A friend stepped outside the other morning and noticed a hawk circling overhead.
"Someone died..." she knew. Later that day she heard who it was.
Being in the presence of a good woman was a sweet gift. As Greta's body slowed down it was my luck to drive her to
appointments. Mind you slowing down for her meant no more cross country skiing, or riding her bike, or brisk walks in the fields outside her back door. She did not give up exercising. In fact it was pulling on a bungie cord, which snapped, that broke a vertebrae. More recently she strained a muscle in her thigh while doing squats.
Greta did not see herself as needing help. In fact she only acquiesced to using a handicapped placard a few weeks ago. She and her
husband used to go sing for the old people at a nursing home, when they were in their eighties.
Greta and Fred had seven children and a gaggle of grandchildren, who lived in interesting places. Being fearless travelers, they went to visit them in Singapore, Malaysia, Alaska, Boston, Vermont, England, and China.
When they lived in a small home with one bathroom, Greta invited a nursing student who needed housing to live with them.
It was not a problem to make room. It was a blessing.
Greta and Fred were some of the original Stephen Ministers in our community. They invested time listening to people who needed support, offering comfort and a piece of their unshakable trust in God's providence.
Greta kept Fred's voice on her answering machine, and it was sweet to hear him inviting me to leave a message. Their love is as vibrant as ever, and the separation is
but a blink in that illusion we call time.
She has finally left this worn out body, and will rejoin her beloved Fred. I bet he already has a set of skis waiting for her.
