Turning 50 -- 61 Days To Go -- Mama's Friends

The last friend of Mama's is one who stands alone. While she and Mama were in Bible study together, it was not the larger group that defined their friendship, but the special personal relationship they shared with one another. I certainly have not "covered" all of Mama's friends, and have failed to even mention many, many, many precious people who graced her life with love, joy, and generosity. But I'm hitting the highlights, and the one I have saved for "last" had a deep impact on both of our lives.

Less than 5 months ago, I moved back into the neighborhood of most Mama's friends. Some have gone on with her, and they're enjoying Celestial Seasonings now. (Ha ha! I make myself laugh!) Several live in other cities, but the majority are still right here in the small town that has been our family home since 1971. A wonderful town...the university opens the door for exposure to a variety of cultures, ideas, and worldviews that are not usually present in provincial small town America. When I was growing up, we didn't avail ourselves of much of the university scene, but it touched us, nonetheless, in the daily brush of elbows around town.


These days, television and the Internet have made the entire world more accessible, and even those in remotest hamlets can be bombarded by the larger world's ways and wonders. I lived away from this fascinating place for 13 years, and upon my return, have found that it has changed in some pretty remarkable ways. It has grown in population, and the international flavor seems to be much richer. Among houses of worship are now included a Mosque and a Buddhist temple. The eating establishments and shopping venues have multiplied, and while we are missing some of our favorites in KC (Red Robin, Carrabba's, Zone 510, Kohl's, Hobby Lobby), there are places aplenty to choose from, and franchises are near enough for a nice, day-long shopping trip.


Because of the university, the population here is fairly mobile, making it inevitable that dear friends will move away, and new ones will come in to make their own place, even temporarily. Just a couple of weeks ago, we learned that the only real friend the boys have made at our "new" church will be moving away in June so that his father can take an engineering job in Huntsville. They were heart-broken, and we said silent prayers of gratitude for the multitude of little boys in the neighborhood.


In spite of the mobility, the exposure to cultures and ideas, and the sense of other-ness that a university town affords, there is still much about small-town America, particularly southern, that flavors Starkville. For the most part, wonderfully articulate southerners still take twice as long to drawl out their dialogue as our mid-western friends. A large part of the population speaks in a way that we are having a hard time interpreting to our two little Chinese transplants. Last week, while doing business at a favorite drive-thru in Missouri, one of them remarked, "I can understand these people better than the ones in our new town." Me, too! Case in point...at the grocery store a few weeks ago, I overheard one small boy ask another, "Wachu gifa Crimma?" Took me 10 minutes to figure that one out -- I didn't have the benefit of the capitalization!


So, you ask, why all this elaborate detail about the community when my aim is to share about our phenomenal friend, Kay? Kay embodies the best of both -- the inquisitive, open mind that isn't satisfied with provincial thinking, and the appreciation of things that never change and give us a solid foundation for life. She finished Bachelor and Master's degrees in French in less time than it takes most of us to finish one degree. She stood beside her husband, a member of the School of Business faculty for years until he moved into administration, entertaining fellow faculty and state government officials with grace and ease. She is also an avid Bulldogs fan -- that would be the Mississippi State team in maroon and white, make no mistake.

She has taught the youth Sunday School class in her tiny rural church for decades, and averaged just 3 or 4 pupils during most of those years. I participated in just one of the many women's Bible studies she has led since the mid-70's, and I can truthfully say that I was challenged not only by the depth of new information she offered through exhaustive study, but by a constant call to go deeper and higher with the Lord.

For years, Mama and Kay talked on the phone at least once a day, sometimes more than that. They shared a sour-dough bread recipe (Muriel, another stalwart friend and lover of Jesus, supplied the starter) that has come to define homemade bread for many-a-household in the tri-county area. I'm quite sure the woes they faced with Mama's 4 children and Kay's 1 occupied many hours of conversation. But Mama told me on more than one occasion that she never had a friend with whom she shared her life on a deeper level. It wasn't just the amount of time they spent together or talking on the phone, it was the content of the conversation. They might cover every current event in their personal and community lives, but it was done in the context of followers of Christ who were earnestly striving to live out the Great Commission in their own backyards.

Kay and my mother touched this community with a breadth of influence that would rival any local pastor or politician. Kay's influence was through university friendships, and primarily, through the many Bible studies she taught in churches and homes, which reached across racial and denominational and gender lines. Mama's influence was through her newspaper writings (from feature to opinion), the weekly talk show she co-hosted for a number of years on the local television station, and her leadership roles in church.

I don't think they ever made a plan to influence the community, the way some of us resort to publicity campaigns and advertising in order to get our message out. They just remained engaged with their friends and neighbors, and stayed prayerfully connected to God, continually asking what their part was in His Work. Neither of them sought acclaim or fame, and both of them remained well-grounded in faith and family.

When I was a teenager, I used to ask Mama to make lists of her favorite scripture passages for me. When I became a young adult, Kay led me to books like My Friend the Bible and Into the Glory, which shaped my love for and dependence on God's Word and will. Mama wrote volumes of letters to me during my college years. Kay read books on tape to occupy me during long hours in transit during the five years I traveled alone. Mama and I read Shakespeare plays together and cut up on the piano bench, butchering easy 4 hand duets. Kay and I shared our mutual love for the worship music of the early '80's and spent hours discussing discipleship.

