Sunday, March 20, 2022

HELLO AGAIN

 3890

My precious Buddy crossed the Rainbow Bridge fourteen years ago.

And while Buddy was a female dog, a Shih Tzu, I endowed her with a moniker which expressed the quality and depth of the relationship which I, ultimately, established with her. And I could not have given her a more appropriate name. Buddy.

Her life was simply a grace, and she was, as scripture characterizes it, “a friend who loves at all times.”

I have previously written about Buddy’s unique wherewithal to complete the mission which I am convinced that God assigned her; before He made the worlds.

The dear little bedraggled pooch showed up in my front yard one day in 1996; having apparently “made good her escape” from parts unknown. From that time forward she became “part and parcel” of our lives, and, (as any dog owner can relate) she soon became “family.”

However, for a very brief period of time, we kept her in the garage. And one day, as she patiently waited to become a full-fledged member of the family, and my wife was home alone, Jean heard the garage door go up, and Buddy began barking. As soon as the door went up, it came back down. And while Buddy’s 15 pound physique was more bark than bite, her bark was apparently enough to scare the intruder away.

Then, there was the time when our daughter was involved in a divorce, and had temporarily moved back into our home. As “Kinsey” lay on her bed crying, Buddy found a place on the floor beside her. And though I tried to get her to ride to town with me, (and more than once), she maintained her empathetic, solitary vigil.

Then, there was the time when Buddy began following my wife around the house, a habit that only abated when Jean lay down one day, and was overcome with despair, and a sensation that she was dying. Given Buddy’s apparent wherewithal to literally smell the ‘villain,’ and the emotions which overcame my wife, I encouraged her to make an immediate appointment with her doctor; upon which a mammogram was ordered, and a malignant tumor was discovered; (which thankfully was remedied by a lumpectomy).

 

I have often surmised that our little Buddy fulfilled her mission in life; (while many people never do). And in retrospect, I have mused that if any creature possessed the wherewithal to make herself known after her demise, Buddy was a very likely candidate.

Pt. 2

Our precious pooch had only recently crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and I was grieving her; as I had never grieved man, or beast in my almost six decades on this planet.

One late evening, after I resorted to my bed, and was attempting to sleep, I sensed something; an extraordinary something. For something invisible, but which manifested weight, was suddenly lying against my right shoulder! And there was this uncanny sense of respiration! In and out. In and out. And while I don’t recall actually hearing that recurrent exchange of oxygen, the proximity of the being beside me allowed me to feel it.

Since my wife is a nurse, and we ‘enjoyed’ different schedules, she and I had long since maintained separate bedrooms. Buddy slept on my bed. And this dear little critter spent her last night on earth on my bed.

I can tell you that while I was surprised at the foregoing development, there was absolutely no fear. But rather, a sense of comfort, and the identity of my nocturnal visitor was readily apparent to me.

At this juncture, I can’t tell you how long the miraculous visitation lasted, perhaps as little as a minute; perhaps as many as five. And in like manner, I cannot begin to tell you now whether the second manifestation occurred on the same, or on a different evening.

But as I was drifting off to sleep on that, or a different night, I sensed a familiar ‘something’ at my feet.

I kept a pillow for Buddy at that end of the bed, and when wakefulness gave way to drowsiness, it was her practice to seek out that small piece of rectangular comfort. And while our dear pooch had ceased to live and breathe and move, the pillow has remained in its same old place. (And though almost a decade and a half has come and gone since she “gave up the ghost,” I have maintained the practice of laying a pillow at the foot of my bed).

I suddenly felt an invisible weight lying against my right foot. Invisible, yet tangible. And I felt that same sense of comfort, as I did when she lay against my shoulder. I was afraid to move. I wanted whatever grace I had been momentarily given to linger.

But as I recall, when I finally dared shift my position, the magic ended, and the weighty sensation with it.

Pt. 3

As I was walking in my neighborhood one evening, perhaps a month after the loss of my beloved Buddy, and I found myself reminiscing about the old girl,

…I saw it,

(or should I use a different pronoun)?

…I saw her.

Suddenly, not ten feet ahead of me, what seemed to be a little white pooch appeared out of nothingness, slowly walked across my path way, and entered my neighbor’s front yard.

And as quickly as she appeared, she immediately relinquished her physicality.

I can’t account for why I was blessed to realize such momentary manifestations of my precious pooch.

