Ah poor Terri, we hardly knew ye

It has only been 3 weeks since our lives have been consumed with the condition of this young woman and the legal and moral issues revolving around her. The question of Authority has been the prominent theme throughout. Should her husband or her parents be able to decide her fate? Are the courts, the legislature, the governor, or the president able to make the decision. The president can take us to war and the governor can pardon the convicted murderer but neither can save a helpless lady from certain death. The congress of the most powerful nation in the world took its best shot and seemed helpless to accomplish what even a small child should be able to do – hand a cup of water to a thirsty soul. They made their effort, took a beating and scampered back to relative safety.

Authority has been questioned and the separation of powers in the U.S. constitution has been in focus while ordinary citizens debated what the outcome should and would be. The authority question was answered in the end. The courts had the authority to make the decision and they made it stand up. The court trumped the executive and legislative branches by issuing the injunction which forbade the removal of Terri from the hospice which prevented the tube from being reinserted. It went to the Supreme court who in the end confirmed the lower courts by refusing to hear this case.

The decision to pull the plug rested in an individual whose motives in the case were easy to question and difficult to understand. Michael Schiavo said that he was following Terri’s wishes. Why was Michael questioned? Well, it had been 15 years since Terri’s condition began. Michael had moved on with his life. He had a common law wife and two children. He hadn’t said anything about Terri’s wish to die for the first seven years. Now he said this was Terri’s desire and the Schindlers were just standing in Terri’s way. The court could find no reason not to believe Michael and gave him the authority to decide.

Now we come to the issue within the authority theme - the right to live or die. For years America has been torn by the right to live issue. Mothers have been given the authority to decide whether the baby they carry in their womb will see the light of day. Millions of mothers have chosen a convenient route and allowed the life of their baby to be taken. Many of those mothers have regretted that decision.

The Schiavo case now moves us to a new arena of life and death. The decision to terminate the life of another who is not in your womb. Quality of life now becomes the issue. Is the quality of life in that person worth allowing? Should that life be terminated by the parent or child or spouse because we don’t believe that the quality of that life is worth preserving that life. Michael Schiavo insists that Terri did not want to live in the condition she was in. The final question is should Terri have the final say? Should any individual have the right to decide when to live and when to die? Should all laws restricting suicide be stricken from the books?

A judge gave the authority to decide to Michael and he decided death. Three thousand years ago a judge rendered another decision involving life and death. Two mothers came to Solomon and both claimed to be the mother of the one baby. Solomon said to bring him a sword and cut the baby in half and give half to each mother. One of the women was satisfied with this verdict. The other woman pleaded with Solomon to give the baby whole to the other woman. Solomon wisely understood that the woman who respected the life of the child was the true mother.

Oh that we would have judges today who are as wise as Solomon. Oh that those who are willing to love and care for others would be given the responsibility to make the decision for the weak and infirm. Terri is now gone but the question of life and death remains.

2004 Summary

Dear Friends and Family,
I have taken it upon myself to write this the ‘Walker After Christmas letter’. Mommy was just asking me how one goes about writing an interesting Christmas letter, and I replied by saying that this does not have to be interesting because it is not a Christmas letter. It is an ‘after’ Christmas letter. For making such a comment I quite naturally was put in charge of writing this letter.

I think I will start off by telling you that we all had a wonderful Christmas. On a serious note, Grandma Walker went home to be with the Lord on Dec. 20th. Most people say that it is difficult to lose a loved one during the Christmas season, but as daddy pointed out, for us it was a blessing to know she spent Christmas with the Lord. Paul and I were home when it happened and Danielle was able to be here for the memorial service. We will miss her, mommy probably most of all when I go back to school and she does not have anyone asking her for crackers. We all know that she is happier now. We are all thankful that she never had to spend time in a nursing home. The Lord took her home as soon as she became too difficult for Mom and Dad to care for.

Erin, though she spent Christmas in Romania, cheered us all up by sending something through friends at church for each of the twelve days of Christmas. That mind of hers is something else to come up with such an idea. It was so nice. Please keep her in your prayers as she teaches in the Bible college and works in the village church. She will be coming home in June to continue the summer masters program that she is currently working on.

Allyson and Kevin are now the proud parents of the cutest little boy in the world - Caleb Elijah Wilkins. Consequently I am the aunt of the cutest little boy in the world. If you are unfortunate enough as to not have seen a picture of this adorable blue eyed rosy cheeked baby, you can request a photo I am sure that any Walker would be happy to e-mail it to you. On Christmas day we all sat around and watched Caleb whack a piece of wrapping paper on the floor. Not even Paul could steal the show from such a cute stare that sucked on ribbons and crumpled up paper.

