"March/2012"
I had been estranged from my husband’s older sister Nancy for many years. In 1999, she had abandoned her mother to follow her daughter and two granddaughters who had moved to Reno, Nevada. My mother-in-law had emphysema, aneurisms, COPD and required 24-hour oxygen. She was able to get around her two-story condo only with the use of a wheelchair and a stair chairlift. Nancy, who had been living with her, left her virtually alone in her Laughlin, Nevada home.
When I first met Nancy in 1965, she was married and had a two-year-old daughter. Even though she was six years older, we always got along well. Nancy was pretty, loving and talented. She also possessed that great McBride sense of humor and could, as the saying goes, swear like a sailor. The following years became increasingly difficult for her. There was always the predominating family strife and drama. There were disappointments and failures; three marriages; the painful break-up of a long-time relationship and the end of a promising beauty salon business. Disillusioned and bitterly unhappy, she became a heavy smoker, an alcoholic and a chronic gambler. Her relationship with her only child, though sometimes contentious, remained central in her life. Our family in Tucson remained in contact, but that was about it. After her move to Reno in 1999, I rarely spoke to her.
In 2008 while driving to attend a family wedding in Canada, Tad and I visited Nancy and the family in Reno. It had been eight years and frankly, we weren’t looking forward to it. Plans were made to see Nancy the day we arrived and then meet with the rest of the family for breakfast the following morning. Arriving at the state assisted apartments where Nancy lived, we called her through the building’s intercom. She said she would come down to meet us. It was in the hallway that we first saw her... Riding towards us on a scooter, I almost didn’t recognize her she had changed so much. Her physical appearance now reflected her life; bitter; broken in spirit and body. In addition to degenerative spine and other ailments, Nancy suffered from emphysema, aneurisms, COPD and required 24-hour oxygen. The few hours we were there, she complained bitterly that no came to see her and no one cared. Her complaints were underscored by the fact that in the same apartment, she had fallen and had lain on the bathroom floor for three days. She was found only when an out-of-town friend couldn’t reach her by phone and had alerted the authorities. Looking back, I couldn’t help but see the irony in her situation and how it paralleled the way she had left her mother alone and in the same condition and circumstances.
Four weeks later and ten days after we had returned from our Canadian trip, my husband Tad passed away suddenly. It was at this time, after almost forty years of spiritual wandering that God gathered me back into His arms setting me on the journey of a life fully committed to Him.
God laid Nancy on my heart about a year later. My response was “Oh No-o-o! Not Nancy!!” However, He made it clear that I should forgive her and rebuild our relationship. So, I started calling periodically. We’d talk about different things, but when the complaints started, I would change the subject or find a way to end the conversation. As I grew in my faith, I would bring up spiritual things. Surprisingly, she seemed open to these conversations. Somewhere along the way, I had seen a video of some entertainers giving their testimony about how they had been saved. One of them was Kris Kristofferson. I remember thinking… there’s a lot of miles there. Well, if he could do it surely there was hope for Nancy!
It was some time after that Nancy was diagnosed with lung cancer. Surgery was followed by a difficult recovery and a grim prognosis. A sense of urgency concerning her salvation came with these events. Nancy was aware that every Friday at 9:00am I talked with my brother Steve and his wife Cindy in northwestern Canada. We would catch up on the latest and then the three of us would read “Our Daily Bread” devotionals together. I asked if she would like to choose a day and I would call her every week on that day. We could talk about things, read our devotions, and pray together. Without hesitation she said, “Sunday”. And so, for just about a year, almost without fail, I would call on Sundays and we would talk. I wish I could say it was pleasant, but it was difficult and required copious amounts of prayer before each call. Once after asking her if she had anything that she wanted to pray about, she said abruptly, “I WANT JOHN GONE!!” (John was her daughter’s long-time boyfriend that she had met shortly after moving to Reno.) Taken aback, I said “Uh…well, let’s pray for understanding, good choices and some peace”. As the months passed, gradually she became more involved in our devotional time. While Nancy didn’t pray out loud herself, she always joined me in praying “The Lord’s Prayer” - “Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen”. Matthew 6:9-13. “Bet you didn’t know I knew that one, did you?” she would say.
