Ruby's Job

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

Romans 8:26-27

There are days and circumstances that words simply escape you; you just don’t know quite what to say. We have all been there, and we have all experienced that from time to time. We also have those incredible and very free souls in our lives that leave us absolutely speechless. On those days we pray that the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we just really do not know what to say.

My incredible bride and I met early in our freshman year at college. At first, we were very close friends, but really had no romantic interest in each other. That first Christmas break when we spent several weeks apart put our relationship in a whole new perspective, and helped us to appreciate our love for one another in a way that has grown ever since.

Even before that realization, however, we were spending incredible amounts of time with each other, and often visiting each other’s friends and families. I had spent many evenings with her and her grandparents who also lived in Charlotte, where we went to school. I liked them; they reminded me of my own grandparents.

Numerous times her grandfather and I would sit in the living room and talk while Emma and her grandmother chatted in the kitchen. I can’t really explain why, but he and I seemed to really connect with one another and just enjoyed spending time in each other’s company. Unfortunately, that did not last as long as I would have liked.

When Emma left on Christmas break we had become close friends who genuinely enjoyed spending a lot time with each other.  During the course of that break both of us began to recognize a significant vacuum in our lives that could only be filled with each other. As she was returning from England after that break I called her grandparents to offer to pick her up. I used the excuse of bad weather, which was true enough, but the real reason was how much I had missed her and wanted to see her as soon as possible. Fortunately, her grandparents readily agreed to me picking her up from the airport; our reunion was sweet and incredible.

Not long after Emma had returned from England her father also came to spend time with Emma and her grandparents; this was my first opportunity to meet the man that would one day be my father-in-law. We got along amazingly well, as I had with Emma’s grandparents already. However, what seems like only days after Emma’s dad arrived from England, her grandfather suddenly and unexpectedly died.

Emma’s pain was palpable, and I was humbled that our relationship had grown to the point that she sought me out for comfort in her moment of grief. I too felt a sense of loss for the man that I was just getting to know well, and I longed to know even better. He had reminded me of so many in my own family. He was genuine and approachable. I felt from him and Emma’s grandmother alike a sense of appreciation that I had become a part of their granddaughter’s life. Now, I mourned the relationship that could have gone so much further, as we each bid fare well to Emma’s grandfather.

It was several days following Emma’s grandfather’s death before a funeral was able to be conducted; one of the most important people to be there also had to come from England, Emma’s sister, Lizzy.  Additionally, other family came from all across North and South Carolina, and further to say goodbye to a dear man loved by so many.

When Emma’s sister arrived from England, she and I were sent to pick up Lizzy from the airport; everyone else was heavily involved in the planning for her grandfather’s funeral. Lizzy had just found out about her grandfather’s death before she boarded an airplane to come to the US for the funeral. She had no real time to process what was happening, and when she arrived she was way beyond the definition of tired. She was not only physically exhausted, she was also emotionally exhausted.

Emma and I borrowed her grandfather’s car to pick Lizzy up, a Dodge Omni, or “Om-ma-nee” as her grandfather had pronounced it several times for me. As soon as we left the airport to return to the house Lizzy assumed a fetal position of sleep in the back seat and continued to catch up on some much needed sleep. Unfortunately, Charlotte traffic is not always the most hospitable and cooperative, and as usual we ran into some significant traffic on our return trip. At one point, a car suddenly and unexpectedly braked in front of my causing me to have to do the same; Lizzy quickly became one with the floorboard of the backseat of the Omni. She used a lot of language that probably should not find its way into these pages to help me understand exactly how little she thought of that happening; I endeavored to allow a wider berth for the balance of our journey back to the house.

During all that was going on, I was meeting an endless stream of people from Emma’s family that she had rarely seen because she grew up outside the US. However, I was meeting them all for the first time. It was awkward and uncomfortable to be so intimately intertwined in a family, experiencing such an incredible amount of grief when I really only knew one person there, and I had only known her for less than six months. However, at the same time, it was incredibly gratifying to be so warmly welcomed by this family as they each universally recognized how much Emma and I meant to one another. It was such an affirmation on our growing love and relationship that when I was invited to ride with Emma to the funeral with her family. I eagerly agreed and joined them.

Emma’s family, as I discovered in this time with her, grieves out loud. I do not mean the loud and mournful wailing that may accompany some families at a death; I mean instead the loud and boisterous laughter of a family who loves to be in each other’s company.

