Letters To Lyla

Dear Lyla,

Friendship is one of life’s blessings that I am most grateful for. I think we learn how to be good friends from our parents. We watch how they treat others and we emulate our friendships after their behavior. When you are older if someone asks you “what do you remember about your mom?” I hope that one of the things you will be able to say is “she was kind to others, she was a good friend.” My daddy, your Bumpa, taught me a lot about what it means to be a good friend. I wish I would have realized the value of this lesson when I was a lot younger, but I digress, let me tell you about Bumpa & Chuck. When I was little we used to travel to Madison, MN on holidays to visit my grandma Lyla, my great grandma Susie and my aunt Nancy and her kids. Without exception, my dad would stop and visit a man named Charles, or “Chuck.” I remember that Chuck was soft spoken, quiet and was always smiling (he would break out in an especially wide, lopsided grin when Bumpa came to visit). My daddy would greet Chuck with enthusiasm, ask him about his day, and stuff a five or ten dollar bill into his hand. It wasn’t until years later that I came to understand that Chuck was mentally challenged and that he and Bumpa had been friends since my daddy was a teenager. I do not remember if it was my mother or my grandmother who told me about how they came to be friends, it wasn’t Bumpa who told me; that I know for sure. It is my understanding that the other teens used to tease Chuck because he was different; he talked slower, walked slower and couldn’t read well. But I guess your Bumpa didn’t care about any of that; he thought Chuck was nice and deserved to have a friend. My daddy started standing up for Chuck and the other teens stopped teasing him. To my knowledge Chuck was Bumpa’s oldest friend and he never missed the opportunity to visit with him when he had the chance. These visits were full of ritual; there would be a handshake, a cup of coffee, a crisp five or ten dollar bill and a long visit (usually Bumpa did most of the talking; he was a story teller and Chuck enjoyed listening to his tales). You may be thinking, “why the money?” I used to think that too, I asked my mom about it once. She said that Chuck didn’t have a lot of money when he was younger and that Bumpa would give him a little extra when he had it (times were tight back when Bumpa was a teen so this was a sacrifice indeed). Bumpa found out that Chuck always bought something for others first before spending it on himself. He might buy a bag of candy for someone in the nursing home or a handkerchief for a friend who needed one, but he always shared what he had. I think it touched Bumpa that Chuck would always think of others before himself, this is part of what made him so special. From that day Bumpa made sure he always had money when he went to visit Chuck. Bumpa and Chuck were friends until the day my daddy went to heaven. I remember the day I went to visit Chuck shortly after my daddy died, I had never seen a grown man weep before. Before long Chuck was rattling on about the good times that he and Bumpa had when they were younger. As I stood up to leave I reached out to Chuck, gave him a hug and slipped into his hand a ten dollar bill that had been in my daddy’s wallet.  I want you to know little one that friends come in all shapes, sizes and abilities. Each one of us is unique and has something to offer the world. My hope is that you are able to look beyond the surface and  recognize a kindred spirit when you see one. Friendship is truly one of the greatest gifts we can receive and I pray that you will be both a recipient and giver of such a precious treasure.