But at least for me, there remains that quiet reassurance that our pets are alive and well, and reside in a land where the roses never fade, and no tear dims the eye.

At least if you believe Psalm 36:6,

“You, Lord preserve mankind and animals, alike.”

Pt. 4

My little Buddy crossed the Rainbow Bridge far too soon. Like many of her breed, she experienced allergies, and had to have steroidal medication to keep her from scratching her eyes out. As a result, through the years her liver values rose. I often mused that it was like taking poison to stay alive. She left us literally in the course of a night, and only graced this earth an all too brief decade in time.

And after she left us, I could hardly be consoled. However, among those who offered their consolation, I recall two in particular. Darlene M. and Melodi W. The former sent me a lovely card which I scanned, and still post on the social media pages of those whose pet pooches have recently crossed the Rainbow Bridge. The latter of these wonderful ladies offered me an encouraging written sentiment which included, as I recall, the hope and the promise that I would see my precious Buddy again one day.

(And as I have recounted, I both saw her again, and experienced her unseen presence; sooner than I had any reason to expect).

Recently, I recounted some unexplained visitations:

“Today is the 14th anniversary of my dear Buddy’s journey across the Rainbow Bridge. And while I haven’t seen or heard ‘hide nor hair’ from her since those manifestations immediately after her passing, some mighty peculiar things have been happening the past few days.

Nearly a decade and a half after my Buddy’s ethereal trip across the Rainbow Bridge, she (or perhaps God, Himself) made the decision to expend a bit more grace upon me.

I was lying in my easy chair in the wee hours of the morning, and sleeping well when…

I heard something in our back room.

Like a dog shaking water off her back after a summer swim. And two unspoken words seemed to accompany the auditory sensation I have previously described.

 

“Hello again!”

Pt. 5

My dear little Buddy had returned; if only for a moment. And yet, for the brevity of her visitation, I was both excited and encouraged by her unexpected visit. And it was then that I glanced at the time on my cable box, and noticed it indicated 3:16am. (And for anyone who is versed in scripture, those numbers are especially meaningful).

And I thought, Grace. And indeed, I could not help but think of this “strange and wonderful” occurrence, as anything but Grace.

The same thing happened again a few days later. And I thought,

“If any creature God ever made deserved an opportunity to make herself known, after he or she had left this earthly sphere, it was my little Buddy.” (And it occurred to me that my precious little creature had managed to do something that Harry Houdini, the great magician, had promised to do, but failed to keep his promise).

But to return to my account.

“A couple of days ago I was seated at a table, (the location is unimportant) when suddenly something touched my right leg, as if an unseen creature had thrown its front paws up onto my thigh. And I knew. I just knew.

“Buddy was saying, ‘Hello again!’

“14 years since the lovely little creature crossed the Rainbow Bridge. 14. 7x2. Seven being the perfect number. 7x2 = 14.

“Without question, or contradiction, Buddy was doubly perfect.”

Well, I would soon discover there was a lot more to the second round of Buddy’s posthumous visitations, than I have described, above.

Pt. 6

For you see, a few days ago I received a message from my friend, Melodi W. Her precious pooch, Angelo, a Jack Russell Terrier, crossed the Rainbow Bridge last week.

Melodi told me that she adopted the precious creature when he was one, and that he was fifteen when he crossed the Rainbow Bridge. She went on to say,

“The past few months I would carry him out to the yard, and he would lift his nose to heaven with his eyes closed, as if he was smelling the sky.

“I told him that’s what he has to look forward to, and that is what heaven will be like. I could almost feel he would be there shortly. I think my Dad needed him, and is showing him all the mountains, and valleys, and places to run.”

My friend continued her account.

“Angelo loved to play ball, and chicken. He loved to run with me and sleep in my bed. He knew when I was sad, and wouldn’t leave my side. He was a big baby, and loved to lie on his back, and let me massage his stomach. He would fall asleep upside down.”

Apparently, Angelo left in a moment, and didn’t suffer. And I thought, “It was especially merciful that both my Buddy, and Melodi’s Angelo left us with little or no suffering.”

And it suddenly occurred to me.

Whereas, Buddy had chosen to remain silent, and unseen since just after she pitter-pattered across the Rainbow Bridge, I think her excitement knew no bounds when she discovered Angelo was about to make the same journey, and join her in the hereafter.

