Unlikely friends

The first time I met Louise, I thought she was the stereotypical Church Lady. She looked the part with her white hair, glasses, and mustard yellow plaid polyester pantsuit. She was very intent on meeting me that day, a wide-eyed newcomer to her church. She looked me in the eye, shook my hand, and whatever she said…which I honestly can’t remember now…made me feel like I was on notice. God was watching me and so was Louise.

I had never been a church goer before. I didn’t have very much religious knowledge, I had my own personal spiritual belief system that I had hodge-podged together, and the last label I wanted associated with me was Christian. But for a variety of reasons, Rob and I had found ourselves searching for a church. After four months and one very pivotal lunch with an amazingly authentic and open pastor, we found a home where we both felt comfortable. We became regular attendees of Louise’s church in the summer of 2005.

About a year later, I started hanging out with Louise. I was curious about the church's history and Louise was a goldmine.  I went to her house now and then for coffee. I actually don’t like coffee but I loved sitting at her old wooden dining table, sipping rehydrated coffee crystals out of an old ceramic mug, feeling every bit of a Folgers TV commercial from 1974.

Perhaps a year later, a mutual friend organized a rotation of women to go visit Louise weekly. Louise was widowed and living on her own. She needed to do some mobility exercises and a daily visitor was a nice bonus. I volunteered for Wednesdays. Louise has been a part of my Wednesday mornings ever since, aside from the occasional trip out of town, snow storm, or nasty cold.

My Wednesday visits evolved from exercises in her home to exercises in her assisted living facility. After Louise fell and broke her hip, the exercises dwindled to none and she moved from a rehab facility to a senior facility to finally an adult family home run by one of the kindest hearts God ever created. Bless you, Olga.

Most visits Louise and I would talk, I would read her the bulletin from our church, fill her in on people’s comings and goings, and compare aches and pains. As her age and illness progressed, I would wheel her down to the dining hall for lunch, pour her coffee, and clip her bib around her neck. By the time she got to Olga’s about 3 years ago, Louise wasn’t talking much and was not able to walk. But she could still smile broadly with her eyes, communicate with raised arms, and give great hugs.

It seemed an unlikely friendship, me the questioning unbeliever and Louise, the scary Church Lady. But as we got to know each other, I realized she was not a scary Church Lady at all. She was simply a woman filled with faith and convicted to live by it. Louise held her brightly lit candle for everyone to see. She was an example to many and yet when you tried to tell her that, she would brush off your words, not feeling worthy of them. From Louise's example, I learned commitment. I learned faith. I learned how to sort of understand the King James version of the Bible. And I learned a new meaning of sister.

Louise passed away this morning. Her oldest son called me and began the conversation with the words, “I have GREAT NEWS!” As I still sit with the news I knew was coming and yet ache with the reality of it, I realize that yes, it is indeed great news. Louise is finally with her beloved Wally and her beloved God. She feels no pain, no heartache, no insecurity. And if her son’s prediction is right, Louise is busy asking Paul the Apostle a number of questions…no doubt over the best pot of coffee God ever made.

Me and Louise on her 83rd birthday -- July 2010