Aunt Charlotte’s Birthday

 (written sometime in 2011)

I remember when my Uncle Jerry had a birthday celebration for my Aunt Charlotte. A celebration of her first birthday, anyway. I’m not entirely sure of when her second birthday was, her spiritual birthday. At this point in her life, in the merciless clutch of Parkinson’s Disease, I’m not sure that she knows any more. I’m absolutely positive that my Uncle Jerry could tell you though. He can tell you everything about her. He has known her close to all of their lives. They fell in love somewhere in elementary school, I think. At least he did. Her daddy was his Sunday school teacher, and Jerry told him when he was a very young boy, “I’m going to marry Charlotte.” And marry her he did. He loved her all the way through junior high and high school. Dated and courted her through college and then fulfilled his promise to her daddy all those years ago and married her.

Jerry and Charlotte were always my favorite Aunt and Uncle, (my apologies to all the rest). They were young, energetic and oh so much fun. Jerry made everyone laugh and still can. Charlotte was beautiful and so very sweet. When I was a little girl I decided I wanted to grow up and be just like her. When my parents divorced and my daddy went to Vietnam, we went to live with my grandparents. Jerry and Charlotte were a steady presence in our lives. They were childless for years and loved us. Later they would adopt three incredibly fortunate children. When I was nine years old and on my first trip to church camp, it was Charlotte who knelt down in the sawdust with me as I prayed and asked Jesus Christ to come in to my heart and be my Lord and Savior. After my dad remarried, we moved away. When we came back from a three year tour in Germany, we all spent a week at Myrtle Beach with the extended family. There Jerry and Charlotte spent hours with my older sister Christie and me mentoring us spiritually. I didn’t realize then that they were awakening a spiritual hunger and thirst in me that would set the course of my life and determine the outcome of my children’s futures as well. Over the course of my life, I’ve been able to pay that investment forward many times over as we spent 18 plus years working in youth ministry. I believe that is how Jerry and Charlotte wanted it to be. I even chose the name that my grandchildren would call me because that is what Charlotte is called by hers. 

Jerry is the younger brother of my dad.  The two of them fought and argued with the best of them. They were champions at it, as a matter of fact. They were as different as night and day. If one said up, the other said down. They argued for the sake of argument. But they were brothers, and they loved each other. My memories of together time was laughter…well and some arguing of course. When my dad passed away and we went to North Carolina for the memorial service, we were able to spend some time with my dad’s little brother. There we discovered how much Parkinson’s was stealing away our sweet Charlotte from us. It broke my heart. Sitting on their back porch, holding her hand on the porch swing, we were reminiscing about old times. I asked her if she remembered being with me when I got saved. She smiled at me and squeezed my hand. She said, “Why yes, I think I do remember that. It was up at camp, wasn’t it?” I kissed her cheek, nodded, tears in my eyes. One year later, when we made another visit, she not only didn’t remember that event, she wasn’t even sure that she remembered me.

Months have passed since that visit, and Jerry lets us know she is declining rapidly. My heart is heavy for him. I pray for comfort for his heart and for his children. She’s still a beautiful woman, just 68 years old. When we were there last, he humbly told us the story of his journey to this place where he now is. How that God spoke so clearly to his heart, telling him that he was about to embark upon a journey that he was not prepared for. Jerry said God warned him, quite clearly, that he would need to be ready to release it all. Face the facts that he would have to be as humble as he could be, let go of all of his pride. Realize that this was not going to be about him, and not going to be his way. He said, “All of my life I have had a godly woman in my life taking care of me. First my mother, then Charlotte. I’ve never had to take care of myself. Now I have to watch my precious Charlotte slowly become more and more helpless. And I have had to step up and be the one to take care of her. I have to trust God that He will carry me and comfort me and support me. Lay aside my pride, my ugly pride that says I don’t deserve this. God, why me?” He went on to tell us that in all of their struggles, Charlotte had maintained her beautiful testimony and love for Jesus. Whenever she would start to act ugly, Jerry would just remind her of how Christ would want her to act, and she would calmly say, “Oh, Jerry. Jesus wouldn’t want me to act that way, would He?”

Jerry is now praying that God will be merciful and take his sweet, beautiful wife home soon. I can barely write now for the tears. What a homecoming that will be. I know we all believe we have two birthdays: our physical and our spiritual. I’m beginning to think we have a third: our heavenly birthday also. We get a new body, a new home and a new future.

This was not the most eloquently written, nor the best structured. But it is a heartfelt testimony to what a difference a person can make in the life of another.  It is a picture of God’s grace in the darkest part of our lives. It is a reminder that what we are living now is just for a moment, but eternity is our true reality. We are only here but for a moment, what we do while we are here will impact others long after we are gone.

From one Nonni to another: I love you. You impacted my life.

My incredible, godly, beautiful Aunt Charlotte has been with her beloved Savior for some years now. God healed her broken body, gave her a clear mind and she is basking in His presence. I am grateful beyond words for the Blessed Hope and assurance that we will all be together again. Thank You for the cross.