One Sunday afternoon she surprised me with the announcement that she, her granddaughter and four-year-old great-granddaughter were going to move into a subsidized apartment together. Wow… now that seemed like a good thing, so we prayed it might be possible. It was not long after this and on our Sunday devotions, she told me the lung cancer had returned and the doctor had given her 4-6 weeks to live. There was a period after hearing this sad news that I couldn’t get in touch with Nancy. There had always been problems with disconnected phones, etc., but now I began to worry. Finally, I was able to contact the assisted living manager for Nancy’s apartment. After being assured that Nancy was not lying alone on the bathroom floor, she told me that John had come by to pick up her things.
Eventually, when I was able to talk with Nancy, I came to find out the most amazing turn of events. Even now, I can hardly believe that ALL the family; Nancy, Nancy’s daughter, and John, both granddaughters and the great-granddaughter, had moved into this rambling ranch house south of Reno. They wanted to be together to care for Nancy when they needed each other the most. At our resumed Sunday devotions, Nancy told me how the family was taking such wonderful care of her. Of course, there were a few bumps, but can you imagine my surprise when she told me that John, as in ‘I WANT JOHN GONE!’ was taking such good care of her and even dumped her “honey pot”?
I bought tickets to Reno while there was still time, planning to spend three days that included a Friday 9:00 a.m. devotional time with my brother Steve. (It should be noted that Nancy and my brother had known each other in our hometown back in the 60’s and had quite a friendship. I’m sure it had nothing to do with letting teenage Steve borrow her snazzy Ford Mustang.) Fully aware of the tenderness and gravity of the situation, I asked for prayers from friends at church; my Sunday school class; our choir; and our Sunday night prayer meeting. I asked for prayer not only for the 9:00 a.m. Friday devotional, but that the Lord would give me wisdom and guide my steps while staying with the family in Reno. Associate Pastor Andy helped set my heart at ease when he counseled me to pray that I only do good. …” As we have the opportunity, let us do good to all people”. ~Galatians 6:10 It was my release from the enormity of our circumstances that put God in control.
On Wednesday, February 29, 2012, I arrived in Reno with my famous Persimmon Cookies and crazy socks for everyone. (Nancy chose the socks with flaming hot chili peppers.) Renting a car, I drove south to the rural outskirts of Reno. After exiting the freeway per directions (No GPS!) and taking the designated highway, I must have whistled past the first turn. Knowing the highway was the back road to Lake Tahoe, I realized I had gone too far when I started climbing into tall timber and came upon the sign announcing a national forest. Turning around in the snow was tricky for this desert girl (Please God, don’t let me get stuck!), but I managed to get going again in the right direction and back to a cell phone signal. Thank goodness there was a family friend waiting to lead me through the twists and turns on the way back to their property or I would have never made it!
There it was... a real ranch house with horse corrals, a small barn, sheds and a little creek running through the edge of the property. Nancy had been right; it was quite the rambling ranch house. No telling how old the original house was, but over the years it had been adapted to whatever needs the current residents had at the time. Rooms had been added with exterior walls incorporated as interior walls; rooms were joined together like boxcars; end to end; side by side or perpendicular to one another; totally unstructured and totally charming.
It was so good to see Nancy! There she was in the same big brass bed that she had had forever, now with new pretty bed coverings. All around her bedroom, setting on tables and hanging on the walls were her pictures and mementos. Her room was right in the middle of all the other rooms. The family had taken such particular care and attention to make Nancy, their mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and friend, feel not just comfortable, but cared for and loved.
I was so thankful that God had urged me to make that trip. Not only was there precious time to be with Nancy, but He provided an opportunity for me to be with every member of the family; one on one. During each of those times, it was as if all other activity around us was suspended with no distractions, a concentrated time of shared individual discovery.
Thursday began as an exquisite morning! The crisp air was electric as John and I made our way to the corrals to see his horses. There was a little snow left on the ground from the previous night. The rising sun had begun to part the heavy grey clouds revealing patches of vivid blue sky. John opened the barn door to release the horses. They bolted out into the corral. Racing each other around the enclosure, they frolicked and kicked up their heels in obvious joy. My heart just swelled at the beauty of it all.
I had never really talked with John, but while standing by the corral watching the horses God presented one of those uninterrupted times. I shared with John how it all began from the time God first laid Nancy on my heart and our spiritual journey together. And no, I didn’t leave out the part when Nancy had said ‘I WANT JOHN GONE!’ because it made her transition to “John is taking such good care of me, even dumping my honey pot” that much sweeter. He smiled at that and said, “Well, somebody has to do it.” Then he continued by sharing how much Nancy had changed. This difference in her had opened the door in him a desire to want to help a family friend in great need.
