While visiting my mother in law recently, I had the pleasure of taking her and two of her girlfriends to lunch. What fun! My mother in law has been Bubba all her adult life as her oldest son apparently could not say mother and it would somehow come out Bubba … or so the story goes. Bubba is 94 years young and in pretty good health with the exception of her hearing and some forgetfulness. Her best friend, Miss Rhea is 85 … her family calls her Noni. And then there’s Miss Eleanor and she informed me she is the baby of the group at 74 years of age.

As I pulled up to Noni’s house, Mr Leamon was helping her down the steps of their home with her rolling walker, and Miss Eleanor in tow. Miss Eleanor, I was told, had recently recovered from a broken ankle and being the ” Safety Police ” – a name I received due to my nursing training – I immediately noticed her pant legs were dragging the ground by about three inches. Red flag! Gotta watch her closely. Sure don’t want her to end up with another broken ankle, especially on my watch.

We got loaded up with Bubba on the front seat and Miss Eleanor and Noni on the back seat. Didn’t take me long to realize it was gonna be a long ride. Right away Noni starts telling cute stories. Miss Eleanor pipes in and they are just a chattering away. Bubba, sitting on the front seat, cannot hear a word they are saying and it’s about to drive her crazy. I was doing my best to interpret and pay attention to my driving.

The plan was to go to Cracker Barrel where they could get a home cooked meal and do a little shopping but the ” youngster ” in the back seat said she just didn’t think that was such a hot idea. Anyway, after much discussion, they determined Danver’s was the best choice. They said I wouldn’t have to cross traffic, no merchandise to beware of and navigate with a walker and they sure had some good soups and a great salad bar at Danver’s (I’m guessing they were watching their girlish figures). So amidst all the chatter and trying to focus on traffic, I managed to ask my GPS to re-route to Danver’s.

Upon arrival we were not able to find a handicapped parking spot but they determined they thought they could manage. So here we are … me trying to get Noni’s walker out of the trunk, while Miss Eleanor, with dragging pant legs, helping Bubba out of the front seat. (Bubba has taken one too many tumbles recently and I don’t mean in gymnastics class … more like walking around in her yard picking up yard trash). But we made it inside and … oh my! So many decisions trying to order only to settle on the very menu they had discussed in the car … soup and salad.

I sat quietly listening to them during our meal and giggling on the inside. Noni piped up and asked me about my fingernails. I had just gotten a French manicure and it was very intriguing to them that the tips of my nails were white. “How do they do that? one of them asked. The “baby” says, “It’s paint” … Bubba says, “What did she say?” “Paint! It’s paint!”, said the “baby”. Bubba says, “She’s gonna faint?! Oh Lordy!” “No!” says Miss Eleanor.. “her nails are painted” Bubba: “I know! But she says she’s gonna faint!” Lawdy be … I was dying laughing but trying to hide it lest they think I was making fun of them. I really wanted to say … yep, the whipper snapper at the table with the white tipped fingernails definitely was gonna faint … from the inability to breathe since I was having to stifle my giggles. Well, no need to spend another moment discussing all the funnies of lunch but I will suffice it to say… it was the most fun I’d had in a while.

We loaded up and headed to see their dear friend, Miss Dilma, at the Methodist Hospice center, who apparently has ovarian cancer. Fortunately, I was able to get all three “girls” out of the car without incident. We signed in at the front desk and then walked for what seemed like an eternity and finally found Miss Dilma sitting up in a chair as we walked in. Miss Dilma was looking pretty as a picture with her lipstick and bright pink rouge perfectly placed. Across her lap was a huge white board, must have been two feet by three feet in size. She was putting together a puzzle and I bet that puzzle had a thousand tiny pieces. I feel sure my eyes are better than someone her age so I don’t know how in the world she could see to put that puzzle together. She told me she had put ten or twelve together in the five months since she had been in Hospice care and that it takes her about three weeks to do one. And she proudly announced she had completed one that her daughter was gonna have glued on a board to hang in her room after she passed away.

Bubba pulled up a chair to sit down. Miss Eleanor sat down. Miss Eleanor got a look from Bubba. Too funny. Miss Eleanor got up and Bubba sat down while me, Noni and Miss Eleanor found the couch to take a seat. And the conversation begins …

Miss Dilma: How is the preacher? Noni: Oh, he gave the best sermon ever on Easter Sunday! Bubba: What did she say? Miss Eleanor: She’s talking about the preacher. Bubba: What about the picture? Miss Eleanor: THE PREACHER! (I can hardly hold it together!) Noni: Yep, there’s a sign up sheet to get your picture taken for the church directory. Bubba: What about the preacher? Noni: One of the best we’ve ever had! Bubba: I love the preacher. When are we supposed to get our picture taken? And so the conversation went … the entire thirty minute visit. I just sat quietly listening with amusement.

Well … I could belabor the story and even take poetic license to embellish it but you can see what fun it was to take three elderly ladies to lunch and to visit their dear friend who was living out her last days with a smile on her face and not complaining, putting puzzles together and espousing her love for God, the preacher and her family and friends.

We arrived back at Noni’s with the help of the two youngsters in the back seat. Nothing wrong with their hearing nor their memory. I didn’t have to use my GPS once. When I helped them out of the car, Noni kissed my cheek and told me I was a dear to put up with her and her limited mobility with the walker. I looked her in the eyes and said, “Noni, have you forgotten I am a nurse? This is what I’ve done all my life and it was not only a pleasure to spend my day with you but also my joy and honor.” Miss Eleanor hugged me and told me I was sweet and pretty. Well now, a girl could get used to hearing such kind words but to be honest I was kinda embarrassed. I really didn’t need anything more than a thank you.

Taking those ladies to lunch and to see their friend did me as much good as it did them. I thought about what I might be like in my elder years. I suspect I’ll be much like Noni with mobility problems since I already have pretty significant arthritis that I can’t go one day without my Voltaren. But would I be hard of hearing and not realize the unintentional, yet comical things I’d say and yet sad to not feel a part of the conversation which is so very important to Bubba and I know will be for me too? Will I be like Miss Eleanor mothering all my friends helping them in and out of cars and restaurants and Hospice centers and patiently interpreting conversation? Or will I be the one dying in the Hospice center praying for visitors? Only time will tell should I be given many more years in this earthly body.

That afternoon, after returning home to Bubba’s house, we were sitting side by side on her sofa discussing the days activities and my cell phone rang. It was Bubba’s son calling to see how the day had gone. And this was my reply … “I felt like I was driving around three hard of hearing teenagers!” He got a big chuckle out of that. The drive to and from Memphis brought back memories of me driving around a car full of chattering, gossiping teenage cheerleaders when my girls were growing up and yep, even they had trouble hearing as 99.3 FM blared Madonna’s “Like A Prayer”, only thing is I don’t much think there was one religious thing about Madonna’s song. But these three ladies that have blessed this world with their years of wisdom and love for others and service to their families and church … an answered prayer for me that day. To God be the Glory!

My beautiful, precious mother-in-law, Helen Doris Moore (Bubba)