To be sold eventually to strangers, 6
1. Once, when I was in junior high and my dad and I were going through one of our times of not getting along, he sent me a letter. I can only remember two things about it. One was that after my friend Jan read it, she said, “He sounds like a preacher.”
2. After a long career that involved meeting people all the time, and talking to them, and making presentations to City Councils and so forth, my dad has diagnosed himself with social anxiety disorder. (Thanks a lot for that, Mayo Clinic Newsletter.)
3. My mom really was very shy. In groups, especially, until she found one person (or a child: she liked kids) to talk to.
4. Both of them were generally content to spend their time in each other’s company, doing quiet things like reading or sewing. They almost never went out with friends, and as far as I know my dad always came straight home from work at the end of the day. (Right after my dad retired, there was some talk of taking ballroom dancing with another couple, but that never got past the talking-about-it-stage.)
5. They both were active church members. Once, my mom was teaching Sunday School for three year olds – the class was called Toddlers – at the same time my dad taught a class for senior citizens. He dubbed them the Old Toddlers. We laughed about that for a long time, but don’t bring it up any more: now that he is an Old Toddler himself, it might not be quite as amusing as it used to be.
6. So depending on how you look at it, this either makes no sense or a lot of sense: both of them spent years working as volunteer chaplains at the hospital. They’d go on hospital visits every Sunday afternoon, still wearing their good church clothes, and spend a few hours stopping by to visit patients.
7. My deepest admiration goes to them for doing that; it’s not something I could do.
8. It’s been almost fifteen years since Methodist Hospital changed its name (and its religious affiliation, too) to Covenant Medical Center. But, my parents’ nametags from their chaplain days were still in the dresser drawer.
Lubbock, Texas
photographed 9.1.2013
Posted on October 7, 2013, in Photography and tagged 365 photo project, black and white photography, lubbock, lubbock texas, melinda green harvey, one day one image, photo a day, photography, texas. Bookmark the permalink. 23 Comments.
One Day | One Image 
We only have so much time but it sounds like your parents made the most of it. I admire that.
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It was a different time. Surely these items won’t be sold to strangers?
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To be honest, I am not sure what happened to these particular items. I don’t think I kept them, but my sister might have.
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Melinda, you are writing a unique biography of your parents, a sympathetic and personal one. What a wonderful thing to do with a camera.
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Thank you, Ehpem. I am still not quite sure where this project is headed, and I appreciate all the support I am getting from my blogging friends. It really does mean a lot to me.
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I don’t really know what you mean when you say you don’t know where this project is headed. It’s already there!
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Some days I think it might be a book. Other days I think six or seven posts on the blog may be enough. A lot of days I am not sure I have the energy (emotional, and otherwise) to keep it going. And every day, I overthink it.
That’s what I meant!
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Ah. A book is a great idea.
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In a perfect world. this would be when you told that, in addition to being a blogger, you were an Important International Book Publisher…..
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Afraid not, I’m a pensioner! 🙂
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Oh, well – it didn’t hurt to ask!
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I dearly love this post.
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Thank you, Mary. I appreciate your comment!
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#3 sounds like me.
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Then you and my mom would have really hit it off!
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Actually I think you and I would hit it off.
I read your about page yesterday. I’ve often said “I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.”
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Yes – good point! I think we’ve already hit it off, actually! I’ve coasted through my entire career(s) without real concept about what I wanted to do. I’ve done OK, though, and have a really good job now. So maybe making that decision isn’t all that important, after all!
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😀
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My parents were similar in so many ways. My mother ran a sunday school for toddlers, sang in the church choir. My father was a church organist, accomplished pianist and leader of bible study groups. They had few friends outside the church circle, the secular world was not exactly shunned, but was regarded as of no real value. I sometimes think their world was very narrow, but they made a difference to the lives of so many folk.
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Yes – I know exactly what you mean. To me, my parents’ world seemed narrow, but they were very content and did a lot of good in the community. Sometimes I am dismissive about the narrowness of it, until I remember all the ways they helped others. That’s not narrow at all. Also, from the perspective of where they came from, their lives were broad. They both grew up in rural areas, in families that were struggling through the Depression. My dad had a long and successful career, and my sister and we raised by loving parents who showed us how to be compassionate and kind and generous. None of those things are narrow, are they?
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The critical point is they were happy doing what they did, and that’s what counts at the end of the day.
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Yes, you are exactly right. That IS what counts. And kudos to my parents (and yours, too, I suspect) for finding their niche. Not everyone is that fortunate.
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Yes – they were happy and content and highly respected for what they did. Not many of us can match that.
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