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Posts Tagged ‘friendship’


My mother now lives in the downstairs memory care section of the home where my Nana spent the last three years of her life. When Nana was upstairs in the assisted living residential area, one of my former CBS, Community Bible Study, teacher colleagues moved not far down the hall. Kyoko acknowledged me when I’d hug her and said hello then, but she didn’t chat much if I stopped by. She always had a warm smile and responded politely and respectfully. She still had a sweet-nature and was soft-spoken. I think sometimes she remembered me, and sometimes she simply didn’t.

After Nana went home to heaven, I only revisited the home a couple of times. I intended to go back and check on Kyoko, but the demands of daily life and the out-of-town commute soon ebbed away at my best intentions.

When my mom went to live there a year ago, Kyoko had transferred downstairs and was my mother’s next-door neighbor for the first few months before mom got her own permanent room. Most of the memory care residents spend their time in the large community room connected to the dining area.

My mom doesn’t know me or any of my sisters anymore. Shannon, my second youngest sister and mom’s former caregiver, visits mom daily and feeds her one meal, usually dinner on the weekdays on her way home from work, and lunch on the weekends. Kyoko is always there too. Most of my six sisters have come to know her and her gentle ways. She likes to be close to my mother, and she’ll point you to the chair next to mom and bow until you take it.

Many days when I make the commute to visit my mom is sound asleep when I arrive and she’ll doze for hours. It is such a disappointment for me not to catch her awake and alert. She still shows a flicker of a second of recognition, a smile flashes across her sweet face and then she’ll grab for my hand. But when slumbering, mom sleeps deeply. Kyoko is usually sitting on the nearby sofa and she’ll get up, walk over to me and it almost seems like she wants to speak specifically, as a comforting gesture like she can sense the depth of my heartache.

Back when we served together at CBS, we were both core leaders of groups with about fifteen women. One year I was also the secretary and another year I was the Prayer Chairman so our time was interwoven in a variety of additional ways. Kyoko T. was dearly loved by her ladies. She knew God’s word intimately and she lived the grace and beauty of the Lord in every aspect of her petite being. We used to sing together in the leadership meeting circle these beautiful songs of praise and worship and sisterhood. Sometimes we sat next to each other and raised our quiet voices in harmony with fellow CBS sisters gifted with lovely songbird perfectly pitched, and choir worthy cadence.

We also prayed together. That was my closest connection with this humble woman. We shared prayer requests and praises both within the leadership circle and outside of it. She knew all of my sisters names and my mother’s name, Mary. How faithful Kyoko was to remember to ask me about my family, my children, and my husband after a season of intercession.

She shared about her home and the longings in her soul. Those were precious days of special friendship within a circle of women that you often only experience once in a lifetime.

I eventually moved out-of-town and sent Christmas cards which eventually dwindled down over the next decade.

Kyoko’s tender heart remains despite the loss of the memories of herself, her childhood, her family, her country, me and all her other CBS sisters. A loving Father placed her in her current home where she unknowingly continues to be a blessing to my mother and all those around her. I watch the gentlemen and ladies respond to her meek compliance and kindnesses. Her outer image is much altered, but her inner-Christ light shines with a brilliance like a star illuminating a night sky.

I often sing to my mom if she is awake or to Kyoko if my mom is sleeping. Kyoko and I used to hold hands when we sang The Servant Song together in our CBS days. The lyrics hold a much deeper meaning to me now than almost twenty years ago. Kyoko remains a servant-hearted handmaiden of the Lord right where she is. There is hope where there is love.

 

 

 

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Sweden Send-Off for John, Our Fellow Writer

Sigh…saying good-bye isn’t an easy thing to do. It is even more difficult when you will soon be oceans apart and more than one language is involved.

In a few days my friend and fellow writer, John Clewett, is moving back to Sweden. This time he probably won’t be coming home to America for a long. long time.

We writers are strange people by our own declaration. So when you connect on many levels: friend, trusted critique groupie, Lake Tahoe respite cabin dweller, and great debater of religion, politics, and raw steaks, the loss of close geographical neighboring is intense.

A great continental divide will now physically separate us. We will have to rely on “Hangout” via the internet, via Google, via all electronics will work perfectly.

In this modern world of cell phones, computers, and video conference calling, what is lacking? Well, simply put, I prefer personal contact. Speaking face-to-face and seeing my friend’s reaction to a manuscript read, or dinner for four with our spouses at a nice restaurant sipping a glass of wine, and ~ talking, laughing, relaxing.

What a novel concept.

Interpersonal communication was once a college class I took involving trust games.  Now it is a fading lifestyle, a disappearing act at the end of a play that is shutting down before the run of a full season, due to a lack of interest. You can sit two people across from each other at a restaurant table and they don’t speak, they text on their cell phones, and check Facebook or Twitter. I’ve observed this increasing detachment with sadness over and over again.

John, you will be greatly missed. Your instinctive and in-depth critiques helps every member of our little group. Your research is impeccable and your integrity, remarkable. Your gift of friendship extends beyond the boundaries of the international date line.

Sweden~ though I do not know the language, I do know the heart because of you.

God’s blessings my friend. May He shelter you under the cover of His wings wherever you go. I’ll be “Hanging out” with you soon. You will be in my prayers and praises and not so far away as the miles add up, but close in the gift of a divine crossing of our paths.  Bloom where you’re being replanted and may you bear fruit one hundred fold.

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