More Time...

 More time...it is something we all think we have. Yet "more time" is not always available to us. Whether it is us personally or someone we love, there will come a day when we will not have a tomorrow. So maybe we should make the decision to live our lives making the best use of the time we do have. Then we won't have regrets later on. I trust that my reflections in this blog will encourage me and all of you to live selflessly for the people in our lives while we still have them with us. 

My dear, sweet Vovo Theresa died yesterday. When Delcio called to tell me the news, he began by telling me that he needed me to be strong. I wasn't; the tears flowed out of me, unsolicited. But they dried up as quickly as they came. How could I be sad when this blessed saint has left a world of suffering and poverty and entered into her place in an eternal kingdom of abundant life?!? All I could picture was Vovo Theresa walking, dancing and skipping for joy as she entered a banquet feast prepared just for her! Her life on this earth was not at all nice. She grew up in a very impoverished village. She knew what it was like to be hungry and to go without the most basic of things. She was a wife and a mother (who has buried 5 or her 6 children) and a grandmother. She scraped out an existence for her and her family. She lived a life of extreme poverty that you and I will never even be able to begin to comprehend. 

When I first met her 9 years ago, she was just plain old. She didn't even know how old she was! She did not have use of her legs and was not able to walk anymore. She lived in a one-room cement house with a metal roof. There was no electricity or water. No bathroom. She had a door but no window. In order to be safe at night from robbers, she would push the door shut and put rocks against it. Her only belongings were a few bundles of clothing and a grass mat that she slept on. When you entered her house, it was airless, stuffy and smelled of urine. Often, you would spy a rat scurrying off for cover. She did not have the capacity to care for herself at all. 

Her little house was connected to one occupied by her son, Bento. Bento could not walk either. He did not have the use of the left side of his body, most likely due to a stroke. Bento was a bit more physically able than his mother. He kept his room neatly swept out and clean. He had a pile of clothing in a corner and a grass mat to sleep on at night as well. 

Every day, Vovo Theresa and Bento would crawl outside and sit in their dirt yard in each other's company. This is where we would find them each time we came to visit. As soon as we exited the car, Bento would begin calling out to me repeatedly, "Mama! Mama!" And even though she couldn't walk, Vovo Theresa always, always greeted me with a huge smile and a dance as she sat on the ground. They brought me so much joy. I always made sure to kiss their cheeks (with a very loud "mwah, mwah" as I did), hug them, and hold their hands. I would kneel down next to them to look them eye to eye, even though my aging knees protested, creaked and ached. It was important to me to be on their level and not look down on them. Even with the onset of Covid and the warnings to not kiss or touch other people, I continued on. How has it happened that we live in a world where you cannot touch people anymore?!? They were so alone and had no one in their lives to simply touch them. No one else ever took notice of them. People would pass by on the road and not even see them there. I felt compelled to be that one person who not only saw them, but touched them. 

Bento spoke a very slurred Portuguese, and I, of course, spoke my pathetic "American Portuguese", but we were able to understand each other. In communicating with Vovo Theresa, though, I had to rely on Delcio because she only spoke the local Shongan language. 

We did what we could for them, bringing them fresh clothing and blankets, tea, sugar and food...basic things like this. We discovered that when we brought them the more "luxurious" items that we thought would improve their lives...a soft pillow on which to lay their head when they slept, an absorbent bath towel to dry off, a cushy mat to put under them when they slept or an exercise mat to sit on when they were outside, or warm blankets to stave off the cold on a winter night... they didn't use them! They hid them away inside their house because if people saw them, they would come and steal them from them!

So we had to be creative in special gifts for them. We opted for socks that they would keep on their feet, solar-powered lamps small enough to be tucked away, sweet cakes and candies they could eat unnoticed, and poison rat traps that could be drilled into the floor of the house. Vovo Theresa's most favorite treat was when I would bring her cashews. She said they reminded her of when she was a little girl growing up in Gaza where cashew trees are plentiful. She was always kind to share her cashews, passing them out to the little children who would gather and join us during our visits. These were little things, but they helped improve their lives. 

Vovo Theresa and Bento had an interesting relationship. They were mother and son. They were neighbors. But they talked very little and knew very little about each other. They were simply companions and a presence in each other's life. They had each other and kept each other from being alone. 