Someone has referred to it as “Poetic License,” …but I can just see Jesus scooping up my bless-ed pooch in His arms, and with a whimsical smile on His face, He whispers in her ear,

“Buddy, you never knew Melodi, and you never met her wonderful little friend, Angelo; (though the two of you shared a little time and space on the beautiful planet I created).

“My servant, Melodi encouraged your master after you crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and joined me in this marvelous place. And it will soon be Angelo’s turn to cross over, and join us here. And… I think the two of you should meet.”

And it all became crystal clear to me.

This is why Buddy chose to say, “Hello again.” For I think she was overwhelmed with joy that our Lord had chosen a special companion for her, and that Angelo would make his appearance in a few short days. And my precious pooch longed to share her joy with the someone who had loved her so well, and for so long.

And now, with a wink and a nod, and as He bent to place the little Shih Tzu upon the golden street, the Savior’s voice erupted like a stream of mighty waters, and His victorious shout reached a thundering crescendo…

“Go. Go share your joy with your earthly friend. But come back quickly. Don’t delay. Your former master will understand soon enough.”

And with this, the bless-ed creature looked lovingly into the eyes of the One who created her, and seconds later she momentarily relinquished her Heavenly Home in favor of an earthly one.

Pt. 7

Of course, after my dear friend, Melodi shared the news of her sweet’s Angelo’s passing with me, “my eyes were opened” and I could not help but share my newfound insight with her.

It was my turn to encourage Melodi. (And what a joy for me to do so).

And she responded with,

“Awe, Dr. Bill!!! Thank you for this hope and reminder!!! I really needed this right now! I was visiting with my Mom when Angelo passed away, so I wasn’t here to tell him ‘good bye.’ I am so happy you had this experience because it was for me too!!! Angelo was my best friend, and walked through my divorce, and my Dad’s homegoing. I could always count on him!

“Last night the sunset had a silver lining around the clouds, and I felt like God was saying to me that, ‘There is always a silver lining in every situation, even as dark as it may seem.’

“I love you, and I’m thankful you shared this story with me!!!

“My dad adored Angelo, and I can see Jesus saying,

‘Get ready, Bob. Your buddy is almost here!’

“Maybe my Dad needed someone from our family, and Jesus didn’t want to take me, or my Mom away; because we still have work to do here.”

(and)

“Your words and encounter with Buddy the past few weeks were meant to help me! God knew you could share this with me to give me peace that they are closer than we know. I’m trying to stay busy because everything around me reminds me of him.

“He was such a huge part of my everyday life. He was always beside me. I believe my Dad knew and was waiting for him. He loved Angelo so much and would throw the ball to him for hours. I love and appreciate your encouragement more than you will ever know.”

Pt. 8

On the back cover of my little volume, “A Man’s Tribute to His Beloved Dogs,” I wrote a reflection for anyone who loves their pets, and expects to see them again one day.

(And I think the following reminiscence should encourage the Bill’s and Melodi’s, and all the other believers of the world, that their Buddy’s and Angelo’s will… be waiting for them).

“But perhaps our Savior will smile, and beckon with His hand, as if to say, ‘Well, there she is. What are you waiting for? There’s fields and flowers and trees aplenty. Romp and run and carry on. Love that little puppy of yours for all you’re worth.’

“And with this, I’ll turn and my most favorite creature will be looking up at me expectantly; eyes shining, ears twitching and tail wagging. With this, my heart will skip a few beats, and I’ll scoop her up in my arms, and she will rest contentedly against my shoulder. And best of all, we will remember one another, and the love we knew will be undimmed and stronger for the years we were apart.”

 

I can just see Bob and Angelo playing a game of catch on the heavenly streets. And now, the precious pooch misses one toss, and the ball bounces up to the foot of their Savior.

Bob and Angelo seem frozen in place, as our Lord looks down at the glorious pavement; where gold is as common, and plentiful as the concrete and asphalt of an earthly street.

And then, the Alpha and Omega, the First and the Last, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Holy One of the ages, the great “I AM,”… smiles a smile that would light up the world, bends at the waist, recovers the ball, and tosses it to Angelo. And it seems the puppy’s joy knows no bounds. And he scampers off to retrieve it.

Now, my little Buddy appears, and in some mysterious way known only to God, the precious pooches recognize each other. And with tails wagging, and eyes glistening, they run towards one another, and their noses touch.

 

And now, Angelo forgets his game of catch, (but not his dear friend, Bob), and he scampers towards a nearby stream. And my precious little Buddy is not all that far behind him.

by William McDonald, PhD

THAT DON'T HURT

 3889

Tonight, I was reflecting back on an experience from a very long time ago. (Can it be almost 70 years)?

