Elizabeth Milby Massey

Elizabeth Milby Massey of Shackelfords, Virginia, and her seven children. I met her at Christmastime, a very long time ago during my hippie days, and I loved her instantly. She loved me back and never judged me; that would not have been in her nature as a true follower of the teachings of Jesus. She was for some years my mother-in-law, and we never had even one moment of tension between us. 

After that, she remained my dear friend with a special place in my heart. That place has not been filled since she left us, and will never be filled. But I know that what I feel must pale in comparison to some of the others in her family. I have never known anyone more loved and respected by generation after generation than she was - and is. 

Merry Christmas, Elizabeth! I love you and miss you. I miss the smiles and laughter, the children playing, your kindness and grace, and the delightful meals, feasts really, maybe especially the oyster dressing, at Thanksgiving and Christmas in the warmth of your home.

Elizabeth, front and center, beautiful to the end.

Jedus Bon - The Christmas Story in Gullah

from the Gospel of Luke

Jedus Bon

Een dat time, Caesar Augustus been de rula ob de Roman people. E mek a law een all de town een de wol weh e hab tority, say, “Ebrybody haffa go ta town fa count by de head an write down e name.” 

2Dis been de fus time dey count by de head, jurin de time Quirinius de gobna ob Syria country. 

3So den, ebrybody gone fa count by de head, ta e own town weh e ole people been bon.

4Now Joseph same fashion gone fom Nazareth town een Galilee. E trabel ta de town name Betlem een Judea, weh de ole people leada, King David, been bon. Joseph gone dey cause e blongst ta David fambly. 

5E gone fa count by de head, an Mary gone long wid um. E gage fa marry um. An Mary been speckin. 

6Same time wen dey been dey, time come fa Mary gone een. 

7E hab boy chile, e fusbon. E wrop um op een closs wa been teah eenta scrip an lay um een a trough weh dey feed de cow an oda animal dem. Cause Mary an Joseph beena stay weh de animal sleep. Dey ain been no room fa dem eenside de bodin house.

De Shephud Dem Go fa See de Chile Jedus

8Now some shephud been dey een de fiel dat night. Dey beena stay dey, da mind dey sheep. 

9Den one angel ob de Lawd appeah ta um. De night time done lightnin op jes like day clean broad. Cause ob dat, de shephud mos scaid ta det. 

10Bot de angel tell um say, “Mus dohn feah! A hab good nyews wa gwine mek ebrybody rejaice. 

11Cause A come fa tell oona, ‘Right now, dis day, a Sabior done bon fa oona. E Christ de Lawd. An e bon een David town!’ 

12A gwine tell oona wa oona gwine see dey. Cause ob dat, oona gwine know A done tell oona de trute. Oona gwine find de chile wrop op een closs wa been teah eenta scrip, an e been leddown een a trough.”

13All ob a sudden, a heapa oda angel fom heaben been longside dat angel. Dey all da praise God, say,

14“Leh we gii glory ta God een de mos high heaben.

Leh dey be peace ta dem een de wol wa hab God fabor!”

15Den de angel lef um an gone back ta heaben. An de shephud dem say ta one noda, “Leh we go ta Betlem fa see dis ting wa happen oba dey. De Lawd esef done sen e angel fa tell we.”

Gullah is spoken on the Sea Islands off the coast of South Carolina and Georgia.
Translation by the Sea Islands Translation Team, a project to translate great works, including the Bible, into the beautiful creole language of Gullah.

My Mama

I believe in Empathy. But I have found something I think maybe you have to experience yourself in order to see the horror. When I was in my early twenties, a beginning Reading teacher in my first apartment, every Sunday evening I would see my next door neighbor, a man probably the age i am now, standing at his kitchen window above his kitchen sink. All dressed up in a coat and tie, he'd be drinking shots of whiskey. He always visited his mother in the nursing home on Sundays, and this is how he coped with what it did to him. I thought I understood. Silly me.

Early this morning I woke up with an overwhelming desire to see my Mom, to hold her in my arms, to stroke her face, to kiss her cheeks, to tell her how sorry I am for all the time times I let her down and to thank her for never letting me down. The guilt I feel at not being able to take care of her is inutterable.

I hurried straight to the nursing home. There are Christmas trees and wreaths and garlands everywhere, but the first thing that hits you in the face is the smell. I kept telling myself, Hang on, Olfactory fatigue will set in soon and you'll no longer notice. Then there is the heat. The room was around 90 degrees because Mom's roommate has some unspecified problem that makes her need it. Mom's face showed recognition, but she could not tell me who I was, how we are related. She was surprised and delighted to hear that she is "my Mama." She did not know my name. She flashed the biggest smile when I said "Victoria." She liked it. Meanwhile, the other woman talked loudly to Jesus, without stopping, telling him how proud of him she is. A tear fell from Mom's eye.

It's too early for shots of whiskey, and whiskey would kill me instantly anyway. It's Kia's fur, Readmore's purr, the hope of a soul mate to come, the grace of God, and just waiting for the pain to subside.

Here's Mom before she had her 3 falls and Alzheimer's, not that long ago. Here she is in the nursing home in July, amazing how much decline there has been since summer. She has lost 20 more pounds. And the laughter is gone from her eyes. That's the hardest part.