List 23 - Twelve reasons you need a friend like Charlie King . . .

Today will be a little different on Press Pause.  I'm a day behind, as I didn't get to the list on Friday.  Be patient with me, though, because you MUST hear about my buddy, Charlie.  (We'll do the Mystery Photo tomorrow.)

Saturday, a whole bunch of folks said our good-byes to an unforgettable friend.  I want you to know about him.  I realize that I cannot blog about every person who passes away, but some folks are big enough characters to more than warrant a post.  Charlie King was one of those.  There are a million and two interesting things I could tell you about my friend (and that's not even counting the ones I can't actually write about on the blog), and I've only known him for 12 of his almost 97 years.  I can honestly say that Charlie did more living and thinking and celebrating and wondering in the short time I knew him than most of us can squeeze into a lifetime!

I'll attach some links for you to read more about this intriguing human being, but I'd like to dedicate this list to a few of the reasons that Charlie King touched me.  Those of us who lived alongside of him have a hole in our hearts.  Those of you who weren't lucky enough to love and be loved by him need to go find someone like him!  They don't come any cooler, at any age, and my life will be better for having known him.


http://www.covnews.com/section/122/article/30067/

http://www.rockdalecitizen.com/news/2012/jun/14/charlie-king-jr-dies-at-96/

http://www.covnews.com/section/1/article/30097/


Thank you, Charlie, for knowing us all in just the way we needed to be known.  Thank you for your insight, your smarts, the connections you made for us all, and for the example of living a life so completely.  And, thank you for  the moments we all had with you, for your way with words, your dedication to everyone and everything you loved, your spot-on humor and your unforgettable gift of friendship.

I have never known a person who is more successful at appreciating and preserving the past, living in the present and looking forward to the future.  I know many who are wonderful historians - they help us remember important moments and learn from them.  They know the stories that we need to hear, again and again.  I know folks who are amazing examples of living in the here and now - they help us notice the perfect present and notice what's happening today, where we're living.  And, I know people who spend much of their time preparing for tomorrow - they are looking ahead and planning on behalf of us all.  I cannot imagine, though, that I've ever met a person who did a better job of all three than Mr. Charlie.  I wasn't even sure it could be done so well by one individual.  Charlie did it and he was an example for all of us.

So, here are a mere few of the reasons I'll always remember Charlie King, why I'm so thankful my children knew and loved him, and why I want you to know about him:

1. He joined facebook at age 95.  
2. He could tell a story about any - thing, person, place or event.  Period.  And they were always entertaining!
3. He knew everyone - really knew us.  He knew what each of us loved, what we did in our spare time, what we wished for and how all of us were connected.
4. He was dedicated to his country and to his world.  
5. He NEVER stopped questioning and wondering and asking 'Why?'
6. Everything and everyone mattered to Charlie.  If your life path crossed his, he made it his business to KNOW you.  It didn't matter your age, your past, your color, your origin - what mattered was the connection he could make with you.  And, he could make a connection with anyone, anywhere.  
7. I never saw him at a loss for words, and yet I never heard him say anything that wasn't meaningful.
8. He was a walking history book AND spent much of his time working to make this world a better place for those who would live long after his death.
9. He didn't just talk - he listened.  He wanted to know about us all, about what we were involved with and what made us tick.
10. He was as at home in the wilderness he worked to sustain as in front of computer equipment that scared folks a fourth his age.
11. When our church youth group spent an evening at the homeless shelter last fall - cooking, playing, and learning - Charlie was there, too.  
12. He lived, fully and wonderfully. 

Charlie at the homeless shelter in September.

Covington, Ga and the rest of the world will be a different place because you were here.

And, somehow, I imagine you'll love having little ones tromping around where we laid your ashes. And that seems just perfect.  Thank you, Charles Chester King, for all that you taught us.

