her saying as she entered the heavenly gates and looked back at her earthly existence, "Well, I've eaten that squid."

Odds and Ends (Updated)

This is a record for me. Three postings in one night. For one thing, I'm catching up on some back news, and secondly, I foresee busy days ahead as the translation work has started coming back in force. The next month will be pretty busy at the consulate, too. I help people fill out their tax forms (so when am I going to do mine?) and we're getting new computer hardware and software in a month. I have to make sure we have everything ready, so that when the folks come from Washington and Lisbon to set up the systems, they can make the most of the short time they'll be here. Just as well they're coming soon: my hard drive at the office crashed this week. The week I was away must have been very difficult for it, and it couldn't stand the strain of the reunion. Whatever the cause, I couldn't get it to run after I got back this week. I had heard about such things happening to people's hard drives. Now I can truthfully say I actually believe such things do happen. (Moral of the story: make backups.)

News items...in reverse chronological order:



1) A baptismal service at the Baptist Church of Amadora, in the Lisbon area. I preached at the church's 40th anniversary, and there were two people baptized. I showed this picture to some of the members here, who saw all the marble and commented, "The baptistery even looks like a sepulcher."


2) A birthday...Dawn was able to come to church for the first time in a couple of months. She has a congenital condition called "hypermobility", or in plain English, her joints don't stay together, so she can't stand up and walk (her knees come apart) or use crutches (her shoulders come apart). She's in constant pain from that, and on top of it all, she's had shingles twice since Christmas. Her husband, Roy, takes the services in English when I'm away. They moved here from England about 18 months ago and are a real blessing in the church. Dawn's joy in spite of pain and difficulty is a real blessing and witness to all of us. In the background of this picture, you can see another English lady, Yvonne, who really needs our prayers. Her husband died a year ago, and she is not well. She doesn't speak Portuguese, but she has no family or friends in England she can stay with. She has a son, but she hasn't heard from or seen him in 20 years or so; her daughter refuses to have Yvonne with her. It is a very sad case.

Added: I found this photo taken of Roy and Dawn the first Sunday I met them in January 2007. The couple on the left were visiting from Maryland, USA.



3) A visiting pastor...Bill Kimbery filled in for me 9 years ago when we were away for 6 weeks or so. He was pastoring in Birmingham, England, at the time. Jackie and Jaime had met Bill and his wife in Africa years ago when the Kimberys were missionaries there, and although we didn't get to meet them 9 years ago, everyone in the church spoke about what a blessing they were during the time we were in the US. He retired last year and his wife, Jean, passed away shortly thereafter. He had the opportunity to come spend a couple of weeks here, and now we know why everyone was blessed by his ministry back then; we were blessed by his being here this time. What a privilege to meet these faithful servants of the Lord! May we, in turn, be a blessing to those we encounter. Update: The others in the photo are Roberto and his children, Nataniel and Raquel. Pastor Bill stayed with Roberto and Militina, who went to the UK before Nataniel was born and stayed with the Kimberys.

Trivia

I guess it qualifies as trivia...unless you live in Portugal and own a car and put gasoline in it. Since I had reported earlier on the price of gasoline (in May 2006, it was $6.85 a gallon --- in July 2007 = $7.47 --- November 2007 = $8.09), I noticed the price was €1.508 per litre today, a new high. And with the dollar at a new low, I wondered if we had reached the $9/gal. plateau, yet. The results are in and, alas!, we have fallen short of the mark. Gasoline is only $8.88 a gallon. There is some consolation, however: "8" is such a nice, round, smooth number, with no jagged edges. And to have three of them! But just because a pill is smooth and round, doesn't mean it isn't bitter.

Grandparents again...and again...and again

After being away from the blog (and home) for such a long time, there is a lot I could say, but this subject deserves a posting of its own. It's not like we're becoming grandparents; we've been through that before, but we've been holding at 7 grandkids for a number of years. (Joel, the youngest, will be 8 in August.) Well, the clock has started ticking again...it's 7 and counting.

