Friends Love at ALL Times

I love my friends.  I am blessed beyond measure to have them in my life.  Some have hung around since elementary and high school days.  Others since our young married days in our church, and still others through our community where we serve.  It's an eclectic bunch, no two alike, and I love it that way.

We have spread out, over time, and not just in our body size!  We are in different cities, and it takes a little longer for us to get together.  But we do it.  We meet for coffee, head to the beach or the country or the lake, travel abroad, take road trips, serve together in various ways, and, in whatever setting, TALK.  A lot.

The talk has changed.  In the earlier years, we were pretty arrogant, I am sorry to say.   Lots of bragging and competition and too much time spent on dressing our kids and over-scheduling them. Worrying about their social lives more than their emotional and spiritual well-being.  A hidden agenda simmering just below the surface where transparency dared not rear its head.

Now we tell all.  Why?  Because we have each, through our various journeys, seen the wisdom and freedom of transparency.   It is a true gift of friendship.  That give and take of talking and weeping and grieving and sitting in silence.  Of just being there for hours on end and seeing more raw grief than one would ever think one could stand, only to go back for more and more and more because that is what friends do.  And talking and offering the softest voice of love and hope. . . Then seeing the glimmers of a new day and life and laughter and silliness and feeling 25 again in these bodies that aren't.  Sharing stories and secrets and loving where we are in life, knowing that we've still got lots of livin' left to do.

Chester Draw

My mom called yesterday.  We talk almost daily.  Sometimes about specific things, sometimes about nothing.  I like the rhythm of those calls.  I could tell by her voice this was a 'something' call.

"I'm looking on the website at stuff for sale!" oh no......this always means she has found something for ME.  She is over with her shopping.  My parents have declared they don't need anything else.  But Mom is always shopping for us. Her kids and grand kids.   I waited.  With baited breath.  "What did you find?"

"Just see if you can figure out what this is!" she exclaimed.  And she began to spell something.  It was so foreign I couldn't even picture it in my mind.  "Spell it again," I said.  So she did.  More slowly.   "C-H-E-S-T-E-R-D-R-A-W".  

By then she was laughing.  I was completely bewildered, and honestly a little hostile.  (We are highly competitive Scrabble players).  So I said, just a little huffy, "I don't know what that is."

"Someone is trying to sell a CHEST OF DRAWERS and they don't have a clue how to spell it!" Mom blurted out through her laughter.  We laughed and verbally skewered the poor soul who was so ignorant.  

Growing up, we always had a chest of drawers. I suppose, depending on where you live, it could also be called a dresser or bureau.  I can remember, as a young girl, thinking it was a "Chester drawers", not quite understanding who Chester was.  The first time I ever said that out loud I was promptly corrected, along with an explanation that the piece of furniture was a chest that held drawers for my clothing.  I never made that mistake again!

So, to all the Chesters out there:  sorry, but no.  You don't have any furniture as a namesake.  To the rest of you, go in there and take a look.  It's a chest of drawers.

Serving Silly Customers

I was waiting patiently in a really long line waiting to pay for my things.  My thoughts were pleasant and I was in no hurry.   Looking at the CD display at the cash stand I wondered why that pleasant Christian music that always plays in the background was silent. I was missing that music, actually......

At that moment, I watched a manager announce for someone to help at the front.  As her eyes scanned the ever-growing lines, they rested on me.  I began to feel as if I were about to win a prize when she came to ME, and took MY basket to an open register.  I felt silly and giddy at the same time, with what I am sure was a goofy smile on my face.

The cashier, on the other hand, had no smile.  In fact, she was quite unhappy she was there at all.  And she made sure her manager and I both knew.  That attitude continued as she checked me out.  I was shocked.  Why?  Because without me, THE CUSTOMER, she would not have her job.

As a customer, client, or patient, it is my responsibility to be civil.  As the person paid to provide customer service, he or she is responsible to do so.  I have the freedom to choose where to purchase and receive my goods and services.  Those in the industry need to rise to the occasion and acknowledge the two go hand-in-hand.

I wonder what would happen if, for one day, we made a concerted effort to only do business with merchants where customer service was top-notch?  Where cashiers smiled and acted happy to be there?  Where sales associates actually helped you instead of talked to one another about their after-hours plans?  What would happen if, FOR ONE DAY, we chose to be clients or patients where we were treated with dignity and respect?

I plan to do that.  Every day.  And I promise I will be smiling.

Mammaw

"Honey, when you're through, just put the extries in the ice box." And with that, I stared at the cheese I had been slicing and eating til I was full, figured it was 'extrie' and popped it right back in the fridge. I mean ice box. Didn't everybody do that at their Mammaw's house?