A Passing Whisper of Wisdom

When news of the death of Martha Jorden reached me last Saturday, I was struck by a sense of loss that seemed disproportionate to my actual relationship with her. We'd met a few times, and there did seem to be a spark of connection between us, but we'd never lingered over a cup of coffee, we never rode motorcycles or horses together, and we never sat side-by-side at the bedside of a dying friend. She was on my short list of women in Ashland whom I want to get to know better, and I figured that one day, we'd make that happen. After all, we shared a number of interests and some mutual friends, and it would just be a matter of time before we'd find the time to come together. Yet with her death at age 64, it is not to be.

What I know about Martha is that her life has been about coming alongside. Whether in her work at Hospice North Central Ohio, in the counseling office she shared with her beloved husband John, or at the dinner table with friends, Martha turned "coming alongside" into an art form. Regular readers of the Ashland Times-Gazette can attest to this. While each week's Mental Health Matters column often provided factual information about issues like suicide, depression, grief, child abuse and more, Martha had a way of coming alongside even through the ink on the newsprint.

I turned to those words, grateful for the on-line archives of the newspaper that can supplement the columns I've stashed in my files over the last few years. So allow me to let the voice of Martha Jorden come alongside us for a few more moments this morning.

"Remember to be kind to yourself. Learning new ways of taking care of yourself takes time, perseverance and a good sense of humor to help lighten the challenges of change."

"Courage," said Martha, "is the part of our heart that speaks to those around us when hope is silent."

And then on grief: "Grief is not a problem to be solved, but a journey to be lived. We can either join in the journey or fight against it. We do not need to protect others from their grief. Rather, let us be present and love those we care about - and be gentle with their hearts."

And who can forget the mantra that ran in nearly every column: 'It is always OK to ask for help."

In words submitted the day before her death, Martha chose a story from a collection entitled "Everyday Greatness." After recounting the conscious decision of a man to be a loving father and husband while on vacation - "no ifs ands or buts," Martha wrote this to all of us: 'Long-term relationships take commitment and work. We make choices every day about our relationships - it truly is our decision to look for the best in each other, to take risks to grow, to change and to make room for differences." She then shared a final line from that account: Anderson (the husband) said, "I made a new vow to keep on remembering to choose love.""Yes," said Martha, "you can, too."

In June, Martha shared from the artist Flavia Weedn, quoting these words: "Some people come into our lives and leave footprints on our hearts and we are never ever the same. . . They help us become aware of the delicate winds of hope . . . and we discover within every human spirit there are wings yearning to fly. Some people awaken us to new and deeper realizations . . . for we gain insight from the passing whisper of their wisdom. "

This week, there are footprints on the heart of our community, along with an empty place at the table. We have gained insight and faith from the passing whisper of Martha's wisdom that will live on in the resiliency, courage and love she modeled as she came alongside the people of Ashland. She taught us to love deeply, and to grieve deeply. Blessed be Martha.

 

Here we are, at the end of 2012, looking at the “year in review” pictures and wondering about what 2013 will bring to us in terms of trials and tribulations, as well as excitement and joy.  The last days of the old year and the first days of the new give us the chance to take stock of where we’ve been, and to look forward to new opportunities that will come.  Perhaps we’ll even make a resolution or two in hopes of making some changes in our lives.

While many of us don’t do too well with New Year’s resolutions, there is value in setting life goals and in receiving wisdom from others who have walked this path before us. As a woman of many opinions, I’ve got plenty of advice I could share, but decided to draw upon two gems of counsel that came my way many years ago. They both come in the form of images – one of five letters scrawled across a blackboard, and the other of an elderly woman climbing into a van.

The first is from my 11^th grade history teacher, Mr. Alfred Scipione. His favorite phrase to his teen-age charges was:  ‘Keep your sunny side up.”  I don’t remember much about Mr. Scipione, but, thanks to the marvels of the Internet, I discovered that his personal history matched his counsel. He faced serious childhood illness, dreamed of unreachable baseball stardom, was turned down for WWII military service, and had a son who was wounded in Viet Nam. Yet here he stood in front of his class, day after day, and taught us how to face life: “Keep your sunny side up.”

He may have hijacked this life motto from the song of the same name, written by Johnny Hamp, with music by Buffalo native Ray Henderson.  Recorded shortly after the stock market crash in 1929, it featured this undistinguished line: “Stand upon your legs, be like two fried eggs, keep your sunny side up.” Regardless of the origin of his counsel, it became a classroom legend – we received tests or papers back with KYSSU proclaimed in bold letters, it appeared upon the chalkboard daily, and was mentioned at least once per class period. The message came across loud and clear: you can choose how to face life!

The second nugget of wisdom comes from Brigadier Elizabeth Earl, a retired Salvation Army officer collected donations at the A&P in our first assignment in Dover, New Jersey. She was quite a character, large both in physical appearance and in spiritual presence, and her words of comfort and courage lifted us up on many an overwhelming day in the life of a rookie Salvation Army officer. Since she had no car, Larry and/or I would pick her up in the 15 passenger van, and invariably, as she took aim for the heights of the passenger seat, she’d hitch up her skirt to ease her climb and say, “fix your eyes on the Lord, son.”

O, my dear Elizabeth, you don’t know how many times I’ve thought of your words. You may jokingly have wanted to spare my husband from seeing your elephantine legs in all their glory, but your words echo through the decades. “Fix your eyes on the Lord.” Now I know that not everyone shares the same religious convictions that Elizabeth and I do, but her words strike home to all of us. Fix your eyes on what you believe in – higher power, convictions, faith. Set your sights on the goal. Keep your eye on the prize. Don’t get distracted from what matters most to you. Focus.

Maya Angelou reminds us: “Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with shades of deeper meaning.” I’m grateful that I can still hear Mr. Scipione with his trace of a South Philly accent urging, “keep your sunny side up,” and the old Brigadier commanding us on with a twinkle in her eye, “fix your eyes on the Lord, son.” Can’t ask for better wisdom at the start of a new year.