Even the best of friendships must weather some storms, and ours with Kay was no different. But when Mama died, there was really no one else to whom we could turn to speak at her funeral. I've tried to find a way to end this particular musing, and have decided to let Kay's words speak of their friendship. I will weep as I post it here, with warmth for the memories, with loss of that precious one, and with gratitude that Kay has made my life so very rich, long after Mama's passing. Enjoy:

"Like many of you, I knew Norma - or felt I did - before I met her because of her articles in the Mississippi United Methodist Advocate. I was fascinated by all the tales of the Williamson household and amazed that she survived, even seemed to thrive on the activities.

"I had a regular husband who went to work in the mornings and came home in the afternoons and who took care of things around the house. Norma had a husband who traveled the world preaching the Gospel, came home occasionally to whip things into shape and drive the family around while asleep at the wheel!

"I had one son who was quiet and rather bookish and at 31 still has never seen the inside of an emergency room. Norma had four non-stop adventurers who kept her on her toes and in the emergency room on a regular basis.

"I would read and wonder, fascinated by her ability to take the ordinary (to her) situations that arose and with great wit and insight, and a deep faith that was obvious even when not overtly stated, draw lessons from them to which we all could relate.

"Shortly after I began volunteering in Cecil's ministry office I met Norma in person, home from a visit to Sam (oldest son) in Hawaii where her stay had been slightly extended by her emergency surgery. It was love at first sight and thereafter we were fast friends who talked on the phone at least once a day when we were both in town, shared frequent meals, walked miles, cooked together, shared our love of music, commiserated about husbands, children, and the state of affairs of the world, studied and prayed together.

"Scripture tells us that as believers in Jesus we're all gifted in some way to help the Body of Christ function as it was intended to do. Some of us are minimally gifted; Norma was not of our group; she got more than a double dip in the gift department. In addition to her genius with words and keen insights which enabled her to write and teach so well, she was the hostess with the mostest. A really good cook, she not only fed you well but made you feel as if her home were yours. She loved to garden, from the digging and dunging all the way to the finished product, was a talented musician, a wonderful wife, mother, and friend, and always looked as if she had just stepped from a band box.

"One of the things she did well was proof-read, and one of our favorite times of the month was newsletter time. Cecil would give me the handwritten copy of his article which I would type and edit, almost always having to resort to calling Norma for help with the final product. I saved all the misspelled words and the quaint turns of phrases and we would howl with laughter as we tried to figure out exactly what it was Cecil wanted to express. We threatened more than once to send out the article in its original form just so people would understand how important we were to the ministry.

"Norma never pretended to have all the answers or have it all together. She was a fellow struggler who is not being nominated for sainthood today. But we who knew her recognize that a very ordinary but gifted lady made an extraordinary impact on those privileged to have their lives touched by hers. We don't know why one so gifted was slowly stripped of all that made her her, but we do know that she fought a good fight, she has finished her course, and is now perfected, enjoying the presence of the Savior she loved and served so faithfully.

"Today, I echo her final words in the moving tribute she wrote when her sister, Betty, died in the late '80's: 'I am glad for a faith that says life is worthwhile, good is ultimately stronger than evil, and the resurrection is real.' Her winter is past, the rain is over and gone, and the flowers and the singing of birds fill her life. If I know Norma, she's already settling into her nest, and I look forward to having her show me around when I join her in heaven.

"You, her family, have a wonderful heritage. May God bless you."

Kay included this P.S. to me when I asked for a copy of her eulogy:

"LAW - knowing I had only a few minutes to say more than could be said in many, I omitted something that came back to me as I meditated on what and how to express my love for your mom. Many years ago, when you were in the first apartment on Gillespie, you had her, me, and some others over for a pre-Christmas lunch. Norma had found a lump in her breast and was going after lunch to have it checked out, obviously somewhat concerned. As I prayed for her that morning, the Lord gave me Psalm 72:6: 'He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass, like showers that water the earth.' Now, I haven't a foggy notion how that could have said anything to her that day, but I remember discussing it with her.

"Today (and I mean no disrespect for the Messianic Psalm, here!), I sense an application to Norma: Some people are a bit heavy-handed, some of us bulldoze over others, but Norma was like a gentle spring shower who watered tender plants that could easily have been trampled underfoot by one less sensitive than she. She had hurt in enough places that she could empathize with others in many different situations and she seemed always to have a word of comfort and encouragement.

"As I write this and as I read back over her book and the articles I dug up while meditating, the word that comes to mind is 'bereft.' I'm so glad she's free from this body of death, but so conscious of the treasure that we have lost. As you work through this last stage of grief may God lead you gently and bring comfort in all those hidden, perhaps forgotten places. Love you. K"

Well, I guess I have a post-script of my own. Mama and Kay both led me to Jesus. Neither was heavy-handed or bumbling. Both were and are like a gentle spring shower. And as I return to this "garden" where I grew up, Kay is once again helping to tend my life, with grace and sensitivity, and prayer, and the never-failing Word of God. My goodness. To have known these two women, my mother and Kay Verrall, is to have been blessed beyond one's wildest hopes.

Mama has gone ahead. Kay and I, and so many others, will join her in the future. I'm glad I'm near enough to Kay to re-kindle the friendship. And to remember Mama with someone who loved her as much as I.