Rachel broke the news to us back in December that she's expecting no. 4, due sometime in July. Just found out in the past few days that it's a girl, which will even out Rachel and Chris's family at 2 boys vs. 2 girls. (Not too much emphasis on the "vs.", though; the kids get along fine.)

And, not to be outdone, Joy and Mark broke the news to us a few weeks later that they're expecting their first! The ETA on this little one is September 16. It's still a little early in the season to know whether to buy all blue or all pink furniture for the new bedroom. That detail of information won't be available for another month, I suppose.

Will we be going to the States to join the celebrations? The Lord willing, of course! But truth be told, we had been planning to go back in September/October anyway. It will have been almost two years since we were in the States. Abbie's father will be 90 on September 13. (How convenient for Joy and Mark to have their baby the same week, and only an hour or so away from Abbie's parents!) Also, it will be the 40th reunion of my university graduation class in early October. We've never attended any of the class reunions (high school or university), so this was going to be a special year in any event. More grandkids! Even more special!

The Portuguese have a saying, "Não há dois sem três." (Literally, "There aren't two without three".) It's a comment usually made when there have been two misfortunes, like accidents (plane crashes, for example), or deaths in the family. I'm having a hard time remembering whether the saying is ever used in the positive sense; there's an overriding sense of "doom and gloom" to it in my mind.

But can't there be a third blessing after two others? Yes! We just got back from Lisbon, where we met our newest "grandson". He's a little darker than our other grandkids, but then so are his parents, Rosa and Blanchard. We went to their wedding three years ago in Lisbon; I preached at the ceremony, and out of the almost 200 people at the reception, there were only three of us there who were not African. There is a brief account and a couple of pictures in this posting from that time.

We had not expected to see Blanchard on this trip, since our time was short, but to our surprise, the men's choir "Benção" ("blessing") from the 3rd Baptist Church of Lisbon sang on Saturday, the last night of the missions conference we attended. Blanchard is the assistant director of the choir, which is made up of Angolans, who sing in Portuguese, English, French and Kikongo. When the concert was over, he came up to us, as surprised as we were. He insisted on finding a way to have us come to his house on Sunday.

Saturday night at the conference: Blanchard directing the choir, and a surprise reunion afterwards.

We hadn't seen them since the wedding and had only seen Junior (which is what they call him) in pictures. Sunday night Blanchard picked us up from the church where I spoke and took us to his house, where we were received like royalty. Rosa told us that when Blanchard got home at midnight the night before, he told her, "Guess who I ran into? My father!" She thought he was crazy. "What father?!"

"My father from Madeira!" They had the special china on the table for us, which they got for their wedding, but had never used until Sunday night.



Junior (14 months) and a cousin.

We got to practice our grandparenting skills, and Junior was encouraged to go to Vovô and Vovó (Grandpa and Grandma). He was pretty fussy after being in church all day, from 9 a.m. to 7 p.m., and by 10:30 he was worn out, but couldn't be still. I picked him up, and once he put his head on my shoulder, he never moved a muscle. He was fast asleep in two minutes. It was good practice for us. We're looking forward to doing more of it this fall.

Brief Appearance

Just to thank all those who faithfully drop by. I spent the greater part of February pushing forward with the goal in mind of completing the translation of a book for the city of Funchal, which is celebrating 500 years this year, as I mentioned in my last posting. The book took longer than I figured, because I figured there were 40,000 words of text. I figured wrong. Very wrong...it was actually nearer 60,000. Fortunately February had an extra day this year; I needed it. That job is done, and maybe I will settle back into a more normal pace. And then, maybe not.

Abbie and I will be going to Lisbon on Monday, returning on the following Monday, the 17th. The first couple of days will be in meetings at the embassy, the next couple we'll be around the Baptist Seminary in Lisbon, and Friday and Saturday at a missions conference in the Lisbon area. The pace may not be slower, but the scenery will be different.