One of my dear aunts called me on the phone yesterday, to ask about my brother who just had lung surgery, amongst other topics. My Aunt really isn't my "aunt" in technical terms. She is actually my cousin but back in the days when I was a child, we always called those women relatives who were quite a bit (at least 20 yrs) older than we were by the term "Aunt". That's what I was taught to do back then & that's what I do now... she's my Aunt Shirley & that's that. My mother had 7 brothers & sisters and Aunt Shirley was the child of my mom's oldest sister, Aunt Julie. There are only a few years difference between Aunt Julie's child & Aunt Julie's youngest sibling, my Aunt Charlotte. So if I had to call Charlotte by the term Aunt, then I suspect they figured I might as well call my cousin, who was about the same age, by the term Aunt also.
Works for me and always has.
The older I get (I'm 54 now... turning 55 this summer) the closer in kindredship I feel towards my "Aunt" Shirley. She & I have a lot more in common now than we've ever had previously. Age has a tendency to do that, doesn't it. We both pretty much run our lives the same, very similar to the way our parents did... homemade suppers, Laundry Day Mondays, calling on the phone to find out how relatives are feeling after surgeries, sending get well cards via the post office rather than cyberspace. After we got caught up on the medical updates of folks in the family, we ventured to the top of the good ole days... a sure sign that both of us are indeed getting older!!
We talked about the "meal train" that every woman could expect to roll in to her household during the couple weeks after a major surgery or birthing a baby. That was just something that friends/family did for friends/family. No one had the money to buy fast food every night for 2 weeks & even if they did, fast food gets pretty tasteless after a couple days of it. So women would get together with each other (over the telephone) and each signed up for providing a meal on the day of their choice. When it was our turn to cook, we ALWAYS made our very best... our specialty... to take over to the family in need. Yes, that was probably a prideful thing but that's simply the way it was then. All women took pride in their cooking, cleaning & homemaking skills.
Today things like that simply don't happen. At least not very often. My Aunt Shirley & I discussed that awhile, trying to come up with reasons things have changed so drastically in the last 3 decades or less. I told her I personally think it's money and people having just too dang much of it these days. She thinks people are spoiled, not wanting to resort to what someone else decided they are going to have for supper. Another idea was that most people have "virtual" friends & the true, flesh-and-blood friends simply don't exist in folks' world of reality. It's so easy to send a "get well" email or comment to someone, upon hearing of their surgery, and leave it go at that. No one really wants to invest their time (time = themselves) in anything other than what they want to do. Doing something for someone else? Making a self-sacrifice for someone else?
Don't. Think. So.
As I told my Aunt Shirley, I don't think people are hungry enough... or destitute enough... or needy enough... or despairing enough... to understand the importance of neighbors, friends, & family. Times just plainly are not bad enough (yet) to understand what sharing a meal with a neighbor means. Your own refrigerator has to be empty at home, before you really understand how wonderful it is to sit down at your neighbor's table for a good, wholesome, homecooked meal (complete with dessert). You have to be without an operational vehicle before you really understand how generous it was for your retired Uncle Joe to pick you up, take you to the doctor's office for your appointment, and wait outside in the car until you're finished. You have to be without any clothes for your child who just had a growth spurt, and without the money to buy any new ones, before you realize what a true blessing that a bag of hand-me-down clothes from a friend really is. You have to be in an awful lot of pain after a major surgery, with people in the household whose stomachs are growling & the family purse empty & you just not able to get up to stand at the stove to fry some eggs for sandwiches, to realize how closely a pot of chili delivered to your doorstep by a dear friend really does resemble a meal fit for a King & Queen.
Many folks in our society, of the younger generation especially, feel they don't need anything or anybody in order to survive. Or sadly enough, maybe they don't even know any better & don't understand that people helping people is the only way any of us survive on this earth.
Maybe they don't realize because they've never heard of Matthew 25:45 "I can guarantee this truth: Whatever you failed to do for one of my brothers or sisters, no matter how unimportant they seemed, you failed to do for me."
Maybe because, in this land of plenty, most folks don't think they need God either. I wonder if we're beyond the point of being able to turn that around?
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