A funny story about them...Morning tea (with way too much sugar) and a type of bread called "pao" are a daily staple for all Mozambicans. So we made sure each month that Vovo Theresa and Bento had tea and sugar, and we arranged for a neighbor to bring hot water. We brought a bag of tea and a small bag of sugar for each one and would leave it in their house at the beginning of the month. I remember one month, the store did not have the small bags of sugar we usually bought, so we bought a large one, gave it to Bento, and told him to please share with his mother. We were shocked a month later when we brought the new supply of tea and sugar to learn from Vovo Theresa that Bento did not share the sugar with her the entire month! He kept it all to himself and she had to go without. Oh Bento...shame on you! And lesson learned for us in making future purchases for them. 

Our dear Bento died last year. It was heartbreaking. He had been sick for some time with a bad flu. The last time I saw him, he laid on his mat looking up at me with pleading eyes, calling "Mama. Mama." We made a plan with extended family to take him to hospital the next morning, but when we arrived, he had already passed. As heartbreaking as it was for us, I couldn't even begin to imagine how heartwrenching it would be for his mother. The extended family made the decision to not tell her until the day of the funeral. A wooden coffin was brought to the home and he was placed in it. I had to turn my head away as I watched the family carry Vovo Theresa from her room to his room to see him one last time. And I wept as I watched them carry her frail body back to her room again as it heaved with sobs. 

Bento was laid to rest and life continued on for Vovo Theresa. Yet now, she was really alone. With increasing frequency, we would arrive to find her shut inside her house, sleeping with the protective rocks holding the door shut. She never ever denied us entry. She always got up and moved them out of the way for us to come in. In time, she was not able to crawl to the door and move them. She didn't have the strength. So Delcio would reach under and push them until we could squeeze past the door. Yet she still greeted us by sitting up and doing her dance with her happy smile. Then it came to a point where she was not able to sit up anymore. She would lie on her mat and talk with us. There was no more dance in her. 

It did not come as an unexpected shock to receive the call from Delcio that she had passed away. But still, I cried. And then, I rejoiced. But then, what did come as an unexpected shock to me was the ugliest of thoughts that came creeping in. Had I really done enough? Couldn't I have done more? How many times did I not pull off the road and go back to visit her because I was busy? Why didn't I stop by on New Year's Eve last week with a treat for her? How was it that I didn't even know she was sick this week? I had done so little and could have done so much more. I could have taken more time to sit with her, not even to talk, just to be there with her. In my house, I have many empty water bottles that I kept to bring water to her on hot days. Why were they still there in my house? I should have taken them to her filled with cool water. So now, I found myself throwing them out, one by one, realizing that each one represented time with her that I no longer have. 

I share all of this not to have anyone comfort me saying that I did do a lot for her and blessed her. I know I did. And I realize these horrible thoughts were sent to make me feel badly. So I chose to turn these negative thoughts into more constructive ones by asking myself, "What can I learn from this?"

Visiting with these two barely recognized people who were truly "the least of these" has been the biggest honor and privilege of my life. I loved them dearly, and they loved me back. Not for the things I brought for them, but I know in my heart that they loved me because I SAW them and spent time with them. When I would go away for long periods of time to the US, upon my return, Vovo Theresa would be so happy. She worried about me when I was away and didn't visit. She worried something happened to me! Me! This little old woman worried about me! Bless her dear heart!

So...what have I learned? Because of Vovo Theresa, I am going to make a conscious choice followed up with conscious actions to BE there for the people in my life. I don't want to be a self-centered person who indulges myself. I don't want to be too busy or too lazy to give of my time. I want to be the person who is willing to go out of my way and out of my comfort to bless others. We live in a world where we are increasingly being isolated from each other. This is wrong. This is destructive. I want to be the person who stands against this and chooses to love others and be with others... touching them, talking with them, being with them, and being a blessing. 

Over the past year, I have struggled to get out of the car at Vovo Theresa's house, knowing I would not be hearing Bento calling out, "Mama! Mama!" Today, I find it hard to bear the thought of going to their humble home for the funeral tomorrow and not being greeted by my sweet Vovo. But I will go and pay my respects to honor this lovely saint...and I will then move on to be a better person by actively loving the people in my life. Because we do not always have more time to love them. So we must take advantage of the time we have now. I hope you will make the choice to do the same.