 

I was seven or eight at the time, I suppose, and even then, I was quite a character. I presume my elementary teacher had said something about the way different substances burn, or I had watched a program on the subject on our 1950’s era black & white television with the rabbit ears antennas on top.

 

I have no idea what my parents were up to at the time, but I recall reaching into the kitchen closet one day, and pulling out a plastic bottle of alcohol, and a box of those long phosphorus tipped matches. Then, I opened one of the doors below the kitchen sink and grabbed an aluminum pie plate.

 

Walking out to the utility room, I set my unlikely treasures onto the washing machine. Now, I unscrewed the alcohol lid, and poured a few ounces of the clear liquid into the aluminum pan. (I recall my dad always pronounced this word as “alunimum." Do you recall this Wayne, Brent and Linda)?

 

At any rate, I was compelled to see what happened when alcohol burned. (Evidently, I realized that alcohol possessed different qualities than gasoline, and wasn’t explosive…. thankfully for me). Now, I pulled a red-tipped match from its sturdy box, struck it on the black side panel, and dropped it into the pan.

 

A beautiful blue flame danced along the surface of the flammable liquid. I had never seen anything quite like it. Like my own personal aurora. It was then I heard the back door open. And as you might imagine, the sound, (and the impeding trouble which came with it) startled me.

 

My left hand had been resting near the pie plate, and now I involuntarily bumped against it. The flaming alcohol spread across the surface of the washing machine, and poured down its sides!

Pt. 2

 

I was totally unprepared for this development, and didn’t have any idea what to do to remedy the catastrophe. Looking to my right I saw my father’s excited visage. He screamed as loud as I had ever heard him scream!

 

“Royce! What the h_ _ _ are you doing?”

 

Without waiting for a rhetorical answer, he continued to pummel me with decibels.

 

“Move outta my way!”

 

Now, daddy grabbed a throw rug on which I had been standing, and began to smother the flaming alcohol. First in one area, and then in another. He realized that slapping the fiery inferno with the rug would only spread it throughout the utility room, and potentially the entire house. (Had I been there alone, we might have lost our home).

 

Daddy spoke again. His initial shock and awe turned into resolve.

 

“Royce, what on earth were you thinking?”

 

(and)

 

“March yourself into your bedroom.”

 

And as he was mouthing the last couple of words, my father reached towards his waist, and stripped off his black leather belt.

Pt. 3

 

As I ran through the back door, it seemed the blood had drained from my mother’s face.

 

“Henry, what do you think you’re going to do?”

 

As daddy rushed past her, he responded to her question.

 

“Erma, that son of yours was playing with alcohol and matches in the utility room. He came close to burning the house down!”

 

Daddy was just steps behind me. I had already assumed the “grab your knees and grit your teeth” position. There could be little doubt about the fate which awaited me. I think it was the first time he ever applied the ultimate penalty to my hinder parts.

 

Now, my father wound up like a major league pitcher, and brought “Old Glory” down on my rear end. Talking about Old Glory, I could see the stars and feel the stripes! And now, once again, that old belt performed the second of the two things which belts do best. And then, a third whack!

 

Just as my dad was about to give me a couple more pops for good measure, I turned my head to the right, and exclaimed,

 

“That don’t hurt!”

 

Daddy paused in mid swing.

 

“What did you say?”

 

I repeated myself.

 

“I said ‘That don’t hurt!’”

 

Suddenly, that old black leather belt fell from my father’s hand, and lay crumpled on my bedroom floor. Without another word, my father turned, and walked away.

Afterward

 

I don’t recall a second infraction (well, let me retract that statement), but I don’t recall a second, third or fourth “whoopin” with that thick black strip of cow hide.

 

I never did give my father the satisfaction of saying,

 

“Well, honestly, in retrospect those three licks hurt ‘like you know what,’ daddy!”

 

But based on his inability to repeat that particular method of discipline, it was obvious it hurt him more than it hurt me.

by William McDonald, PhD

Friday, March 18, 2022

THINGS THAT WON'T BE IN HEAVEN

3888

Like most Christians I have often considered the benefits of heaven, and the myriad of wonderful things of which it will be composed. And while I don’t think I’ve ever heard a sermon on the subject, scripture speaks to a few things which will not be present in that marvelous place.

