Last week in this column I reminisced how birthdays in my boyhood home were basically a non-event.
Ironically, that same week, Marilyn and I were invited to a friend’s surprise birthday party where I thoroughly enjoyed seeing old friends and meeting new people.
I was both humbled and encouraged to hear many of them express how much they enjoyed this weekly column. Perhaps some overstated their enthusiasm for the sake of kindness; but none the less, I was flattered to meet so many faithful readers.
“But enough about me”… (That reminds me of a movie quote in which a young man, after going on and on about himself to his date; paused and said, “Well, that’s enough about me…why don’t you tell me what you like about me.”)
Anyway, after several head swelling conversations, a distinguished lady approached me and asked, “Is your name Grubb?” I straightened my shoulders, prepared to accept yet another pat on the back, when she said, “Was Marvin the Milk Man, your father?” “Why…yes!” her sudden change in subject caused me to pause. “Well, young man” she said as she leaned in close, “I want to tell you what a wonderful person your father was.”
In that tiny eclipse of time from “Is your name Grubb?” to “I want to tell you what a wonderful person your father was!” I experienced what I can only describe as emotional whiplash. I felt woozy. Looking back, it may have been caused by the loud sucking sound as my swollen head deflated and my heart swelled in fond remembrance of my father.
Suddenly and quite unexpectedly, her comment ignited emotions I hadn’t struggled with since my father’s sudden passing over 30 years ago.
She went on to regale Marvin; reinforcing what I already knew, as she described his unforced selflessness and life-giving humor. I was glad she was a foot shorter than me; making it less likely she’d notice my quivering lower lip. My jaw began to ache from its forced smile while my mind, like a British navel captain, barked orders to maintain a stiff upper lip.
But then, just as quickly as this micro-burst of grief had come over me; it lifted and I was able to once again focus on her as she effused her personal memories of Marvin the Milk Man.
It really was wonderful to hear again, how Marvin had been more than just a milk man to his customers. I’ve grown accustomed to hearing his former customers speak of him as a member of their family. She threw her petite head back and laughed out loud as she recalled how Marvin would set aside his milk carrier to adjust the chain on one of the kids’ bicycles, or join them in a footrace to the milk truck.
“Yep,” I nodded, “that was my dad alright.”
As a pastor, I’ve often listened to similar stories from people caught off guard by flashes of grief while shopping for groceries or reading a book. Often times an insignificant conversation or the mere outline of a stranger serve as involuntary triggers, releasing emotions believed to have long since subsided. I assume the passing of time reduces the frequency and intensity of these incidences but, given the right trigger we quickly discover they remain hidden just below the surface like land mines in an abandoned battle field.
I’m hopeful, by sharing this very personal story, you will be motivated to express appreciation to those you care about while you still have living opportunities. Just do it.
Even the Apostle Paul, that rugged individualist who although threatened with his life, boldly challenged kings and commoners to embrace his Savior, revealed his softer side as he coaxed his friends in Corinth to:
“Be cheerful. Keep things (your relationships) in good repair. Keep your spirits up. Think in harmony. Be agreeable. Do all that, and the God of love and peace will be with you for sure. Greet one another with a holy embrace. (2 Corinthians 13:11-12)
Aw…go on! Tell that person how special they truly are!
Read Ron’s column, Simple Faith, each Saturday on the Faith Page (page 3) of the Lancaster Eagle Gazette, or visit www.lancastereaglegazette.com