Saying Goodbye

I pulled up my schedule on the computer and looked at it.  On the left were patient names and to the right were the reasons for their visits.

I scanned over them and a couple jumped out at me.  One was woman in her thirties and the other was a man in his nineties, both coming in for the same reason.  "Just wants to say good-bye to Dr. Waldron."

It is hard to believe that there is only about a week until I am done seeing patients at Comprehensive Health Care -- a place where I have practiced medicine for the last sixteen and a half years.  Our family is moving to Virginia to get closer to family, but part of my heart will always reside here.

I didn't know much about southern Indiana when I came to visit seventeen years ago, but over the time since, I have grown to love its beauty.  Whether it is the sun poking its head above the edge of Patoka Lake at Jackson Boat Ramp, or the same sun setting behind the Pete Dye Golf Course, or a misty morning at Tucker Lake, there has been more than enough to keep my eyes filled with the beauty and my camera busy.

But that's not really what I'll miss.

You see, a community is made of people and when you are a family doc, you have the privilege of walking beside people in that community through hard times and seeing them come out the other side.  You get to be present for a baby's first cry and for a 90 year old's last breath -- and lots of other stuff in between.

The biggest challenge, I suppose, is being a little light in the darkest of situations.

All of that is to say that I will miss the people of Paoli.  The crotchety old men and the sweet old ladies, the children who scream when they see me and the ones who give me hugs when they leave -- all of them have a place in my heart that won't be lost. 

Even now, I pray for them -- for each one of them.  I'm not one of their parents, but I care and that won't change just because I'm moving away.

As I leave Paoli, I have a lot of pictures of the beauty around here, but more important is that I have a mind that is full to the brim with the memories of laughter and tears and prayers shared with wonderful people who let me into their hearts more than just a little bit.

It is the people who make a community -- not the splendor or grandeur of its scenery.

It is them that I will miss.

The Best Thing About Heaven?

"You know one of the best things about heaven?"  My son, Vince asked me.

""What?"  I replied.  I know a lot of good things about heaven, but Vince's mind doesn't always come up with the same sort of things that I would think of.

"Poison Ivy and Poison Oak won't make us itch in heaven!"  Vince answered, very seriously.

"Oh," I said.  I've heard discussions of whether or not dogs and cats go to heaven, but never whether or not there will be poison ivy there.  I guess I always just thought it wouldn't be.  Just like ticks and mosquitoes won't be there either.

But Vince is right.  If there is Poison Ivy in heaven, it won't make us itch.

There were many effects of the fall in the Garden of Eden and most of them have to do with nature working differently than it was intended.  Insects carry diseases and bite and sting us and certain plants make us itch.  Lots of other things have changed and none of them for the better.  Disease wasn't a problem before then and now it clearly is.

In the book of Revelation, Jesus speaks of heaven and says "Behold, I am making all things new."  (21:5).  Maybe this is speaking of completely new species of plants and animals, but to me, it is more a statement of a re-creation of what Creation was first intended to be -- a place of beauty, peace, and perfection, a place where everything goes according to God's plan and there is no sin.

That is what heaven is to me.  While I don't know the names of all the plants that will be there, what I do know is that everyone of them will serve its purpose perfectly.

Even Poison Ivy (if it really is there).

Helping a Song Sparrow Sing

"Dad, I saw a Blue Bird nesting today in the little bird house," my son Vince told me, seriously.

"Be careful not to disturb them," I said.  "We want them to be OK raising their babies there."

"Dad," Vince said.  "Birds don't have babies, they have fledglings.  People have babies."

"Oh," I said.  I haven't used the word fledgling for awhile.  I guess I'll start now.

"When I was walking out there," Vince told me.  "I saw a Song Sparrow.  I gave him a compliment."

"Really?"

"Yes, I told him that his song was beautiful."

Now, I don't know how much English Song Sparrows actually speak and I am sure that it makes no difference at all to them what an eight year old boy says about their song.  They sing because that's the way God made them.  At the same time, it is a blessing to share a compliment with someone.

I suppose it is one of those things that some people are better at than others.  It starts with noticing something that is well done or seeing someone who made an extra effort with something.

What you don't notice, you won't compliment.

It shouldn't stop with seeing.  It must then result in us bringing attention to it in a positive way.

I'm afraid that it is awfully easy to miss areas in our coworkers and children's lives that deserve encouragement.  It is even easier just not say anything about things we do see than to say "Good job!"

It is so worth sharing the positives we see in those around us.

You never know when someone is having a bad day and is just ready to give up, sure that no one notices how hard they are working or, the effort they are putting in.  Your compliment could lift their spirits and keep them going.

Or help a Song Sparrow sing extra well.

Who knows?

Helping Birds

"You really like birds, Vince," his Aunt Amy said to him.

"Yes, Aunt Amy," Vince said looking up from the bird book he was studying.  "Birds are so beautiful.  I am glad that God created them.  And many of them are helpful too."

"Do you want to be an ornithologist when you grow up?"  Amy asked Vince.  This is perhaps an odd question.  Must eight year olds think they want to be firemen or astronauts when they grow up, but Vince is more focused on wildlife.

Vince considered the question seriously for a few moments.  "Well, Aunt Amy," he said.  "I think I would rather help endangered birds.  I would like to help them so that their habitat is not lost and they do not become extinct.  I will never see a Passenger Pigeon and that makes me sad."

"Would you like to help birds like the Whooping Crane?"  I asked, curious about this endeavor.

"No, Dad," Vince said.  "I am not interested in helping the Whooping Crane.  It is endangered, but I would rather help birds like the Greater Prairie Chicken, which used to live around here.  The Whooping Crane does not live around here."

Amy laughed.  "Well, I guess that makes sense," she said.  "You should focus your resources on things you can really change."

I don't know what Vince will do when he grows up, but right now his desire is to try to restore wetlands and meadows for the birds he loves to see and study.

I am struck by his focus on the birds that he thinks he could help.  Birds that live in the Midwest, rather than those in the Brazilian rain forest are reachable for him.

It is awfully easy to focus on those in need who live far away.  There are starving children in Africa and people contracting mosquito borne illnesses across Central and South America and we should give liberally to try to help their needs, but we must not ignore the people in need in our own communities.

It starts with seeing needs, but it needs to go from there.  To see the need is a start, but then we need to make the attempt to meet it.

Because the easiest people to impact are those we come in contact with every day, just like the easiest birds to help are those who live close to us.

Like the Greater Prairie Chicken.