Category: Memory Box Monday

As a teenager I was watched over by a second mother, the mighty Mrs. Sheila. The very mention of the name makes children sing, the youthful weary, and evil flee.  If Bob is the name above all mortal names, then Sheila is a very close second and I dare you to find anyone else that would tell you differently.

Mrs. Sheila was the neighborhood Mom. When everyone went somewhere to hang out, they ultimately ended up at Mrs. Sheila’s house. When someone needed a ride, Mrs. Sheila or her husband Paul (the man of the man, aka Bob Father) would always accommodate. Except for when the church had an activity, you could never, and I mean never, go over to their house and find it empty. It was a party all the time.

Parents never worried. Just saying, “I’ll be at Mrs. Sheila’s,” would immediately put them at ease. She is the ultimate mother hen and I mean that in a good way. If you had been entrusted in her care, she had the uncanny ability of knowing exactly what you where doing, where you were doing it, and who you were doing it with.  On one occasion I was on the road with Bob and the band playing a show in a small town in south Georgia. We were at least 2 to 3 hours from home. We played a show until midnight and at the last second, our accommodations were changed to a hotel in another town. As we fell into bed that night, the hotel room phone rang. I answered. It was Sheila. In disbelief I handed the phone to Bob and immediately started checking his personal effects for tracking devices.

Although she watched after all of us like a hawk, she was also more than accepting of our crazy ideas and actions. She was game as long as we didn’t tear the house apart and even that was ok sometimes. From kicking each other where men should not kick each other, to wrestling each other out of breathe, to rolling down the highway laying on skateboards at 45 mph Mrs. Shelia never so much a nagged (mostly). Well, let’s just say she never stopped us, and that’s alright by any teenager’s standard.

Mrs. Sheila thank you for letting us raid your house, and keep you up till the whee hours of the morning.  Thank you for providing a safe environment were kids could crash, have fun, and feel accepted and safe. You made every one of us feel loved and we always knew we had a second home with your family.  May God bless your generosity and patience. I hope that you always feel surrounded by love and security.

And Bob Father, thanks for keeping Mrs. Sheila from killing us. 🙂 You guys are awesome!

ON A SEPARATE NOTE: Memory Box Monday will be winding down for awhile as all of my memory box stuff is going into storage while we attempt to sell the house.  I might have one more week’s worth of material hanging around here somewhere. Thanks!

There are only a couple of five year olds that I have known that surprised me with their ability to maintain an engaging conversation at such a young age.  Elijah was one of them.

I remember the first time I saw Elijah. He prayed for his dad Terry, a traveling evangelist at the time, before the sermon began.  Terry would say, “I preach,” and Elijah would respond, “and I pray.”  Elijah was three. “Cute trick,” my jaded, teenage self thought.  Oh teenage self, so young, so wrong.

The first time I actually met Elijah was on a long van ride to Helen, Ga.  Terry had become our youth leader and Elijah was riding with us on this occasion.  As we started down the road I said something to Elijah who was sitting next to me. I don’t remember the exchange exactly but it went something like…

Jason says something cute to pick on Elijah.
Elijah hits Jason with a verbal zinger from left field.
Jason’s mouth drops open and shoots attention to driver.
Driver, Terry, turns around momentarily with huge grin and says, “Guess you didn’t expect that from a 5 year old!”

The rest of the drive involved me getting to know this incredible kid.

This wonderful family continued to amaze me with their progeny. Emilie, their daughter, at the mature age of two constantly reminded me and my friends of how silly we were, and, in no uncertain terms, that we were to desist from any action that might cause her mental anguish. (“No Bob!”, “No Jason!”, “Jason, you so silly.”) From all I’ve gathered online in the past few days, it appears that Elijah and his sister haven’t lost their cheekiness and wit through the years.

I’m not sure when this note was written, but I suppose it wasn’t too long after I met Elijah. I like this note because it’s the unfiltered opinion of a child.  Also, it’s fun to see the valiant attempt at penmanship and correct grammar (still working on that myself). Most of all I love all the memories this note brings back of this extraordinary family.

Elijah: Thank you for teaching me that amazing inspiration and ideas can come from the most unassuming of places. I hope that you are never at a loss for wisdom and that you continue to be an encouragement to others.

Emilie:  Although so young at the time, thank you for the unending laughter you provided us on many trips.  Your curiosity and unfiltered, two year old dialogue kept us rolling.  May you continue to leave a trail of joy and laughter wherever you go.

Sandy: Thank you for lending all of us in the various youth groups your time, care, and family.  You are a great mother and have raised 3 fantastic individuals (I include Terry in that number).

Terry: You have shown me that God can accomplish what I ask at a level far above what I originally intended. You made a significant mark in my life and showed me how powerful and practical faith and prayer can be. Thank you for investing in me and being a teacher and a mentor.

This wonderful piece of art was bestowed upon me by the one I would lovingly one day call my adopted little sister.  No, my parents didn’t adopt her, but Callie adopted me.

Callie was a little girl I met at church who wasn’t much taller than my waist and if you would have seen me at sixteen, that wasn’t very tall.  We had seen each other only a couple of times when she greeted me with this masterpiece.  It was an act of pure kindness.  I praised her for her artistic skill and in the weeks to follow found that I was to be the owner of an entire gallery of similar works.  For several years after that and until I permanently left for college, I was constantly loved by this little girl and her incredible parents, Mike and Natalie.

Out of all the  photos and art that have been hung on the walls of my dorm or set on the top of a desk, this one always seems to make the collection.

Callie, wherever you are, thank you for your selflessness.  Thank you for the unfiltered love you showed a skinny, nerdy teenager who was still trying to figure himself out.  I wish you happiness and a fulfilling life, and may you continue to bring sunshine to the soul of everyone you meet.