Two nights ago, I am doing my last check on FB before going to sleep, and there is her beautiful face. She is young in the picture, possibly newlywed or in college. Accompanying the picture is her obituary. As pleased as I am for her release from an ailing body and devastated mind, my heart is broken.
Phyllis and Charles Trevathan are possibly the best people to have happened to Mr. L's and my marriage. We were just two of the young people they loved and mentored. We only lived in the same town and attended the same church with them for three years, but those were very important years. I loved them, and they dearly loved my family and me. They devotedly loved all who came into their paths, and they had the ability to make everyone feel as though they were the "favorite." I have beautiful memories of time spent in their presence.
I am unable to attend either of her memorial services. I will be in Minnesota. She would understand. There is nothing I would love more, however, than to hug her daughters, and spend time with them reminiscing. They will be surrounded by those who loved their mother and those who love them. So, this morning, I am indulging myself with a lone journey down a path of sweet memories.
We met them at Bardstown Road church of Christ. We were newlyweds, and had only known each other a year. Mr. L was in law school, we lived in a tiny apartment, and were in a town where we knew absolutely no one. So, we looked for a church, and we found forever friends. My first memory of them was the telling of tales about a recent family trip to Disney World. I am fairly certain that the three beautiful dark haired little girls enjoyed the trip, but nobody enjoyed anything as much as Charles Trevathan. Thus, began the blossoming of my love for this family.
Two very important lessons stick in my mind that I learned at their feet. Charles once said that death was the final great adventure. He did not fear it. He actually looked forward to the thrill of it. He did for sure want to die "with his boots on." He and God orchestrated it perfectly, for he died in his office after having taught class at ACU. It was a great loss to us here, but I think he must have been one of God's most satisfying creations, for he had an enthusiasm and appreciation for all life had to offer. He was a rabble rouser, too, but always in an effort to be better than himself and to make those around him better than themselves.
Phyllis is the person who taught me that if you only had money to buy ham and beans, you eat the beans and give the ham to someone in need. I sincerely doubt that during her healthy years not one week went by that she did not feed someone in addition to her family. I know for about three years there, she fed two poor newlyweds at least once a week. Sunday afternoon dinner was a tradition. She made the most delicious meals in a tiny kitchen, feeding lots of folks. She had a dishwasher in that kitchen which did not work, so she kept her plastic wrap and aluminum foil in it. She did not complain, she just laughed about it.
These people had the practice of hospitality perfected. After Mr. L and I moved from Louisville, we would go back to spend weekends with Charles and Phyllis. They booted girls from their room so we would have a place to stay. She cooked our favorite meals. They took us to Lakeside (?) to swim, Phyllis packing a picnic lunch of homemade fried chicken and all the fixings-not your typical tuna sandwich and chips. I was pregnant on one of those trips to the pool. I horrified and terrified Charles and Phyllis by going down the giant slide there. When I realized how truly concerned she was, I did not go down again. One time when Marshall was little, we went to the zoo. Charles showed him all the animals, and carried him on his shoulders all day. They had the knack for making people feel as though they thought them perfect. One never felt inadequate when with Charles and Phyllis. That is a true spiritual gift.
Snow was a constant one winter we lived in Louisville. We went sledding at a golf course. Phyllis stayed home making homemade chili to warm us up upon our return. Toward the end of this great fun day, Charles, Mr. L and I decided to go down one last time. We stacked ourselves on that little wooden sled; Charles on the bottom, Mr. L in the middle, and me on top. We flew down that hill, when we hit a bump, got a bit of air, and landed hard the sled broke. Charles, who was never one to complain, said very little about the pain caused by his cracked sternum.
Charles was all movement and fidgeting energy. He could be sound asleep in his chair, and immediately upon waking he was on his feet ready to dash out for a late night run to White Castle. Phyllis had a more serene demeanor. They complemented each other well.
I have many precious memories of these people. There is much that has become part of my DNA, absorbed by simply being with them and witnessing them doing life. I will hold those moments close in my heart. I will live with gratitude that part of my earthly journey was spent traveling with them. I will look forward to being greeted by them when I move on to the next leg of this eternal voyage. I am certain that Charles will greet me with great enthusiasm over all there is to see and do, and Phyllis will present me with a plate of chocolate chip cookies.
So, my heart is full, and, yes, a little bit broken today. I regret that I cannot hug Phyllis's girls, and laugh and cry with them. I pray for them great memories of their daddy who left them ten years ago, and now their mama who departed this realm earlier this week. I do not know what happens after we leave this place, but I love imagining them back together. Perhaps, Charles is showing Phyllis all the best restaurants in heaven.
On this day I wish you full hearts capable of being broken at the loss of those with whom you have been privileged to journey and share love, and I wish you
Blessings
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