Stop callin and just show up

A few months before we found out we would be moving to our little farm community, I was in town for a visit to the land and home my parents have here.

I was driving down county road 1807, the road that leads to every cousin, great aunt, uncle, extended somebody because one man decided to leave an inheritance to his children’s children, then he went and had 9 kids to leave it all to. So here we are, the descendants still hanging around on one long county road.

I made it to the three way stop that corners by a farm store, a field of trees we planted, and miss Maxene’s house.

Nobody reading this will know Miss Maxene, but if you do, I know you love her as much as me. Probably more. But on this particular day I glanced towards the direction of her house to make sure nobody was coming when I felt a tug in my spirit, “you need to talk to her.” I shrugged it off as if it was nothing short of a coincidence or a plague of guilt that i hadn’t really laid eyes on this saint of a woman in nearly 5-10 years.

Maxene is a matriarch in the community. A kind woman who befriended my grandmother in high school and the two talked every week until the day my grandmother left this earth. In fact, just moments after my grandmother passed and the coroner had taken her body, Maxene pulled into the drive carrying her famous angel food cake for a visit with her friend.

I ignored the nudge in my spirit and made my way back to Montgomery where I went about my daily life. Every day i would feel the nudge, “you need to talk to her”. So many times for nearly 2 weeks i would think of Maxene and I would shrug until finally one day, i felt the nudge amidst a toddler naptime and thought, “I’ll write her a letter.” So I did.

I wrote a letter that had nothing to say other than, “You were on my mind. I hope you are well. Maybe we can talk on the phone sometime.” followed by my cell phone number and nothing more.

Roughly a month after sending that note, I got a phone call, “Laura?” the woman said on the other line.

“Yes ma’am?” I replied.

“It’s Maxene, I got your letter.”

“Oh wonderful. How are you?”

“Doing alright i suppose”

“Good!”

insert awkward silence

“Well it was good to hear from you. I’ll talk to you soon.” she said

we ended the awkward phone call and I thought my nudging must’ve just been in my head.

Months passed, i visited the farm and back multiple times and never said another word to Maxene.

By the end of July 2020, every plan Cody and I had made for the year imploded on us. The school we planned to attend “went solely online” leaving us locked into a year lease in a town we no longer had a need to live in. Our apartment was packed and ready to move just 48 hours from the moment we got that email and we realized that our best option was to leave Montgomery and move to this small community that had only been a resting place and getaway for a few family reunions and time with my grandparents.

Now, it was becoming my home. My grandparents gone to heaven, every person within a mile distance working full time. No children in school or sports to connect to. Churches closed and “online only” due to “the virus” and I was uprooted from my hometown and circle of friends to a cabin in the woods with a toddler and a few cows.

I didn’t work full time, i couldn’t connect to a church home, and isolation nearly broke me in a way I don’t think I have ever felt before.

In a fit of self pity i remembered the phone call months before from Maxene. So I called her. On a whim. On a weird whim that felt almost desperate for someone to talk to.

And she answered.

And told me to come over.

I loaded up toys and cookies and coffee and showed up on my best behavior with hands full of treats. Maxene barely touched the treats and drank zero coffee. She smiled and doted on my daughter. She laughed and listened to me ramble on to fill awkward silences.

Before i could come up with the next conversation piece Maxene looked me in the eyes and said, “So why did you want to visit with me?”

I sat there, not sure how to respond, when a thought ran across my mind that i spilled out before thinking about what I was saying.

“You were my grandmother’s best friend. I don’t know you like a should. I figured it was time.”

Maxene’s eyes filled with salty tears as she managed to say just a few words, “I miss her every day.”

I cried with her.

But not just because i missed my grandmother, because I do.

But my eyes were opened to the “why” behind the prompting from months before.

The Lord knew that the two of us would be lonely. Lonely in a way that couldn’t be described.

Maxene is in her home sun up to sun down, and her best friend who she called or saw 3 days a week was now gone. And so is her husband.

I was uprooted from my hometown and my plans for “the next step” were crushed.

The weeks would continue on in this little community of ours and loneliness did not lift. But I saw Maxene every week.

I finally realized that I needed Maxene MUCH more than she needed me. Or maybe even wanted me for that matter. I would call and try to bring treats and goodies and we would visit together for about an hour. Some days we would just laugh and stare at Emmy Lou while Maxene would let her tear her house apart in the most toddler way possible.

There were days I would sit and talk and spill my guts and bawl my eyes out about life being hard and challenging. Maxene always listened. She still does.

The best part, I knew anything I said would stay right there between us.

She invited me to her Wednesday bible study that was ACTUALLY meeting and most weeks I would go home with dishrags she knitted for me.

One day, as I was walking off her front porch she said to me, “ Don’t call hun, just come. I am always here.”

So I stopped.

I just went when I wanted to.

That’s when it hit me, we may not have a million things in common. She grew up in a totally different world and generation than me. She hasn’t moved from home.

However, Miss Maxene taught me the true art of community.

It’s not about perfect cookies or treats or experiences.

Maxene taught me how to stop callin’ and over thinkin’ and just to show up. That’s all anybody ever needs in this world.

We don’t need perfect, we just stinkin’ need each other.

I don’t know how much Maxene needed me. But i needed her. I continue to need her.

Now we come and she pulls out pictures of her and my grandmother in their prime. Going out on double dates with their beaus.

She tells me stories that remind me that as the world has evolved we have overcomplicated our purpose in this life and in turn its truly hurt our ability to LOVE the place we are in when we are in it.

She so lovingly gives us small gifts of coloring books and crayons and time spent on the front porch to watch “big tuckssss dive by” for emmy lou.

It’s not rocket science. It’s just showing up.

It’s the showing up that’s the true cure for the loneliness we may feel.

And when we do the thing that feels awkward, often times it ends up being the greatest gift we could ever ask for.