What Will We Leave Behind?

As a teenager, there was a little elderly lady who lived down the road from me. She was friends with my grandpa. Her name was Elsie.

She asked me if I would like to come over once a week and roll her hair up in curlers. I said, "sure." She paid me $3 to spend some time with her and her husband, his name was Al. They had a cute little dog, I can't remember his name at the moment. Every Tuesday at 3 PM, I would arrive at her house. She washed her hair just before my arrival and we would all go out on the patio and I would put curlers in her hair. It took about a half an hour out of my day and I always enjoyed it.

She had a condition in her neck that caused her head to always sit a little sideways. Her dog had a skin condition that caused it to scratch until the furr came off and the skin would bleed. They had their health problems as they aged.

Time went by, I grew up ... moved away. About once a year I would make it over to visit with her. Her dog died. Then her husband died ... an unexpected accident. He was hit by a car while crossing the road. She eventually quit driving her pretty white sports car because she decided she wasn't a good driver. I still remember the mischevious glint she would get in her blue eyes when she'd tell me "My car is sexy!" Then she'd laugh. She was always so honest with herself and so at peace with her decisions.

The last couple of years I haven't been able to get down to see her, I live farther away. Last year, I mailed her a Christmas card and I got it back with an address change. I re-mailed it to the new address. I wondered what had happened, I enclosed my phone number since I didn't have a new one for her.

This year, I mailed her a Christmas card. I just received it in the mail this morning. It was returned to me with "Deceased" written upon the front of the envelope.

I will always remember her indomitable will, strength and perseverance through the snares that life threw at her. The chill in her house while she wore a sweater. Not because she was poor, but because she was frugal. Her kindness and pleasure whenever she saw me. She made her needs known but was never clingy. She loved her plants and was always lovingly pruning them or planning what plant she was going to move where. She enjoyed her "sexy" car.

When I think of her, the mental image in my mind is of her walking with her husband and dog, a great big smile on her face that never faced directly forward. I like to think that she's doing that in Heaven today.

God bless you, Elsie Surtees. I love you.