Monday Morning Mary George

I'm forgoing the usual 'Monday Morning What is it?' because this is a special week - this week I've decided to use the whole week to highlight an incredible person I've known.

On Saturday I woke up and realized that it was my Mother's birthday.  Of course I had known that before that morning, but the busy week had let it slip from my mind.  When it came back to me, I took a few moments to just think about her.  I spent a little more time than usual to consider how old she would be if she were still alive and what she might be doing.  I guess I've done that before, but maybe I've not given myself the time to really let it sink in.  On Saturday I did.  I thought about how it had been twenty one years since I last saw my Mom and I thanked God that most days I can still hear her laugh in my head.  Twenty one years is a long time.  A long time when you consider all that happens in lifetimes in twenty one years.

I did the math and realized that my mother would have been seventy three on Saturday and thought about how different that is from fifty two.  It was a lot to think about.  My sister and I, and all of my Mom's friends and family, have done a lot of things since we've seen her.  A lot has happened.  Of course I've kept her posted and I have a strong sense that she knows the good stuff, the way we all are doing.

I thought about devoting the blog this week to her and I instantly liked the idea.  And then I had a little laugh - my Mom never knew about blogs.   She was such a writer, I'm sure she would have one today if she were still here!  I can just imagine all of the stories she would tell, all of the ways that she would have us all en-rapt and laughing and crying and thinking.

Maybe her story-telling is what I'll tell you most about.  There is lots to say about Mary George Dean Murphy; but if I had to describe her in one word, there is no doubt that the word would be storyteller. 
I have a sense that those of you who knew her are nodding your heads right about now.

This week I want to tell you some of her stories, and let her tell you some.  I want to tell you about how hilarious she was, what a devoted and life-changing teacher she was and I want to tell you about her bravery.  I don't want to make her perfect.   That would not be fair.  I won't tell you that we got along perfectly in all of our twenty seven years together or that my Mom's life was full of bliss.  No one's life is perfect and that wouldn't do justice to the many layers that were her life.  I remember a conversation I had with my good friend and priest, Martha, just after Mom died.  Martha gave me insight about remembering my Mom and she urged me not to do the 'easy thing' and make her perfect in death.  That was good advice.  Lives are too full of too many different things, and sweeping the hard stuff under the table seems too much like erasing part of the life.  My Mom's life was wonderful and hard and complex and interesting and rich and so much more.  I can't tell that story in one week, but it will be fun to try.  Thanks for coming along on the ride.

I've read that blog posts should be short and concise - excuse me, as I ignore that rule.  Today I want to let my Mom tell a story.  I want you to meet her (or reunite with her) with her as narrator.    Narrator was a role she liked!

Like me, my mother had close relationships with both of her grandmothers and they meant a great deal to her.  She often told me about all that she learned from each of them, different things that made her life richer and wiser.  Mama Jones, her mother's mother lived in the country and Mama Dean, her father's mother, lived in the city.  They couldn't have been any more different.

 Mama Dean (the town grandmother) and Mama Jones (the country grandmother)

I knew Mama Dean (the one from the city) and loved her.  If I could do her justice, I would write a book about her.  She was larger than life and left us with boocoos (did you get that flashback to an earlier post?) of stories.  Mom never got to write her story about Mama Dean, and she wanted to.  She told me often that she was attempting to come up with the right story, the one that would paint a picture of Mama Dean.  She had figured out how to illustrate Mama Jones, but she was working on what to say about her other grandmother.

So, this story is about Mama Jones, her country grandmother.  When I came into the picture, Mama Jones was a tiny woman, quiet and very old.  My mother could make me see what she had been in life, but I did not witness it myself.  My mother told me some of her magic, and I've always been grateful to have this story.

It's long, but I hope you'll find time to read it.  I think you'll enjoy it.  I imagine that it can be a fun respite from this world to take a few moments and read about another time.  Maybe you can wonder about some of the folks in your family who lived before.

Enjoy this gift from my Mom . . .