Friends – Page 2 – Cynthia Reyes

Thanks for your support in recent weeks. It reminds me: it’s so important to reach out to others in times of stress, illness or other need. I offer these tips (please add your own):

Call. And call again. It matters to your friend, even if they can’t come to the phone. Some friends called even when I couldn’t think or speak clearly. They ended up talking with my husband. We both appreciated their effort.
Send a card. In these days of quick email, a personal card is a valued touch. Personalize it with your own caring or inspirational words. A few friends reassured me: “This is just a temporary setback, Cynthia. You WILL recover!”
Use email. Some friends sent me uplifting e-cards and jokes. Some sent me photos of their garden. And friend Carl visited and took photos of our garden, since I couldn’t go to see it myself. Then he sent me a picture of one flower every week. Those jokes, e-cards and photos cheered me.
If possible, bring soup! Family friend Eva showed up with soup and magazines. I had a concussion and couldn’t read at first. I also had no appetite. But that soup kept me going in the early days after my fall. Later, friends John and Anne travelled a long way to bring us a delicious meal and spend time with my husband and me.
Ask “How may I help?” My friend Gail, a great cook, kept asking. One day, I realized that I wanted Jamaican food. So Gail cooked oxtail and broad beans (with rice ‘n’ peas) and both couples had a great evening together.
Pray. Let your friend know you’re sending good vibes and/or praying for him/her and their loved ones. I could see that my family was deeply distressed in the first three weeks after my fall. Knowing friends at church and elsewhere were praying for them was a comfort.

And yes, my friends who wrote via my blog and Facebook: I read your caring wishes as soon as I could. Those wishes warmed my family’s hearts, as well as mine. Thank you.

Cynthia.

Photo below by Hamlin Grange

Blog Photo - Doors Open The Grange Magnolia CU by Hamlin

A Good Home, Old Friends

Good Friends

August 23, 2016August 24, 2016 Cynthia Reyes

The problem with old people is that they have a habit of dying.

And the problem with me is that I know this, but I keep loving old people.

Last time I checked, roughly half of my close friends were over eighty.

I’m decades younger myself, but from hanging out with these friends, eighty has come to seem positively young to me. Not to mention fun.

So I don’t temper my naughty jokes because a person is eighty or ninety.

I only realize that I’ve referred to octogenarian Jane as “Kiddo” or to Muriel as “my dear girl” if someone else points it out.

They are my pals. Jane, Muriel, Mae, Marion, Merle are among my closest. Harry, Mr. Smith, Henry, Bryan were also my pals. My mother, Louise, most of all.

I love them. I loved them.

Elderly people make the best friends and I love being in their company.

Which makes The Grim Reaper my big enemy.

I find myself wanting to fight off The Grim One, wrestle him to the ground, or at least tell him to take a hike.

Old people speak their mind.

“I’m not elderly. I’m old!” says my 80-something friend. “It’s okay to use the word. I don’t mind.” I can almost hear her shrug into the phone.

It’s as if being candid is not an option at this stage in their lives, but mandatory. After all, with a relatively short time left on the earth, who has the time to lie?

Yet they have also learned to temper their frank assessments with grace. At least the old people that I love do.

They have a way of passing on affection with criticism, of pointing out the error of my ways without drawing blood.

Sometimes, it’s delivered in an observation so astutely phrased, it makes me want to rise above my knuckle-headed ideas about how to solve a problem.

“With your manner, Cynthia, I just know you could manage to get the point across without causing hurt”.

Gosh, that’s diplomatic.

“Have you ever thought that this person may just be very shy and intimidated by all your qualifications?”

Well no, I hadn’t thought of that. But now that you’ve mentioned it, I’ll have to review my harsh assessment of that person we were just discussing….

Offering criticism in such a positive way is a skill you can learn in school or in the great learning-place of life. Most of my elderly friends have learned at the latter, and that makes them experts.

Elderly people have tons of insight to share, if you’re willing to listen.

It may take a little time. They may have to insert a story from long ago, a memory of something or someone that helped them learn an important life lesson.

“I remember when…”

The moment you hear these words, you may think “Here goes another long story… how much time do I have?”

But chances are, whatever I’m about to learn is more than worth my time.

Elderly people keep in touch, sensing when you need them to call and make you laugh at life’s travails.

One moment I’m howling with pain, a long-term gift from a car accident. But minutes later, the phone rings and I’m howling with laughter.

It’s one of my old friends, telling me a dirty joke, knowing that I need to laugh.

When I reconsider, I think what I’m trying to say is that my elderly friends are wise and kind people. And that I’m blessed to have their friendship.

But, there is still that problem: the fact that they tend to die.

I should temper that blanket statement with this explanation: It’s not that they necessarily want to.

Some, though barely mobile, still love life. They love to do things, to hang out with their friends, to go shopping, to share a good joke. They’d like to stick around much longer.

But some people, it’s true, simply want to die. I had one such friend.

He was ill, with no improvement in sight. He depended on others to take him around, sometimes even to get from one room to another. He couldn’t enjoy the activities that gave him pleasure.