Danielle has spread her little wings and flown to South Carolina, many of you probably still get her e-mail updates. She is working as hard as ever. Not surprisingly she already has the nick name of a workaholic in Charleston. She tried to explain to me that there was no foundation to her having such a title, but please dear reader, can you imagine Danielle not deserving the title of workaholic? Lately she splurged and bought herself some tennis shoes maybe she will finish becoming super woman by becoming athletic just like she is always threatening.

Now I must say something about myself because I was simply berated last year about cutting myself out of our after Christmas letter. Hmmm… Praise the Lord that I finished one and a half years of college. I enjoy PCC very much. It is a nice atmosphere with excellent professors. Since I am the only child at home right now, I have decided to see how many ugly paintings I can finish before heading back to school. This next semester will be my most difficult yet. I will be working on campus again, but not in housekeeping.

Mom and I drove Paul back to school two days ago and he already sounded tired on the phone this morning. He is taking his Humvee drivers test today. I have no idea how hard or easy that may be, but when they do the training and take the test the same day it can’t be too hard. Paul has become the best uncle ever. Definitely he is the best that Caleb has from the Walker side. The first day he was back on Christmas vacation, he taught Caleb how to crawl and he has been crawling ever since.

Mom and Daddy are keeping busy putting firewood on and keeping the house warm. Daddy decided to get himself a snow blower this year, and now he knows the sheer joy of having ice and gravel blow into his face when the thermometer says 4 degrees. We all praise the Lord for the end of a wonderful year and the beginning of a new one. We have not forgotten any one of you and I hope you have not forgotten us,

Thinking of you all,
Charity for The Walkers

The Last Triplet

On the 17th day of December 1921 Mary Evelyn Dale was born. She was a triplet but her two sisters did not survive the first day. Mom was told that at first the 3 girls were all heard crying then only two voices could be heard and then just one. There was a scar on mom’s knee that she would proudly show and explain that a hot water bottle leaked on her in the crib and made her cry which may have helped keep her alive. She was not quite two pounds at birth. There is a sermon in her size and realizing what the world treats as disposable and calls a fetus rather than a child. Her mother’s wedding ring could fit around her wrist. I can’t vouch for the accuracy but she told this story as long as I can remember. Her mother had given birth to 7 children all told. Mom was the only one to live past the age of four. Mom was a survivor.

Her father deserted her and her mother while mom was still quite small. He was a deacon in a Baptist church but proved to be unfaithful. Those were the days when divorce was unpopular. There is a sermon in that too but we won’t preach it now. Mom was raised as an only child and I am sure there were times she was lonely. She was a latchkey kid before the term even existed.

Mom knew no siblings but she did have a special friend. They became friends at the age of three and never forgot about one another. Aunt Marley as my brother and I called this friend was always dear to her. Even in the first week of this December mom was talking about getting together with Marley – having her come and visit us in New Hampshire. Mom kept up a correspondence with Mare Ruth as she called her. Mom was a good correspondent. She kept writing letters even though many were returned by the post office as not being able to read the address. I have talked with a number of people who said they enjoyed getting moms letters but had no idea what they were saying.

Mom was very close to her mother as you can imagine. Then one day a young man came along who was trying to spoil everything. His name was Wendell Walker and he drove the city bus. One day mom was waiting at the bus stop with another fellow and Wendell passed them by making them walk into town. He liked this dark haired young lady and was up for the competition. Grandma Dale was not excited about her daughter getting married and leaving her (perhaps because of her own experience in marriage) but Wendell was smitten with her daughter and if there was one characteristic that dad had it was faithfulness. Wendell and Evelyn tied the knot on September 7, 1947. Believe you me that knot was very secure. He was 31 and she was 25 and theirs was a marriage that lasted a few months past 50 years when dad passed away on Dec 27th, 1997.

They didn’t have a lot of hobbies or outside interests. They didn’t play golf or join the bridge club. They were simple people. They were homebodies. From my earliest remembrances they took us to church. I remember going into the kitchen at the age of 5 where Grandma Dale was and she taught me the first Bible verse I ever learned while she was cooking. John 3:16. Mom served in the church in Training Union which was like evening Sunday school and jet cadets – whatever that was. I was about seven when one evening in Training Union I must have misbehaved and had to be taken outside for some counseling. There my mother and another lady explained that I was misbehaving because of sin in my heart and I needed to confess and repent of my sin. I did so with the simple faith of a child and asked Jesus to come into my heart.

We moved to California where dad could find work. Neither mom nor dad was what the world would call talented but they did have their gifts. The main characteristic I can remember was exhortation or perhaps more simply put – encouragement. They believed my brother and I could do almost anything. They believed so much that we began to believe it too no matter what the facts might say. They loved us and we had no doubts about it. They were also very proud of their Grandchildren.

After Dad died Mom and I traveled to the funeral in Georgia. The next day, as God would have it, I had a job interview in South Carolina. The plan was for me to drop mom off with relatives living in South Carolina while I drove on to the interview. It didn’t work out that way as I missed the connection with the relatives and drove mom to where the interview was. It was a warm sunny day so I thought I could leave her in the car while I went in. The folks I was to meet came out to the car and greeted us and walked us inside. No problem I thought. Mom can wait in another room. Nothing seemed to be working out that way as mom came into the room and sat at one end of the table while I was questioned by three gentlemen at the other end. Mom was hard of hearing and didn’t quite understand what was going on down at the other end but she felt she needed to share what was on her heart. Every few minutes she would chime in with, ‘my son is the finest young man you would ever want to know.’ Or, ‘he has a wonderful family. They play and sing all day long. His children are just darling and never fight or argue.’ Well she was absolutely right but I didn’t get the job.

Dad died in 1997 and mom came to live with us. These were the teenage years for our family and you can imagine our plate was full. There was often a church program, a piano recital, a baseball game, or a homeschool program to go to. Grandma loved going as we drug her from pillar to post. She didn’t slow us down only made us stronger.

Our family would have prayer together each day as each one took part. When it came to Grandma’s turn she without fail would thank the Lord for her sons, their wives, and her eight grandchildren.

Mom at times could irritate us. She repeated her stories hundreds maybe even thousands of times. Some of her stories were not pleasant. Some were downright embarrassing.

Mom also had character. She could be determined. You could call it stubbornness. I once told Jeannette, ‘I don’t know where she gets this stubbornness from.’ She simply replied, ‘no but I know who she gave it to.’

I want to publicly thank Jeannette for taking the brunt of the care. Jeannette, you have been God’s greatest blessing to me and I thank you for the way you have always sacrificed your own needs for your family and so readily included Grandma in our home. The kids also have made individual sacrifices for grandma's care. Their actions and attitudes showed that grandmas praise for them was not based on imagination but on truth. I would also like to thank the church family for taking the time to speak to mom on numerous occasions though she was hard to communicate with.

One of the things we noticed about grandma was that she never really complained. When we moved to New Hampshire our only bedrooms were on the second floor. It got more and more difficult for Grandma to climb the stairs but she never said a word about it. Sometimes she would climb up to her bedroom just to get a pencil to write a letter with. She didn’t like snow or ice but never said so unless we asked her.

Grandma wasn’t the most talented person but she taught me life’s most important lessons.

Gratefulness: When I was a child she taught me the magic words please and thank you. Right up to the end she was thanking our family for having her stay with us. It wasn’t necessary but she continued to teach me to be thankful for God and others.

Encouragement: I always believed I could win the battle because she believed in me. She gave me a reason to keep going when the course seemed to just go uphill.

Faithfulness: The last Sunday she was home we decided she wasn’t well enough to go to church. I stayed home with her. She was in her wheel chair and looked up at me and asked what day it was. I told her it was Sunday and she immediately looked at her closet to find a dress to wear. I told her, ‘no mom you are not feeling well enough to go to church. Not this morning.’ She could not disguise the disappointment in her eyes.

When we did take her to the hospital she seemed to be at rest. It was a peaceful slumber. The last week at home she had been having small seizures though we did not recognize them as such. She had a hearty appetite up until the day before she went to the hospital.

She was in the hospital for her 83rd birthday. Then in the 1st hour of the 20th of December the last triplet went home to join her mother and her siblings.

They weren’t the only ones waiting. The bus driver was waiting for her this time and someone else. The lamb of God who tenderly cares for His sheep. The Lord Jesus is the one we praise and proclaim this day. Nothing can darken the celebration of Jesus coming into the world as a baby born of a virgin and cradled in a manger.

It has often been said that December is a hard month to lose a loved one. I can only say I have loved to sing the carols which proclaim the messiah’s birth and when I heard the Hallelujah chorus sang last week. The tears in my eyes were of joy and peace.

Thank you for your concern and support for mom.