Have you ever had the experience of something flashing thorough your mind from years ago? Well, tonight, I was enjoying a bowl of orange sherbet after dinner and a wave of memories came over me.
First, when my brother, sisters, or me were sick with the flu or a cold and were running a fever, our Momma would give us a bowl of orange sherbet to help us feel better. She was afraid that the milk in regular ice cream would make our stomachs upset so sherbet was the remedy. It never failed to work.
Then, fast forward twenty years and my Daddy had suffered a heart attack that would eventually take his life. He was hospitalized at Roper Hospital in downtown Charleston. The year was 1973 and I was a twenty-four-year old Lieutenant in the St. Andrews Fire Department, just starting to gain ground in my career. I was excited to have followed my Daddy into the Fire Service and really was hoping to make him proud. Well, the Good Lord had other plans and in the 17 or so days he was in the hospital, he would not take any food even though we tried so hard to get him to eat. One day, I said, “Daddy is there anything I can get you that you will eat?” He looked up and me and said, “I want some orange sherbet”. I told him that I would be back in a few minutes as I set out to find his orange sherbet. Well, it was 1973 and there were not many stores open late at night. Not to be denied, I finally found some at a convenience store West of the Ashley. I hurried back to the hospital and sat with him to feed him the sherbet. It probably took an hour to let him have the small amount he ate, a teaspoon at a time. It was the only thing he ate during his entire 17 days in the hospital. He seemed pleased and thanked me for getting it for him.
It was obvious that his time was short, and I went down to the hospital lobby late that night to sit quietly in the dark. I was overwhelmed by the thought of losing him, my Daddy, my hero, my mentor, my Fire Chief. I found myself praying aloud to the Lord to please not let him suffer, not to keep him hanging on in such misery but to just cover him in His grace and I would do my part to take care of my Momma. Shortly, before daylight, my brother, Jimmy, came to find me to tell me Daddy was gone. I knew that the Lord had heard me, and I felt so sad, but relieved.
I know this is a sad story, especially for my dear sister, LuAnn, but it explains how our upbringing guided us through life, one story at a time.
I also know that at 70 years old, I am in the winter season of my life and one day I too will enjoy my last bowl of sherbet. But, praise the Lord, we all will be rejoined in Heaven to once again, love one another.
And just in case, any of you are wondering what has gotten into me tonight, know this. My wonderful therapist has helped me more than I can ever say. Wait! Therapist? G has a therapist? Yes, she takes care of me so, hopefully, I can encourage all of you to seek help, and to join me in setting an example for others. This story above is me just practicing mindfulness and self-care. Taking life’s experiences and turning them to some good.
Next time you are enjoying some sherbet, please think of me. My favorite is orange, just like my Daddy.
Gerald