In defense of unreasonable behavior

My aunts, Margie and Velma, with their daddy, late 1930s

Sometimes, I do unreasonable things. When traveling, I choose out-of-the-way bed & breakfasts over handier hotels. When home, I secure Craigslist "deals" requiring Herculean retrieval efforts. Am I driven by the chase? Or am I, by nature, enchanted by convolution? (I recently reflected on Facebook that I "habitually complicate matters by exploring multiple options." My best friend suggested this would be a suitable epitaph for me.)

Whatever my issue, it often yields eternal blessings in the form of unforgettable experiences. Case in point: My insistence on visiting my aunts last June, with an overpacked truck, plus a tween and tot in tow. Let me unpack...

Last fall, my oldest daughter joined our church's Bible Quizzing team. Like many milestones in my firstborn's life, this precipitated a heap of nostalgia, since Bible Quizzing was a meaningful part of my own youth. I enthusiastically volunteered to help coach the team, another instance of  unreasonableness. As a working mother of four, the youngest of whom was a wee 6-week-old when the quizzing season started, I was hardly in a position to volunteer for anything "extra." Pish-posh -- I signed on anyway ... and "helped" to a greater or mostly lesser degree throughout the first 9 months of the quizzing year, September to May.

Come June, Nationals. Each summer one of the Free Methodist colleges, on a rotational basis, invites Bible Quizzing teams from throughout the denomination to gather for a grand tournament, testing teens' knowledge of the designated Scriptures (last year, the Gospel of John). It's really rather intense. Elite quizzers have memorized the text, word for word, from the New International Version of the Bible. Even rookie quizzers, like my Viv, have developed an impressive familiarity with the material, having been exposed to the questions and answers all school year at monthly, regional quiz meets.

That I fathomed it feasible to stroll my Delia-Doll into super-quiet quizzing rounds in stealthful support of our 2 teams was, well ... unreasonable. But I went anyway, and I did a lot of strolling -- outside the quizzing rooms, zig-zagging across the campus of Spring Arbor University, very thankful for the mild weather. (Summer in southern Michigan is not always so.)

When the long week of walking finally ended, I wanted to go home -- we all did. But, instead, I did something unreasonable: I packed up my stuff, Viv's stuff, Delia's stuff, plus some stuff the other quizzers couldn't quite cram into their car, and I went to visit my father's older sisters. I knew it wouldn't be easy. Several nights away from home had tired me out -- the girls, too -- and I knew there would be logistical challenges. By Saturday, seasonal temperatures had returned. Packing, unpacking and repacking the vehicle ... escorting both elderly aunts in and out of the truck ... guiding them safely to their lunchtime destination of choice, good ol' A&W -- frankly, it was a hassle. In the heat. But, I figured, how could I not? Aunt Marge and Uncle Dave lived a stone's throw from the route back to Albion; Aunt Velma lives a half hour beyond that. Note the verb tenses. When I went to see my aunt and uncle in Ypsi, I had no notion it would be the last time this side of heaven. Both -- yes, both! -- passed away last week.

I'm still shaking my head in disbelief, but it's true. I just returned from their double funeral less than 24 hours ago. Uncle Dave died on Monday, and Aunt Margie went to be with him on Wednesday, the physiological circumstances of which are unclear to me, as a non-medical professional. Dave had been ill for a while, but Marge seemed likely to follow in her mother's footsteps and reach her 90s. Other than her failing eyesight, she seemed reasonably healthy for her 76 years. But life is not always reasonable. And neither am I. The former truth leads to all sorts of pain and confusion. My own unreasonable act, in this case, leaves me with a precious memory.

Did we visit Aunt Velma one more time before we ended our surreal trip to Michigan? We'd have been crazy not to!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My condolences, especially, to my cousins Mark and Michelle and their children. (Imagine losing both parents and two grandparents at the same time!)

Major life lessons learned -- from Uncle Dave: Enjoy life, and for goodness' sake, keep your sense of humor! ... from Aunt Margie: Treasure your family and friends, and always send birthday cards (preferably with a few bucks tucked inside).