“Spiritual gifts are the threads that weave our shared humanity.”-Author unknown
As older adults, we often look back and think if only we had a second chance to really get to know that person, that friend, that family member or even that adversary. Unfortunately, we may never learn until much later that we were actually privileged to witness a remarkable and meaningful legacy being built.
I had the honor of knowing a woman — my wife’s mother, Edythe — who I eventually came to admire deeply. Our beginning was rough, a part I prefer to forget. But through time, she taught me something invaluable – that giving, caring, and volunteering take many forms, many of which sadly go unnoticed.
Despite enduring immense hardships (severe childhood abuse, living at the YWCA at age 16 doing ironing part-time while finishing high school, working two jobs for many years to support the family and to pay off high debt left by her husband following divorce, and losing her only son to suicide), Edythe remained a selfless, behind-the-scenes contributor.
Working well into her 80s, she was multi-talented, creating documents as church secretary, performing data processing, and managing doctor offices. Despite the many hours she devoted to her jobs, she always made time for her faith, and remained humble while spending every last penny to help others. Her life was a testament to resilience; though so much had been taken from her, though life had thrown her curveball after curveball, she somehow found a way to give back through her generosity and selflessness.
When I first met Edythe, our relationship was strained, often marked by serious verbal conflicts. I struggled to understand why my attempts to get to know her seemed to trigger such resistance. As a therapist, I thought asking personal questions was a natural way to connect, but I failed to consider how deeply wounded and mistrustful she was. Given her history, her vulnerabilities were not something she was willing to share easily. Therapists, after all, can be just as insensitive as anyone else, and I had my own issues mixed in with hers.
Later in life, Edythe joined a Nazarene church and became deeply involved in its activities. One of her most remarkable contributions was making dresses for girls in Haiti. Over five years, she single-handedly transformed more than 22,000 pillowcases into beautiful dresses. What made this even more extraordinary was that she had severe arthritis in her fingers, often sewing through pain, and had limited eyesight, struggling to thread the needle or sew a straight hem. Weekly, she visited thrift stores, searching for fashionable pillowcases – everything from solid colors to floral prints, images of famous paintings, cartoon characters, nature scenes, wildlife and more. Doing our small part, my wife and I often searched our local thrift stores, also, and I remember that once we scored about 30 Disney pillowcases to send to her in Ohio.
Beyond her dress ministry, she was always creating patchwork quilts to brighten the days of shut-ins or Cancer survivors, or as a keepsake to family. I think we have at least two from her, one of which took months as she carefully crafted squares to reflect specific memories. She also took it upon herself to send cards weekly to those who were ill, who couldn’t attend church or who were going through a devastating loss.
Her life was not an easy one, but Edythe never let her hardships define her. Instead, she chose to give -quietly, tirelessly, and without seeking recognition. Her unnoticed gifts of the spirit continue to inspire me, and I learned a valuable lesson from her: my desire of pushing someone too hard to really get to know them, or wanting them to know me is never respectful, desirable and can appear very selfish.
Edythe died in the summer of 2019. Closets filled with dress materials for Haiti were donated to an Ohio organization, which to this day, continue to make dresses for Haitian girls. At her memorial service, church members told her daughters that they had big shoes to fill. Now, that’s a legacy.
Exercise
Do you know someone you need to recognize and appreciate, someone who is building a legacy? What’s stopping you from connecting with that person?
Connect with me at: djlmft@wrinkledworriedwise.com
Remember, don’t act your age!