The Unrighteous

God sent His Son Jesus Christ to the earth in order to bear witness to the existence of His Heavenly Father, and to die for the sins of the unrighteous.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16)

“Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God?” (1st Corinthians 6:9)

There are any number of scriptures which assure us that only believers will be permitted within the confines of heaven.

Sin

Scripture speaks of God’s awareness of wrong doing, and contains countless admonitions against such behavior.

“For the wages of sin is death…” (Romans 6:23)

Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil,

And canst not look on iniquity.” (Habakkuk 1:13)

 

“I will make with them an everlasting covenant, that I will not turn away from doing good to them. And I will put the fear of me in their hearts; that they may not turn from me.” (Jeremiah 32:40)

We are assured that no sin or iniquity will be tolerated in heaven, and that those who enter in are of one mind and one spirit in their love for the King of kings and Lord of lords.

 

Tears

God knows we endure many circumstances in this life which bring us to tears, and that we have more than enough about which to grieve.

He will wipe every tear from their eyes.” (Rev. 21:4)

The promise of a heavenly home, devoid of anything which brings tears to our eyes, is a joyful promise, indeed.

Hunger & Thirst

Is there anything more sad and compelling than a photograph of a malnourished child? It is a heart-rending sight.

Never again will they hunger;
 never again will they thirst
.”
(Rev. 7:16)

Thank God for a place where hunger and thirst will be vanquished forevermore.

Heat

Every one of us have been exposed to heat, and realize its potential consequences.

The sun will not beat down on them,
 nor any scorching heat
.” (Rev. 7:16)

The thermostat of heaven will be set at the perfect temperature.

Hurtful Memories

Unless we have sustained an unexpected blow on the head, and developed amnesia, we are all subject to hurtful memories.

“For behold, I create new heavens and a new earth. And the former things will not be remembered or come to mind.” (Isaiah 65:17)

Thankfully, at the time of our passing we will joyfully surrender any remembrance of the things which once brought us pain.

Disease

We have all known someone who contracted cancer or some other life-threatening disease, and in some cases have succumbed to it.

So also is the resurrection of the dead. It is sown in corruption; it is raised in incorruption:

It is sown in dishonor. It is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power.” (1st Cor. 15:42-43)

Neither colds nor cancer will be permitted in our eternal home.

Pain

Life is full of emotional and physical pain.

There will be no mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Rev. 21:4)

“For I reckon the suffering of this present time isn’t worthy to be compared to the glory that will be revealed in us.” (Romans 8:18)

Those catalysts which promote emotional and physiological pain will be absent in heaven.

Health Insurance

Even as I write these words our congress is considering the crucial issue of health insurance.

"For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, works for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." (2nd Cor. 4:17)

Since there will be neither sickness nor pain in heaven, health insurance applications, physicians, and emergency rooms will not be found there.

Death

Each of us have been exposed to the acute pain which accompanies the death of a friend or loved one.

“There will be no more death.” (Rev. 21:4)

Jesus gave His life to redeem His fallen creation, and will reward us with eternal life; which He purchased with His own blood.

Funerals

With the passing of years we are plagued by a growing accumulation of funeral services.

“It is appointed unto man once to die…” (Hebrews 9:27)

Death will wrap itself in the garments of Life, and Despair will be cloaked in Victory.

(and “one more for the road.”)

Mosquitoes

We have all wondered why mosquitoes were invented in the first place.

“If we walk in the light as He is in the light we have fellowship one with another and the blood of Jesus Christ cleanses us from all sin.” (1st John 1:7)

"Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when He appears, we shall be like Him…” (1st John 3:2)

Note: Since Jesus shed, as we believe, every ounce of His blood on the cross, we can assume that His gloried body is flesh and bone. Since we will be like Him we can assume our glorified body will also be comprised of flesh and bone. As glorified human beings mosquitoes would, therefore, find nothing desirable about us.

 

And thus, we can be sure that the foregoing things shall never be found in heaven.

by William McDonald, PhD

Monday, March 14, 2022

TWO PEOPLE DRIVING ONE CAR

 3887

It was mid-afternoon, and Jean and I were on our way home from church, (or some other place long since forgotten.) She was driving our old green 1980 something Oldsmobile; a somewhat larger and heavier vehicle than one generally sees on the road today. We were traveling at 50 MPH, or more, and as we neared an intersecting road on our right, which was marked with a stop sign, a small blue car pulled into our pathway.

I could plainly see a man and woman in the front seat, and a little boy and girl in the back seat. I will never forget those precious little human beings as they sat there, eyes wide open, peering helplessly out the window, as our car swiftly approached them.  Less than 50 feet separated our two vehicles, and Jean proceeded to lock up the brakes. An accident was inevitable. As with so many traumatic events, time seemed to slow down. (Interestingly enough, I have read that this syndrome occurs because the brain is processing more information than usual in a miniscule amount of time.)

It was obvious that my wife had every intention of plowing headlong into the smaller car, (and no doubt, all the occupants of that vehicle would have been seriously injured or killed.) And though we were driving a much larger automobile, we also would not have been spared, since foolishly we weren’t wearing our seatbelts.

Suddenly, I just KNEW what I had to do.

I reached over with my left hand, took the steering wheel from Jean, and began steering it in a direction that would take us around the rear of the small vehicle. Amazingly, we cleared the back bumper of the little car by a foot. Both my wife and I found ourselves leaning hard in the direction of our passenger window. (As a result of that event, I can easily relate to the G-forces astronauts endure as they reach maximum acceleration.)

But our wild ride was only beginning. Our ungainly old car began a 180 degree slide. Suddenly, the back end was where the front end was just seconds before. Now we were sliding backwards. As the car lost momentum, we neared a wooden fence to our left which paralleled the side of a house. We finally slid to a stop in a grassy area, a few feet from the fence, very shaken, but not a scratch on either of us. 

As we ended our unexpected journey, I saw the little car as it turned left into the opposite lane of the four lane highway. The man didn’t even have the courtesy to stop and inquire about our well-being. The decent thing to have done, the only thing to have done, would have been to stop, especially since he had pulled in front of us, and caused a near fatal accident.

However, while this traumatic event was in the process of happening to us, another car pulled up to the stop sign. Having seen the spectacle falling together around him, I have no doubt that the driver watched in awe. The motorist asked if we were okay, and after we assured him we were, he drove away.

Only God. Only God. Nothing less than an abject miracle. The two occupants of our car and the four occupants of the other car might easily have died that day. And the spot which Jean fills in the audience tonight would be vacant, or filled by another, and I would be just as invisible now, and you would not be listening to the sound of my voice, nor been exposed to my obvious charm, or handsome face.

And I have no doubt He gave His angels charge over us that day, and when we needed a miracle, well, He gave us one. And I have no doubt, any one of you could step behind this podium and share something equally wonderful and amazing that our Lord has done in your own lives.

by William McDonald, PhD

MY OLD BLACK MAMA

 


3886

Odd, the things one thinks about on New Year’s Day.

 

I delivered UPS packages for twenty years, and retired from that outfit almost twenty years hence. I can only imagine the number of stops and packages with which I contended during the course of those two decades.

 

Sometime in the mid to late eighties, and throughout the next few years I delivered packages to metropolitan Winter Haven; with a daily repertoire which included a roughly equal number of businesses and residential homes.

 

At that time there were six or eight formerly segregated black domiciles in the general environs of First Street, South. I use the term “formerly,” since, as time progressed, a large number of restaurants, car dealers and doctor’s offices “went up” in the area.

 

From time to time I pulled up to 1500 Post Avenue, SE, and the house of “Miss Josephine Freeman,” stepped off the bottom step of my trusty, brown package car, (as it was known) walked a few steps to the front door of the little lady’s humble abode, and rang the bell. (At that time, we were required to elicit a signature, rather than dropping the parcel by the door, as is common today).

 

And without fail, the 80ish Miss Freeman would quickly answer the door, greet me with that inimitable, toothy grin I so well recall, and proceed to sign my delivery pad.

 

And as I turned to leave, she would always exclaim,

 

“Don’t forget your old black Mama,”

 

(or)

 

“Your old black Mama appreciates you stopping by, son.”

 

(or)

 

“Please come back and see your old black Mama again.”

 

And though our interaction was limited to the few brief moments we shared a few times a year, I have thought of her more in the decades which followed, than any of those other business people and private residents to whom I delivered packages on a more frequent basis.

 

Perhaps it was her sincerity, her radiant smile, or merely the unilateral title she assigned herself.

 

But strangely enough, I miss her, and wish, somehow, I had experienced the opportunity to know and interact with her on a more personable basis.

 

Of course, several decades have now passed, and she has long since gone on to her reward.

 

… I miss my old black Mama.

 by William McDonald, PhD