Miss Eba (not a typo)

Our church family lost another of our great matriarchs this week. Miss Eba, as my children and I called her. We knew she was the celebrity in her family when the children all called her husband, John, "Brother Miss Eva."  Of course she was famous; she taught the two-year-old class at the nursery school for years. The children loved her, but their parents loved her more. There was no one with whom we wanted our children to be more than Miss Eva and Miss Sharon.

I learned a lot from Miss Eva. I learned a valuable lesson in grace from her when my child (name withheld to protect the guilty) was in her class. It seems my precious child went to school and informed the class that Daddy had learned a new word. Miss Eva was thrilled that we, good parents that we were, worked on increasing our child's vocabulary. So she asked what the new word was, expecting some legal term like writ of habeas corpus, or heretofore or plaintiff since the daddy in this family was a lawyer. Oh, if only. Instead, our child sweetly told Miss Eva the word was "son of a b#*+?."  Nice. When Miss Eva called to graciously remind us that little ears hear things, I racked my brain to figure out what in the world. Mr. L does not talk like that, and then, I remembered. He had told a joke in the car with the children in the back seat, and the new vocabulary word was the punchline. Miss Eva probably never said that word in her life, but she treated a new mom with grace and kindness, without judgment. I always felt like Mr. L was a favorite of hers after that.

One of the greatest lessons I learned from Miss Eva she shared on parent night. In regards to two-year-olds she said, "I expect nothing from them, so anything I get is a bonus."  I think she was sort of kidding, but I think that's a great motto in regard to just people in general.

Miss Eva loved The Pineapple Room at Cheekwood and The Puffy Muffin. She could always be found treating for lunch some woman who was struggling in some way. She took me to lunch a lot! Seems I was always struggling with something. My OC baby shower for my son was at Miss Eva's house.  She was an extraordinarily gracious hostess, and I remember many a meal and party in her home.

Miss Eva was a refined, classy lady who could be found wearing UT bloomers, festive sweaters with jewelry to match for every holiday or some perfectly put together ensemble. She did not lack for opinions nor the motivation to express them. She abhorred crassness of any sort. She was a worthy mentor and friend.

When Miss Eva moved to assisted living, there was an estate sale at her house. I bought a glass spooner that I think is Flint glass. I use it a lot. I also bought several of her vintage handkerchiefs. I will keep one of those close beside me Sunday during her memorial service.

I loved Miss Eva. I know she loved my family and me. She has been gone from church services for a long time. She, as I understand, had been mindfully absent from her surroundings for quite some time as well. Her legacy lives on in her children, her grandchildren and now her great grandchildren. Miss Eva, like many others, is intricately woven in the Otter Creek tapestry.

Time Travelers

If you were here, right this moment, you would say it is Friday, March 3 and that I am at home, cleaning a little, cooking a little, blogging a little, nursing the crud, listening to Pandora, painting birthday cards. You would be wrong. I am living in next Tuesday. I am in an operating room.  I am one of many residing there....in our hearts and minds. We are there for our lovely friend and sister. And, as we are there, we are also at the feet of Jesus entreating Him to carry our pleas to the Father.

This is Church. We travel together. We hold each other up. We stand in the gap. This world throws out a lot of hard stuff, really hard stuff.  I know those who would consider me weak, and, Lord knows I am, but I cannot imagine doing life without my Church. I have mentioned this friend in an earlier blog, "The Reluctant Celebrity."  Please, when you read this post, stop for just a moment and travel to Tuesday with me, to an operating room, and raise a prayer.

Much gratitude