Late Can Be Good

Food insecurity, even in a wealthy county or on good college campuses, is a dirty little secret prevalent in our communities. Look up food pantries and you will see the effort that is being made to help adults, children, and students not go to bed hungry.

 Recently, I took part of a bonus given by my generous employer and bought groceries at a local store. Mostly canned goods and fruits, cereals, water and personal hygiene items. I broke the items into a number of cardboard boxes, and put the boxes in the back of my SUV with the plan that, whenever I saw a need, I would gift a box of food.

This weekend, I was down to four boxes. On the internet, I learned about the wonderful mission of One Generation Away that has been distributing food, questions unasked, for years. This Saturday morning, they were scheduled to have a busload of food distributed at Grace Chapel in Leiper’s Fork. 

Unfortunately, I slept in due to a tough week. After morning basics, and a couple of runs to town, I headed out to Leiper’s Fork to donate my remaining boxes of food. Dang, in the rain, I arrived a bit late and the truck was already gone. There was a wedding about to start, however, at the Chapel. Looked like fun.

My fall-back plan was to take the boxes of food to GraceWorks in Franklin near Tractor Supply. Thankfully, there were a number of teenagers working in the back of the building who gladly accepted my food donation. I am certain those items will end up helping others. 

On my way out, I could not help but notice the flowers placed at each gravesite of Williamson Memorial  Gardens cemetery. I drove through the hallowed grounds and read some of the markers. It is amazing to me how many folks live well into their nineties!

 I thought of the lovely poem written by Linda Ellis, The Dash. The message is that our birthdate and our death date are not as important as the time between the two … the dash between those dates … what have we done with our lives. Worth pondering, indeed.

How does this tie me back to Duchenne and my very smart grandson Hayes? I reflect on the progression above: identify a good cause; take affirmative steps to help the cause; give more than enough; do not let any good go to waste; community will help; remembering and revering good souls gone past preserves the authenticity of the moment; do not take anything for granted; and, persist in getting good results. Oh, and did I include – pray, read scripture, and pray some more.  

My food donation did nothing to help cure Duchenne. It had no effect on my grandson or his deadly condition. Nonetheless, the effort reminds me that there are lab clinicians, medical providers, non-profits, financial sponsors, parents, and young people whose lives are driven by the hope that Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy will have its own gravesite one day. My prayer is that the dash left behind by the dream killer does not include too many more souls hungry for a more normal future.

Kindly,

Papa in Tennessee