A Life Well-Lived

My wife and I purchased our current home in central Florida a full 25 years ago, and were privileged to live next to a lovely Christian couple by the names of Earl & Faye Ude. (Pronounced U-d). (I know, I’ve never heard that particular name either).

I cannot say we knew Earl & Faye very well, and I only remember visiting in their home a couple of times. And once or twice, Ms. Ude dropped by our house for a cup of coffee, or to inquire about one thing or another, and there was the time Earl clandestinely stole over, knocked on our door, and notified my wife that he was having a Mother’s Day gift for Faye delivered to our house for safe keeping. For no particular reason, I suppose, I also recall a time when I strapped the old leash on my old dog, Buddy, and having walked a hundred yards towards our neighborhood dog path, Faye brought her vehicle to a halt next to me. For the life of me I cannot tell you the jest of our conversation. We may have talked about the nice (or impending bad) weather, or the price of eggs in China. The topic of our short dialogue is unimportant now. What was and continues to hold any importance was the neighborly comradery we shared that day, and (I like to think) that each of us were in some small way blessed and edified by the other.

And my wife just reminded me of the occasion when she took her first nursing position at a local hospital, and the stress related to the job. It seems Jean happened to see Faye watering flowers, (or doing some other “yardly” activity) and decided to confide the situation to her.

With tears coursing down her cheeks, my wife explained how anxious she had been, and wondered aloud whether she would be up to the job. After patiently listening to Jean’s story, Faye expressed a few choice, and empathetic words, hugged her, and said that perhaps they could meet for lunch sometime. (Unfortunately, the two never found the opportunity to do so.)

The Ude’s were a full twenty-five years older than my wife, and I, and it occurred to me that one or both of them would almost certainly “precede” us. And as scripture is so prone to remind us, “it came to pass.” Earl went on to his reward, and met the Master of his soul a full twelve years ago, and Faye continued to live in the marital home for several years.

As time wore on, Mrs. Ude began to display the effects of her age. She didn’t stand quite as straight as she once had, and her steps slowed a bit. It seemed all too obvious that she would soon need some sort of assistance that living alone would not afford. Ultimately, she moved to Indiana to live with her daughter. As a result, her home was left empty. (And as any casual observer of life on earth can attest, homes, like people, don’t do all that well when they are empty).

As fate would have it, our daughter and her husband were experiencing some marital issues about this time, and we inquired whether it might be possible for her to rent the Ude’s now-vacant home. Faye seemed to feel good about this proposition, and the deed was done.

Well, almost, but not quite… (They say “almost” is only good enough in hand grenades and nuclear war, and so it was equally true in this case).

For you see, Mrs. Ude left “a whole lotta” stuff behind.

As a result, Faye was kind enough to allow my wife, daughter and I, over the course of six weeks, to pack up all that “whole lotta” stuff, and subsequently transport it to a local storage unit for safe keeping. (Amazing how much really good and memorable stuff one can accumulate in nine decades of life). By the time we finished packing, we had accumulated well over 200 boxes of everything conceivable to mankind. (And it occurs to me to mention, in consideration of Ms. Ude’s relatives and descendants, she WAS NOT a hoarder, and she WAS a good housekeeper). She just simply owned some really worthwhile and/or memorable things which she deemed valuable, and with which she had been unable to part.

Packing someone else’s things, (whether they are, or aren’t still living) is a unique experience. One is suddenly provided an entre into a life which years of casual “neighborlyness” could never afford. What has, over the course of time, been interesting, impactful and elemental to their existence? My friends, it will be there. It simply can’t help but be there.

A lifetime of dreams and memories and “poignantcies” and treasures filled my dear old neighbor’s closets and book shelves and cedar chests. Earl was a self-styled creator of jewelry, and jars of gemstones, such as amethysts and quartz, lined the shelves of a small workshop. Dozens of old tools of every conceivable variety hung from hooks on his garage wall. (It seemed he might have only just stepped away for a moment; with the expectation that he would return shortly). No doubt, Faye could not have imagined parting with these precious remnants of a man she had loved for over half a century.

And there were the books. Titles such as “Their Finest Hour” (by Winston Churchill, a very distant cousin of mine, I am pleased to say), “The Kennedy Years,” “Fads, Follies & Delusions of The American People,” and “Trumpets and Other Wind Instruments.”

Remembrances. Photos of the trips the couple made together. A dinner napkin salvaged from their 10^th anniversary party. A congratulatory note from a pastor for Faye’s service to the elder board. An old greeting card from a middle-aged lady; which contained copious words of appreciation and admiration for Faye’s impact on her young life as a high school student. A “Jesus and the Woman at the Well” sculpture she once presented to her local church, and since returned to the care of her family.

Musical instruments too large to fit in a box, and too precious to reside in a storage unit. An old organ. A grand piano.

Pictures on the wall. The kind common to any kitchen. Some common only to them who have placed their faith in God.

Ultimately, Mrs. Ude succumbed to Providence, and that ethereal journey which awaits each of us, and was reunited with her dear husband, Earl

There is a poignant scene in the movie, “Dead Poet’s Society” in which the character, a boy’s school teacher portrayed by Robin Williams, leads his class down to the lobby of their academic institution. As the class gathers around the trophy cases, “Mr. Keating” points out several ancient photographs of their athletic colleagues of yesteryear.

“Look at the gleam in those young eyes. Notice their enthusiasm and zest for life. Reflect on their myriad of physical feats of prowess on the football field and track. Can you hear them? Lean closer, me boys.”

And as the young men smile, and humor their teacher by moving a foot closer, and bending their ears towards the trophy case, Mr. Keating whispers,

“Carpe Diem. Carpe, Diem. Seize the day. What you have to do, do it now! Don’t wait! Take advantage of every new day. Every new opportunity.”

“For you see, my boys, these young men who stare back at you with those vibrant eyes, and compelling goals, who when these photographs were snapped had their whole lives before them

… are now growing daffodils.”

It was a privilege, for me, to carefully, one by one, pack away those remnants of lives well-lived into those non-descript cardboard boxes. And make no mistake, this was for me what amounted to a final solemn act of respect rendered to my aged neighbors.

When I decided to write this particular daily blog, it occurred to me to contact Ms. Ude’s daughters, Gini and Pam, and invite them to provide some input which I, otherwise, might not have, and which information might possibly add some insight to both myself, as well as my readers.

I was not disappointed.

The ultimate disillusionment and profound regret of a life not-so-well-lived.

The exquisite value and extraordinary impact of a life well-lived.

Hers was of the second variety.

Faye Nyhle Hunter played trumpet in high school and, (this is good) won the national high school championship award in that musical discipline. She earned a Bachelors in Music Education, and English at the University of Miami, and went on to conduct band and teach English at her high school alma mater. She and her husband, Earl, were active in the Disciples of Christ Church, and assisted in planting University Christian Church in South Miami. She worked at the University of Miami in campus ministry, and was a lifelong member of Sigma Alpha Iota, (Women’s Honorary Music Society).

I think if the foregoing is all my (subsequent) neighbor ever achieved, and all the impact she ever exercised, well, most of us would agree, “this was a life well-lived.”

However, Faye Ude went on to lead Vacation Bible Schools, youth groups, and vocal and hand bell choirs in her local church. She was a Girl Scout troop leader, and coordinated the sewing of uniforms for high school majorettes; of which her daughters were members.

Her end was in no sense less than her beginning. As Mr. Ude once duely informed my wife,

…“Faye is a very important person in our church.”

For you see, as she moved into her golden years she served as an Elder in her beloved Christian Church.

Carpe Diem. Seize the day.

I think my dear neighbor took that ancient admonition seriously.

I think she was all too aware of God’s calling on her life, and the needs of those whom her Savior set in her pathway. I believe Providence chose her to purposely and consistently mentor, lead, role model and encourage a generation which would follow in her footsteps, and continue to finish that which she had so well begun.

And it occurs to me that so much like those nine decades of cards, letters, photographs and momento’s, (which I was afforded the privilege of packing away) my friend’s foregoing achievements attest to more than just things one can see and touch, or impressive biographies people can read.

We stand on the shoulders of giants; people not so different from you or me who, at one time of the other, made a decision to make a difference in their world. To patiently be about the Father’s business, and to make a (perhaps) more invisible, yet more tangible imprint on lives; than anything a momento or biography could hope to reveal.

(And after all, we can never hope to take possessions or platitudes with us when we leave here, but rather, the inestimable value of our influence over them whom God has set in our pathway).

Several years ago I was exposed to a particular maxim which was flashed on the screen at a high school graduation. As a counselor, and director/trainer of a formal training/mentoring program designed for young adults preparing for helping vocations and ministries, that phrase has become my motto.

“My students are living messages to a time that I will never see.”

I believe Faye Nyhle Hunter Ude possessed a similar agenda, that she stayed the course, and that as she stepped across that heavenly threshold the most marvelous words of all the ages were spoken in her presence

…“Well done.”

 

By William McDonald, PhD