When Words Alone Are Not Enough

I have been struggling for more than a week now to find the words to express my love and gratitude for an extraordinary person named Judy Stevenson,  someone who at times was almost like a second mother to me.  I have tried again and again to forge words that were worthy of the task, only to delete each failed attempt.   It only now occurs to me that this is where I should have begun my attempts-  with the notion that sometimes mere words are not nearly enough to encapsulate our feelings or to adequately express them.    The piece I just composed for the Kenosha school district’s 50th Choral Fest,  “One More Reason To Sing” includes these lyrics:   “when words alone are not enough … to express our joy, our grief, our love ….”

Judy Stevenson was someone I got to know when my family moved from Decorah, Iowa to Atlantic, Iowa in the summer of 1974.    I was a scared, nerdy, awkward bookworm – and I could not have been sadder or more worried about this move.   But fortunately,  some incredibly exciting and life-changing experiences would make those years in Atlantic a very special time in my life.  And one of the people most instrumental was Judy Stevenson (‘Jude’ to me.)  She was the funniest adult – by far – I had ever met …. with an absolutely incredible ability to relate to young people of all stripes – whether you were the quarterback of the football team or the shy klutz on the chess club.   She was lavish with her love and had this knack of making you feeling like you were really special and maybe even “cool” in your own way, even if the whole rest of the world didn’t seem to think so.  I should add that it’s not that I didn’t get plenty of affirmation from my own mom,  but somehow it doesn’t mean nearly so much when your own mom says that you’re special and wonderful. That’s their job, after all!  But there was something about Jude that made me feel like I belonged-  and part of it was the loving, light-hearted way that she would talk about my klutziness or other characteristics that I wished I could somehow wish out of existence.   She appreciated me – and was deeply interested in me.  But it wasn’t just me.  She had this inexhaustible reservoir of love for all of the young people in her life.  Hal told me that one of his happiest recent memories of Jude was on one of the last Sundays she was able to be in church,  when he went looking for her after church and found her surrounded by all kinds of young people who just couldn’t face the rest of the day without having a little time with Jude!  And when you think about how she lived her life in that generous way over the course of decades,  it becomes truly staggering to think of all of the young people whose live’s were changed for the better because of her.

We had not seen each other regularly over the last several decades,  but we had stayed in touch via phone calls,  Christmas letters and the like.  Hal and Jude made it to our wedding in 1991 (despite the fact that it was a really scary time at Hal’s place of employment.  That they were willing to take off a day of work at a moment when things were so terribly precarious there spoke volumes about their love and generosity.)  And several years back,  Kathy and I had a delightful time going to a Packers game with Hal and Jude – even though it was a pre-season rout at the hands of the Patriots, and Mother Nature drenched us with a fourth quarter downpour.  It was wonderful fun all the same.)

Jude had been hammered with some fairly serious heath issues in recent years,  but in no way did they lay her low.  She kept on living her life with remarkable vibrancy- thanks in no small measure to Hal’s devoted care.  And whenever I would call (I had their phone number memorized without it even being on speed dial)  it would feel like no time at all had elapsed.  She would ask me to tell her everything going on in my life –  and Kathy’s – and my family’s – and Marshall’s …. because she genuinely wanted to know.

When I learned that Judy Stevenson   had died – and that her funeral was going to fall on Saturday the 28th of February, when I had the unbreakable commitment of overseeing “Fiddler on the Roof” auditions at the Racine Theater Guild, meaning that I couldn’t be there – I was swept with miserable feelings of regret.  After all that she had done for me over the years,  I just couldn’t conceive of missing something so important.   But there was no possible way for these auditions to be rescheduled and this was a commitment I simply had to honor.   But I also knew that there were no words I could say to her husband Hal or to her children Mark, Stacy, Sharmi, Cami and Mike – in a Facebook post or blog or sympathy card or phone call – that could hope to express even a sliver of my indebtedness and appreciation for all that she had done for me and meant to me.   And this is why I decided that I still needed to make the trip to Atlantic, Iowa- even if it couldn’t be for the funeral itself.  It felt like a slightly crazy thing to do,  but I am so grateful to Kathy for cutting short my hemming and hawing when I first haltingly brought up the idea – saying with firm conviction “You have to do this. That’s all there is to it.”    And thanks to family friend and travel agent extraordinaire Jane Nichols Becker,  I found a round trip plane ticket to Omaha that made it a short trip doable.