Most funeral homes are somber and serene places where the vast majority of the people there are attempting to maintain a level of silence that would ensure the dead person stays asleep; this is not the case with Emma’s family. If anything, it would seem that they are attempting to wake the dead.

All during the visitation at the funeral home it was interesting to note the look on the various funeral directors’ faces. Emma’s family was telling stories of all that had happened in their family over the years. They shared stories of their times at the home “in the country”, times at the beach, times on various trips, and just about any other story you could think of. They especially wanted to bring me up to speed on what it meant to be part of this family. Each story was loud and boisterous as it seemed a competition existed in filling in the details, and the whole thing was accompanied by tremendous amounts of laughter. The funeral directors each seemed uncomfortable and anxious since all the other families using the funeral home that night were as quiet as church mice. For Emma’s family, they kept making sure that the doors stayed closed to try to contain some of the hilarity. It was probably one of the most healing visitations that I have ever been to.

Following visitation, funeral, and burial I was invited to another of Emma’s family traditions, going to the fish camp. Where I had grown up, going to the fish camp was next to going to church as far as sacred events; I was not going to miss this.

Fish camps are pretty much all constructed the same way. They have all sorts kitschy decorations around of all things nautical like ship’s helms and compasses, various seagoing pictures, and often even wait staff dressed as pirates. The tables inevitably have a red and white checkered tablecloth over Formica tables. The chairs are standard wooden ladder back chairs, and all drinks are served in clear or red plastic tumblers. You don’t even need to order it because hush puppies will be delivered to every table along with generous helpings of a butter-like substance. It is AWESOME, and this one did not let me down with tradition; it was all there.

As we gathered at the fish camp I met one of the most incredible people ever, Emma’s great-aunt Ruby. Ruby was Emma’s grandmother’s older sister, and was probably one of the most uninhibited people that I have ever come across in my life; she was exactly what Emma’s grandmother needed at that time to help her grieve her husband’s death.

Throughout the evening Emma sat beside me, but Ruby was on the other side. The more beers that Ruby drank the more she flirted with me; that was a little odd. I suspect most people there thought I had a pretty bad sunburn because I was blushing the entire evening from her aunt’s advances. On the other side of Ruby sat Emma’s grandmother who went back and forth the entire evening between laughing at Ruby’s antics and trying to rein her in some; that was a lost cause. Ruby was most definitely her own person and no one was ever going to rein her in.

Ruby was already a little over 70-years-old at this point and had been a widow herself for a number of years. However, she still actively worked. The one thing that Ruby wouldn’t say though is what she did, but boy did she laugh about it.

Ruby talked about having a number of “free samples” from her employer, but never talked about who her employer was or what the product was. Everyone else, but me, seemed to know exactly where Ruby worked and what she did, but they were not saying a word. Ruby even offered at one point to empty out one of the hush puppy baskets and fill it with “free samples” and pass it around the table; Emma’s grandmother all but begged her not to. I spent the balance of our meal trying to figure out the puzzle of this conversation, but I was able to discern nothing.

As we walked out of the fish camp after dinner Emma was on my arm and Ruby walked, rather unsteadily, nearby. Ruby came close, and slipped her hand in the hip pocket of my jeans, putting something in my pocket. As she did that did that she whispered in my ear, “Here Darlin’, you might want this later on.”

I didn’t even look to see what she put in my pocket until we were long gone; I was still trying to process Emma’s great-aunt basically groping my butt. Of all the things you may expect at a family gathering that is not typically on the list. What I found in my pocket, however, took it to a whole new level.

After we left the parking lot I finally pulled out what Ruby left in my pocket when Emma and I were alone in the car. Ruby had placed a premium, lamb skin condom in my pocket. How I maintained bladder control and did not crash the car at that moment is anyone’s guess. What I came to learn was that Ruby had recently gotten a job at the local Trojan factory as a quality assurance inspector. Yep, basically this septuagenarian was a condom tester.

As odd of an occasion as this may seem, it was exactly what Emma, her grandmother, her sister, and all needed. They all laughed harder than they had in a long time. They all left that evening after watching Ruby interact with me and watching me try to figure out what on earth this woman was talking about with a significant weight lifted off them. Ruby was the comic relief and I was her foil. I was left, however, completely speechless, but deeply loved.