Lately, most of my evenings are spent volunteering at a local center for children who have had a member of their family die. Before you spend the next thirty seconds building me up as a person who is self sacrificing, funny, and attractive…why is she still single??!! Please know that my degree plan requires that I have 700 hours of client contact, spent at an internship, so do I “volunteer”? Well, when I am talking to a boy I could potentially be kissing later… Yes, I volunteer, something like 80 hours a week, on top of my workouts, and culinary skills, but, in all actuality we know that is a slight exaggeration. Those who know me best recognize that my time there has shaped the person I am becoming and has helped me see the importance of service, but they will also openly proclaim that I lack the social awareness or selflessness necessary to spend my time volunteering. I guess all I am trying to say is it wasn’t some Dharmaic duty that drove me to it, I love it there, it has become a huge part of my counseling identity and I will return long after the grades are turned in, but deep down I have desires to sit and do nothing, like many of you are doing at this very moment. Moving on…
I was lucky enough to have secured a spot at such a special place. The Children's Bereavement Center of South Texas (http://www.cbcst.org/) is a powerful place, many people who go to volunteer continue to return because of the impression it leaves. There are lots of opportunities to sit with people providing them with an unspoken permission to grieve. Many of those who volunteer from the community mention often that they felt a connection to the building without even knowing what was going on inside of it. One such person I have grown rather close with, her name for the purposes of confidentiality is OPRAH. She is a greeter, she is an active retiree, widow, and social advocate for the recently bereaved. She is in her late sixties with the mentality of a twenty something. She has a weekly social group she likes to tell me about, where she does water aerobics, Zumba and has lots of wine. Oprah calls me things like ‘Girl’ and has a Velcro cell phone holder that she wears on her wrist, like an overgrown Dick Tracy watch communicator. She is amazing. I love every Tuesday evening walking in and knowing OPRAH will be there to greet me, knowing she is going to tell me something way to personal or non intentionally offensive, like, “Oh girl, I just had a breast exam…” or “Girl you are thick, I bet those boys….” She is a treat to be around and I treasure our weekly moments.
The other week, it was on OPRAH’s night to be greeter, I invited some friends to serve dinner for the families on that particular group night. It really wasn’t a big deal, we agreed to make tacos and everyone brought a little piece of that taco building puzzle and we were off. We all met at the designated time and as many have experienced and know, Mormons are a peculiar people. We aren’t like the masses, and sometimes those characteristics are identifiable. I had about 12 single friends who really wanted to partake in this special opportunity. We were about 8 girls and 4 boys…Su-prise! Su-prise! And I hate to admit it, mostly because none of them are attracted to me, but they are all really good looking men, not only that, they are kind gentlemen. OPRAH fell in love with each of them as they walked in the door. She wanted to know why so many twenty and thirty somethings would spend there evening doing this instead of in a bar or doing something else. She knew immediately that something was different about this group.
Before we wanted it to be, the dinner had finished and the attendees were split off into their weekly groups. My friends and I stayed to clean up and OPRAH came up and said how incredible she thought this group was. She went on and on and asked what group they belonged to, because at this point she didn’t piece together that they were all there with me. Sensing a missionary opportunity, like a shark senses blood, everyone’s ears perked up and we all answered in harmonic unison that we were Latter-day Saints, aka Mormons. To which, OPRAH responded with something I had never heard as a Mormon, she said, “ I should have known you were Mormons, you all have such white teeth.” Befuddled, I looked at her as she continued, “why are your teeth so white?” Not waiting for an answer she continued, “ I need to get my teeth whitened, maybe I should become a Mormon.” We all had a good laugh, because clearly if she had ever heard of Groupon, she could get her teeth whitened for a whole lot less work. So, then the light turned on and she asked if they were here with me, and I said yes, and then she asked, “Kyle, are YOU a Mormon?” I flashed my toothy, braces laden, smile and confidently said yes, and she countered, “Well,…” she paused looking around the room “…what happened to YOUR teeth!?” The group roared with laughter. I mean, I laughed so hard I was crying, or maybe I was just crying, either way I think I kept trying to mumble something like, I drink a lot of Coke, or those are just yellow rubber bands on my braces, but it just kept getting lost in the roar of laughter. I have now rubbed my teeth down to nubs trying to get them a shade or two lighter, thereby negating the need for the braces, but proving my faith nonetheless.
No matter what she says about my teeth, weight or face for that matter, I loves me some OPRAH!!!*
*as any good Mormon girl would.