When I first told Cami – the youngest of the Stevenson children,  who is a Facebook friend of mine – that I was going to be coming down,  I really had no firm idea of just what I was going to do once I got there.   I didn’t want to be underfoot as they took care of various arrangements – and chances are there would be plenty of well-wishers stopping by, so it’s not like I was going to be filling some lonely void.  This is a beloved family with a extensive network of community and church friends that I knew were already reaching out to them.  What would I have to add?  What could I offer?   All I knew was that maybe it would have something to do with singing.  I told Cami that maybe I could sing something for her and her dad and whatever other family would be around.  But exactly when and where and what?  I had almost no idea.

Well, God moves in mysterious ways … and what began as hardly anything more than a vague notion actually became a really special time of fellowship that I hope made a difference in their lives.   I arrived in Atlantic Thursday afternoon – spent a few minutes at the Stevenson’s house,  sitting in that same living room where I had spent uncountable hours over the years – and then gathered with the family that evening at 7:30 in the sanctuary of their church for an informal time of music and reflection and sharing.   Jody Stevenson (a daughter in law) said afterwards that one of the best things about it was that there was almost nothing set in stone – no carefully laid plans – no elaborate orchestration (which one needs for anything that’s a large operation involving a lot of people.) This was just a few friends and family gathered together to remember someone- to share stories- and songs- and to allow God’s tender grace to do its work.

And that’s what happened.   I sang some songs that I remember singing for Jude or that I knew she liked a lot – some of which most of the people there were able to join in on.  I also offered up a couple of my own songs that felt appropriate for the moment (like “Come unto me” and “Mercy and Love” and “Strength.”)  I think the very first song I sang in that time was Honeytree’s “Live for Jesus,”  which a dear friend of mine (and Jude’s) always referred to as “the Rock Song.”   The refrain is:  “Live for Jesus!  That’s what matters! And when other houses crumble, mine is strong.”   It did my heart such good as I sang that song to hear the Stevensons joining in joyously – even in the midst of their grief.  From there, we sang together several songs from way way back from when I was part of a group called The Now Disciples.  A couple of these songs I hadn’t played in at least a quarter century,  but it’s incredible how a really great song can really attach itself to your soul and never release its hold.  I especially loved a moment when I started playing a Bill and Gloria Gaither’s “God gave the Song” – in part because dear family friend Sherry Nichols was there, and she was the person who sang that song the first time I heard it back in 1975 …. 40 years earlier!   Its lyrics were so perfect for the moment:  “You ask me why my heart keeps singing – why I can sing when things go wrong.   But since I’ve found the Source of music,  I just can’t help it!  God gave the Song.”   And interspersed with the songs were stories shared amongst us – some fairly serious,  some hilariously funny – all shared from the heart.  There was laughter- tears- some closing prayers- the doxology ….    and there was time!   There was no place else any of us needed to be.  It was a blessed time for the Holy Spirit to do its healing, comforting work ….. and to be even a tiny part of that was nothing less than a privilege.  And if I was sad to miss her funeral – attended by hundreds of loved ones – it was just as meaningful to be there in this smaller, more intimate setting.

I am thankful that some of the Nichols family could also be there-  since so many of their lives have been intertwined with the  Stevensons over the years.  And the next morning, out at Jane’s lovely home in the country,  I was so happy for the chance to reconnect with Jane, Sherry and Allison – which made me even more grateful to have made the trip.  It was one more way to celebrate one of life’s most precious gifts: our special friends, who so often find their way into our lives (and us into theirs) just when we need them most.   And when it comes right down to it,  those kind of friends are really another kind of family.   I think of a touching line from the last episode of The Mary Tyler Moore Show,  when Mary tells her coworkers in the newsroom “what is a family?  It’s the people who make you feel less alone ….. and really loved.  Thank you for being my family.”

(left:  with Hal.  middle: with Cami.  right:  This wonderful floral arrangement consists of each of the flowers which Hal gave to Jude on each of their wedding anniversaries-  gathered together in this beautiful display of their love and devotion to each other.)

(This photo shows the empty spot at the front of their church’s sanctuary.  This is where Jude would always be for Sunday morning worship – This was the place left open to accommodate her motorized scooter.  That empty space represents the loss to us that Jude’s death represents.  She was irreplaceable.  But she was also an incredible inspiration- and her legacy lives on vibrantly. )