10 minute read
Kids These Days by Tara Bailey
the southern
KIDS THESE DAYS Father Still Knows Best
by Tara Bailey
A
year or so ago I felt social pressure from people posting their kids’ college acceptances for everyone to admire. My child wanted the world to know that she, too, was no dummy, and would I please publicly announce her acceptance to the schools of her choice. So I did.
I recently recognized that familiar feeling as soon as COVID vaccine appointments opened up for seniors ages 70 and up. It seemed that all of my friends were sharing their joy and relief in getting their parents’ vaccines scheduled. I returned their elation and couldn’t wait to receive word from my own parents that they, too, soon would be getting jabbed. I wanted the date, time, and location of their appointments so I could finally count the days until I could hug them again. Being the intelligent, sophisticated, internet-savvy people they are, it never crossed my mind that they would need help getting an online appointment. In fact, at nearly fifty, I’m the one who still calls them for help navigating strange waters that seem to get stranger the older I get.
So, I waited for their text. And waited. Surely they had gotten up in the wee hours, fingers at the keyboard, ready to claim their time. We had talked the previous day about how excited we were that this was becoming a reality, and I made them promise that they would get online the second their eyes opened. It was comforting to know that my parents, ever-efficient planners, would be among the first in line.
A text finally arrived from my dad during my planning period at school. It was inquiring about details of our beach trip at the end of June. See what I mean about planning? I ignored his question
KIDS THESE DAYS
and went straight for the meat, asking if they had made their appointments. Knowing people were already securing slots far into March, I nearly panicked when he replied:
“We just tried to sign up again in person at Ingles and were told we had to go home and do it online. The DHEC website is not very helpful. It says there are no available appointments in our area.”
This was not part of the plan. And what in the world was he talking about? Ingles is a grocery chain in the Upstate, not a hospital. So I called him.
“So far the vaccine is only being given at hospitals or long-term care facilities. Why didn’t you just immediately go to the DHEC site?” I felt terrible scolding my dad, as I should, but I was frustrated that I was denied my longawaited sigh of relief.
As patient as he is organized, my dad explained that people in his age bracket were “well in the know” of where vaccines were being given. I frantically looked up Ingles and saw that it indeed was taking names - for a waiting list. I was still confused, because I had not seen nor heard a thing about Ingles. If I was unaware of it, it obviously could not be true. And I didn’t want them on an interminable waiting list, anyway.
I pulled up the DHEC map of red and green dots with all the urgency of Liam Neeson searching for his kidnapped daughter and found some places in neighboring counties that were still taking appointments. I sent him links and, while still on the phone, shouted, “Chester! Lancaster! Columbia! Go, go, go!” By the end of my planning period I had put them on lists in three counties, and he had secured an actual appointment time a few counties away for March. It wasn’t ideal, but It would have to do.
My dad texted, “Meanwhile, we’ll wait and see what Ingles says.”
“Dad,” I said. “I really don’t think you qualify for a grocery store vaccine. I’ve never even heard of this.”
I couldn’t believe I was at the stage of life where I had to walk my parents through such tasks, explaining them along the way. Had isolation done this to them? Or was it just that I had not seen them in so long? Were they getting…old?
At least I had done my part as Dutiful Daughter. I let them know to “expect emails from Prisma and MUSC!” I also instructed them to forward them to me when they arrived - you know, so I could make sure the right steps were taken. Old people, after all. I also sent them a number for DHEC they could call for more information. I would not let my parents down.
By the time school wrapped up, I was worn out. As rewarding as teaching is, it’s not exactly a relaxing job, and my emotional energy had been spent searching for the Ark of the Covenant all day. Though I had not yet found it, I was happy to be hot on its trail. It felt strange being at the place in life I thought was a bit further down the road, taking over details for my parents and worrying about their health. I was a bit concerned, but I also knew this day would come. This would be good mental practice for larger issues in the years ahead. I made a note to discuss estate planning with them when we finally got together.
I closed my laptop and was putting on my jacket when I got another text from my dad.
“Cancel the other appointments. We have one for tomorrow morning.”
“Wow!” I texted back. “Is it the place in Greenville? Did they finally get in touch with you? I heard they were on top of things there.”
“No. At Ingles.”
Humbled, I smiled. Maybe not so old, after all. AM
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the southern
Feline Theology
by Lili Hiser
LIFE & FAITH
ince my mom’s home is in a rural part of
Sthe Lowcountry, stray animals tend to show up. A couple of cats once decided the barn looked like a nice home, and soon kittens appeared! As fluffy and lovable as these cats looked from a distance, the sad reality was they were born feral, so the sight of humans made them run like wildfire! Home from graduate school, I helped my mom manage these new residents. Becoming overnight owners to dozens of untouchable cats was not the plan, but we saw them as God’s creatures needing care. In this unlikely place, a profound truth was waiting to be revealed.
As the kitty population quickly grew, my mom and I made a spreadsheet of all the cats with one mission in mind. Our goal was to catch each one, take them to the vet, get them fixed and return them to the barn to enjoy life. Oreo, the most wild-spirited young male in the colony, had little interest in our tuna-baited cage. As the spreadsheet got shorter, my ambition to catch him increased. After multiple failed attempts catching the same plump cats over and over, one morning I saw black-and-white fur in the cage and knew he was finally caught!
We took Oreo to the vet’s office and emphasized that he was a very feral cat. The tech assured us they dealt with animals like him often and he would be fine. Several hours passed, and we returned to pick up the newly neutered Oreo. The tech explained that the operation went well but when removing him from the cage he escaped their grip! Quite a pursuit went down, including him climbing a bird cage that gashed his thigh and required stitches. We were not surprised such an ordeal occurred, but we were surprised at what happened next.
Due to Oreo needing extra healing, we placed him in the laundry room of our house, much to his displeasure. He wanted out, and after the traumatic vet experience, I could not blame him. At first he was so skittish when we opened the door that he would hide, making me question if he had escaped. But as the days went on, we started to see more curious peeps of his black-and-white face from the shadows.
Then something unanticipated happened. Somewhere between the good food and warm place to sleep, Oreo realized we truly were not there to hurt him. Oreo changed. In a short period he was well enough to move out from the laundry room–but not back to the yard. He moved into the rest of the house! It’s rare for feral cats to become tame, but Oreo had transformed into the most loving and affectionate cat any of us had ever witnessed! One of his most notable personality traits was his desire for eye contact. If he was sitting across the room and your eyes met his (even unintentionally), within a blink of his huge yellow eyes, he would run across the room, jump in your lap and bump heads, all while purring-up a storm!
To this day, Oreo’s unexpected conversion left an impression that touched my very soul. Some may see feral cats as nuisances or lost causes. Sadly, some see fellow humans the same way- that many cannot change or that they are too far gone. God sees it much differently.
In the Bible, Saul was a man who hated Christianity and persecuted Christ followers. Amazingly, he was changed by God, renamed Paul, and became one of the most influential followers ever. Another example is Mary of Magdalene who was possessed by seven demons. When Jesus healed and saved her, she became so close to Him that she remained for his crucifixion and was the first person He saw after His resurrection. Prior to their change, both Saul and Mary could have been considered outcasts or viewed as unworthy of love or mercy. But God has the ability to make all things new. Just as He transformed them, He still does this for us today.
I believe that God uses animals to reach the places in our hearts that form our perspectives on life. Without ever speaking a word of our language, our fur babies (feral and otherwise!) can still teach us valuable lessons. Every time sweet Oreo locked eyes with me I was reminded we are never so lost or too “feral” that God cannot bring us around. AM
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