In some cases, there’s no-one left who shares the person’s memories. No-one to remember the people they grew up with, the times they lived. They’re left trying to explain an era to younger people like me, who love them but don’t remember.

Worse is when the person him/herself can’t remember. In their clear moments, they’re terrified of a future in which they’ve lost their ability to recognize loved ones, or even themselves.

Whatever the reason, they’ve had enough of living. They’re tired. It’s time to go.

I’ve come to understand this: the problem isn’t theirs.

It isn’t just that they die, or that one or two may really want to.

The problem is mine. That even as The Grim One makes his plans for us all, I love my friends, and I’m never quite ready to let them go, no matter what their age.

I have to work on that.

Luckily, some old friends will still be around — with wisdom to share. Bless their hearts.

In Memory of Harry.

A Good Home

Idiot-Proof Comfort Food

March 24, 2016March 24, 2016 Cynthia Reyes

For a few years now, I’ve been following two rules to improve my cooking, and save money at the same time:

Use simple recipes
Use what’s already in the fridge, freezer or pantry

The first recipe my friend John Garside taught me has just three ingredients.

“You can’t go wrong with this one!” he said.

“Wanna bet?” I asked. “I made a two-ingredient dish — cauliflower and cheese — and completely forgot the cheese!”

John just smiled a beatific smile.

“I’m serious,” I insisted. “My husband stopped me from cooking for years after the accident. I’d either forget the pot on the stove, or forget half the ingredients. Awful.”

“Just try this recipe,” John said. “And let me know.”

blog-photo-recipe-onions-in-dish

First, get about 3 or 4 medium size onions.

Then, 2 or 3 medium size sweet potatoes.

Then a can of chickpeas.

“Got that, Cynthia?”

“Yes, John.” I madly scribbled as he spoke.

“You can add seasonings if you wish, but not necessary… Now, slice up the onions and simmer them in a pot with a bit of oil or butter for one hour.”

“One hour?”

“No less than an hour.”

Hmmm…

“Peel and slice the potatoes, thinly.”

“How thinly?”

John held his thumb and forefinger slightly apart.

“Layer that on top of the onions and simmer for one hour.”

“One hour?”

“Yes, another hour. Then, rinse the chickpeas, add and simmer for an hour.”

“Another hour?”

“Yes. Do not try to hurry it up. It won’t taste as good.”

“Okay, John,” I said obediently.

“Ann and I call it ‘Fired Onions'”.

“Fired onions?”

Turns out, the name comes from when the couple stopped at a restaurant that had a sign saying “Fired Onions”. Someone misspelled the word ‘fried’.

“Now,” said John. “Remember what I told you: the burner must be at the lowest level. Not medium, not a bit low, but the lowest setting possible.”

“Okay, then!”

It worked! Thank you, John.

Photo by John Garside

A Good Home, Afternoon Tea, Friendship, Gardens

Wisdom, Foolishness and Joy

June 15, 2015June 15, 2015 Cynthia Reyes

Once in a while, I do something wise.

Such was the case when I invited some friends from church to our home.

“Come to afternoon tea”, I said. “On the verandah and in the garden.”

Of course, the plan was immediately followed by a piece of brash foolishness.

“I’m doing it all myself,” I proudly told my husband.

Silence.

By myself, I had rarely entertained more than one person at a time, afraid that I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“Okay,” he finally said.

Carefully, I made a menu, a shopping list and a detailed schedule.

Checked them a million times.

Tidied up the verandah.

And prayed for good weather.

Daughter and son-in-law kindly took the list and went shopping.

My good man left me alone to get everything ready.

Then he phoned: “Shall I pick up a couple quiches?”

“No,” I said. “I have enough food.”

“Hmmm…” he said.

The garden looked lovely.

Flowers bloomed.

Birds sang their welcome.

I took a deep breath.

Our guests were arriving.

My husband smoothly took over the greetings, drinks and garden tours.

In the kitchen, I smelled something delicious.

Quiches warming in the oven.

I started out very well.

But before long, our friends ordered me to rest. I wisely obeyed and everyone helped everyone else.

Everything unfolded according to plan, prayer and an abundance of good sense (not mine).

Perfect weather for garden-touring.

Happy and helpful guests and one very thoughtful husband.

There was also this frequent visitor.

And yes: the quiches were a hit.

It’s such a great blessing: having a caring church family to call our own.

For years we’d kept telling Claire, our priest: “We’d like to invite you and others to visit.”

But I simply hadn’t felt up to the task. So Claire wisely nudged us and last week, it finally happened.

Watching their happy faces made my husband and me happy.

We ended the party by saying ‘the grace’.

As we held hands and prayed, my cup ran over with joy.

Great thanks to photographer Gundy Schloen.

Tag: Friends

6 WAYS TO HELP A SICK/INJURED FRIEND

Like this:

Good Friends

Like this:

Idiot-Proof Comfort Food

Like this:

Wisdom, Foolishness and Joy

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this: