Reflections From The Kitchen Sink on My Hero

My Hero

By: Melinda Campbell

“My sister, I need you to do something for me,” Shelly texted me.

Shelly is a friend of mine who lives in Oklahoma. We text regularly. We’ve only actually seen each other a few times, but she and I clicked and have a “thing” now.

We pick on each other a lot. 2015 was a trying year for the two of us, but our has-been coach personas keep us on our toes. “Never let them see you sweat” and such. Too much at stake to not present the A-game. We are highly competitive even via message. We type a lot of smack for two old fogeys.

With the “I need you to do something for me,” my mind instantly recalled another conversation that started similarly. Shelly wanted me to drive to Oklahoma and make her teenaged daughter clean her room. We both had a good laugh about that. We kid around a lot. It’s just how we roll. I have randomly messaged that sweet child words of encouragement, but that wasn’t on the agenda this day.

Instead of asking me for a cross-country jaunt to tie a knot in someone’s tail, her request continued, “I’m making some arrangements. I really would like for you to say something at my funeral if you can please. Will you do that for me?”

For a moment, my heart skipped and I found myself needing to sit down. Shelly had had some extra health issues lately, so I immediately was worried.

I finally got strength in my thumbs and replied, “I would do my best. Don’t be making crazy arrangements though. We still have stuff to do.”

She told me she didn’t think she had much time left. I told her she was going to have to get over herself and hunker down because we weren’t even in the fourth quarter much less overtime. We were back in our groove by this point, so, temporarily at least, the pressure was off. It didn’t take long for it to revisit my heart and mind though.

Shelly and I met in 2015 about six months after Michael was killed and six months before the health diagnosis that would rock her world. We attended a ladies’ conference and stayed in the same cabin in the Smoky Mountains. I don’t remember a lot about those few days. The grief fog had consumed me, and other than a few God moments that took me to my knees, I wasn’t on top of things. Shelly connected with me though.

By Christmas of that year, Shelly would receive a diagnosis that would push her to her physical limit and force her onto a transplant list. She had months to live without two new lungs. Her story captivated many of us from the conference, and there was fervent prayer and a trip to Oklahoma for a few of the ladies that would start a domino effect most people couldn’t even begin to fathom. Shelly got her new lungs on her 44th birthday in May of 2016.

We were together again in November of that year. Some might think I’m a fruit loop—and some days, I guess I am—but I will never forget the Lord telling me to get up and walk across the very crowded room to Shelly and hug her. It was in that moment that our friendship shifted gears. The walls came down, and we stopped playing nice. To some that is strange, but, again, it’s just how Shelly and I roll.

She will message griping about something, and I will message back saying, “Don’t make me come pop your face mask!”

I will be in a rut, and she will tell me to pull up my granny panties and get over myself. She even gave me a sign to that effect that hangs on my bathroom mirror.

How’s that for love and compassion? It isn’t trendy anymore to ask “What would Jesus do?” That’s probably a good thing since Jesus doesn’t get snarky in the Bible I read. We know what we are doing though.

When at age 49 I was in my first pageant and earned a crown, she was one of the first to call me “Queen.” I regularly refer to her as “Wonder Woman” because of the strength and tenacity Shelly demonstrates in her walk. We lift each other up sometimes…we just get back to the kick-in-the-behind mode pretty quickly.

During her transplant surgery, the docs had to scoot her heart over because it was so big. There really isn’t any surprise with that as she demonstrates such a huge love for others every single day.

Not too many texts down from her request for me to speak at her funeral, she asked me to pray for her that she would latch onto her God-called purpose for however many days she has left. She wants to be utilized for His service until her very last moment here on Earth. That is the real deal, people.

Oh, the value of that example. Shelly has taught me so much in such a short time. She tells me all the time that I’m her hero, but bottom line is she is one of mine and one to so many more in her world there in Oklahoma, throughout our Stronger sisterhood, and to so many who have heard the whole story behind that transplant.

If we could all have the Shelly drive, the world would certainly be a better place.

When Shelly reads this, she will tear up for a minute then come off with some criticism to jab just a bit. That’s okay. I told her I would still remind her I can take her whether it is a ball game or a game of UNO. She will come back with a Candyland challenge. She always tries to one-up me.

So I will finish my time at the sink this morning, praying for my pal while drinking coffee out of an OU Sooners mug. The things I do for Wonder Woman…

Look for your purpose today. Make a difference in someone’s life. Be a hero. Be like Shelly. The world will thank you for it, and so will I.

Until next time…

 

#reflectionsfromthekitchensink

Bio; Melinda Campbell is a retired educator who currently focuses her efforts on raising her two teenaged boys, advocating for individuals with special needs and against drunk driving, and serving in her local community. Melinda has been gaining recognition for her writings labeled “Reflections from my Kitchen Sink” since the tragic death of her husband Michael in 2015. In her stories, she shares observations from her daily life including moments she has as a solo parent, a widow, and a woman who battles significant health issues including fibromyalgia and depression. Her goal is to encourage others through the experiences that are common to so many. Her practical approach to life’s obstacles has become a weekly mainstay for her readers from across the country.