I wasn’t able to spend much time with Holly, the oldest grand-daughter and mother of great-granddaughter Pepper. As she was working, chat time was minimal. However, what time we had was enough to get to know her as an engaging and determined young lady.
Chelsea and I shared a love of music. Sitting cross-legged on her bed with her laptop computer, Chelsea sang in a lovely clear voice with her electronic accompaniment. We enjoyed a connection that only music can give. It was one of those times when we talked about God and His place in her young life.
Time with niece Marissa came not surprisingly, in the kitchen. We found ourselves standing in front of the sink talking over old times. When I said old times, I meant really old times! When we first met, she was two and I was eighteen. Since her Uncle Tad and I had been married for forty-one years, this made for some heavy reminiscing. During our quiet time together, we talked about the amazing turn of events that had happened within the family and how God’s hand was in it all.
It was Friday morning and time for the 9:00 a.m. devotional was approaching. It seemed as if it was going to be one of those uninterrupted quiet times that I had prayed for, without distractions. Was I ever wrong! Right on time, Steve called. He and Nancy had a great time catching up on old times; lots of talking and laughing. This must have been what attracted little Pepper to burst into the room. Precisely at the time of the most fervent praying, there she was on Nancy’s bed demanding her great-grandmother’s attention. And there I was, trying to hold the phone for Nancy and at the same trying to repel the onslaught of a four-year old’s determinations. Just as I managed to pull her off the bed and stuff her out the door, in she would come through another door. This was no easy feat on my part because due to the unique design of the house, there were no less than three doors into that room! In! Out! In! Out! In! Out! If it hadn’t had been so serious, it would have been funny, like an old Keystone Cops comedy routine. But, despite the chaos in the room, the inside of Nancy’s heart was changed forever. With God giving Steve guidance, sincerely and without any hesitation, Nancy accepted Jesus Christ as her Savior.
Later that day with a heart so full of thanksgiving and joy, I hardly needed an airplane to fly home to Tucson.
I’ll bet you thought that was pretty much the end of the story, it’s not…
A few weeks later, I picked up the phone to hear the electronic bleeping that told me there was a message to be retrieved. It was the call I had been expecting ever since I left Reno. Marissa had left word that her mother had passed away a few days previously. When we were able to talk, she told me it had taken a few days to get up the gumption to call me, but not for the reason you might expect. It seems the first time she called; she got my voice messaging system. “I freaked out when I heard Uncle Tad’s voice!” This took me back a second, but then I told her we had kept the answering message Tad had recorded on the system. (It was as if he was still taking care of us.)
We laughed and agreed that would have been really long distance! Marissa went on to describe the circumstances around her mother’s passing. It seemed that she and Chelsea had been sitting with Nancy on that big brass bed. While Nancy was resting, Chelsea had her laptop computer playing, accompanying the two of them while they were both singing some songs. It was then Marissa saw the vodka bottle beside the bed. This was the only time in Nancy’s life that kind of pain killer had any legitimate use. Marissa thought “Why not?” She already had been drinking some fruit juice and added a shot to her glass. So, there they were having a party; flopping around on the bed, talking, laughing, and singing away until they glanced over at Nancy. It was then they realized that in her sleep, Nancy had stopped breathing and during the party, she had quietly slipped away…
‘Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now I am found. Was blind, but now I see.’ John Newton
"Reflections of These Golden Threads…"
I can’t help but reflect on what a difference these circumstances were from what the circumstances could have been surrounding Nancy’s passing from this life to the next. Looking back, I can see God at work in the incredible changes in both of our lives. It started when I first said “Yes” to God and then picked up the telephone…
There is something about writing down events that have happened after time has passed. The details may get overlooked. While that may not necessarily be a bad thing, those of you who know me will know when I tell a story, I don’t leave many details untold. My mother-in-law used to say that Nancy would never let the truth hurt a good story. But each story, each experience is as true as I can remember it and I pray the Lord will help me to make it so.
There was a time when I left off writing “Nancy” and the events leading up to March 2012. This seems to have been in part because Nancy’s story had yet to unfold completely, and enough time had to pass for my spiritual growth and insight. In January 2015, the Lord once again impressed on my heart the importance of writing down my stories. He has entrusted these extraordinary experiences in the lives of those most precious to me to be recorded and not kept just in my memory. I believe “These Golden Threads” are His gift for me to witness and share with you.
*All photography was taken with my little digital camera or camera phone except for “Singing at Abbyfield” (Kathy Thorlakson)
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