Women That WOW: Genie-Bee

There is a unique character in my life that you need know. Actually, it’s likely that you do. She’s Genie-Bee … my Mom. She knows everybody. It would be more accurate to say that everybody knows her. You think I’m kidding. Allow me to illustrate.

We were in a Florida rental condo on vacation a few years ago. We were on the third floor of a building where there is just one other unit and an elevator. One day, the owners of the adjacent condo were getting on the elevator as we were. Mom struck up her version of a Six-Degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon conversation, trying to find the common point of interest with any given stranger. By the time the doors opened on the ground floor, the man was yelling “…Oh my gosh, you’re that Genie-Bee?!” I kid you not. (In this case, it seems that the guy’s best friend in Wisconsin was a doctor my Mom consulted for.) I could go on, but there’s more you need to know about her.

Remember that poem that inspired the whole “Red Hat” movement? That could’ve been written about Mom. Only she’ll never be old. When you are with her, you think she’s about 16. She makes you feel about 16. She’s always giggling, smiling and telling silly stories about her antics. She has short hair, doesn’t wear much make up and is a casual kinda girl. But every time I look at her blue-green eyes when she’s telling one of her funny stories, I think, “She’s one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever known. This is what pure joy does for a person.”

She parks her car like a drunken sailor--sometimes illegally, but with her “crip” sign (as she calls it), no one ever says anything. She has great quotes that NEVER die like … “He who speaks next loses” (extremely useful in negotiations). Or … “If it rains on Easter Sunday, it will rain for eight more Sundays in a row.” Or, the one that I’ve been hearing a lot from her in recent years, “Fear is useless. What is needed is trust.” You see, Mom is largely defined by her faith. She has a complete and total trust that God will take of everything. And Mom is always right. She’s converted all kinds of people … by example … by telling them what they are doing wrong (!) or by taking them to Medjugorje with her. In fact, a couple of her doctors (who are more like sons to her) fondly call her “The Sword of the Lord.” You need another example.

This summer, Mom was the lucky recipient of a tax audit. Interestingly, she was assigned a first-time auditor who was intent on making a good impression with her boss. So, “Newbee” took the entire summer on this case, making Mom crazy. As they were wrapping up, Mom gave Newbee the old “one-two,” which usually goes something like this: “You know, ___(your name here)___, you have an amazing gift for ___(your talent here)__. You are truly one of the best I’ve ever encountered. I wouldn’t be surprise if you make a lot of money doing that in your future. But, you want to be careful, because you’re also ___(your weak trait goes here)___. That might be your downfall. However, if you can keep that in check, I wouldn’t be surprised if you are really, really successful.” In this case, she told Newbee that she was extremely well organized, but that she was obsessive compulsive. Yes, really. How does she get away with that? I don’t know. Interestingly, the recipient’s response is always … “How did you know that about me? Are you a psychologist?” and they leave thanking her or hugging her. Really.

I could go on for days about Mom. But I’ll leave you with my favorite “Genie-Bee” story. We asked everyone she knows to give us their best “Genie-Bee” story for her birthday a few years ago. This one was shared by my Aunt Cathy—who is gone now. I’d never heard this one before that day—but I’ll never forget it now. One summer, Mom and Aunt Cathy went to Ireland to visit their parents’ land and some distant cousins. They traveled to a rural area to spend a few days with a second cousin and her 5 year old daughter. Every day, the mother and daughter would walk two miles to a little school so that the little girl could swing on the playground there. Seems there wasn't much to entertain a small child in that part of the country.This family had little money, but was rich in love and hospitality. Soon it came time for Mom and Aunt Cathy to leave. They thanked their hosts, shared hugs and headed for the airport. Driving through the next town, Mom pulled over and ran into the Sears catalog center—leaving Aunt Cathy waiting in the rental car. According to Aunt Cathy, Mom ordered a swing set for the little girl, to be delivered to the home of the “cousins” the following week. That’s so Genie-Bee.

Women That Wow: Lady Bug

I met my friend “Lady Bug” (a nickname her mother gave her as a child) in a “Moms” group at our church. Each week, about 12 of us would gather and share a little bit about ourselves—individual stories unfolding carefully, gently, trustingly. There was something about LB that made me want to be her friend. For a long time, I thought it was her strength—which seemed such a bold contrast to my timid lack of confidence.

At first blush, you would think we couldn’t be more different. She speaks her mind. I wish I could speak mine (more often). Her opinions are well-thought out and articulate. Mine are emotional. I say I’m an “artsy, right brain” thinker. She laughs and says that must make her an “analytical, left brain” thinker. (But she’s very creative, too.)

We started meeting for “cawfee tawk.” The more I learned about LB, the more I liked her. Growing up, she lived in New York and went to parochial school. She was the youngest child in a big family. She lost her mother to cancer when she was just 10 years old—and she misses her terribly. Every. Single. Day. She tells wonderful stories about her Mom--who worked nights. As soon as her mom came home, she would mop the kitchen floor. Part of a comfortable routine; a theraputic unwinding. No matter how sick or tired her mother was, she was helping others. She walked her faith. LB has memories of various people who were “down on their luck” living in their basement. After her mother died, her Dad tried his best—but he missed his life’s companion terribly.

LB’s faith is rock solid. She doesn’t exaggerate. She doesn’t lie—even when it might be easier. (I love that about her.) You see, she doesn’t want any of her actions here on earth to stand in the way of her getting to see her Mom, Up There.

LB graduated from high school at just 16 years old and, two weeks later, she married her sweetheart—because she wanted to (and because her Dad approved). The young couple immediately left for El Salvador to do missionary work. LB taught ESL in a school and she translated (to the best of her abilities) in the hospital for physicians with Doctors Without Borders.

They were a happy couple. A few years later, they moved back to the states—first to Texas, then back to NY. They had three little boys. Then other family members started to intervene--slowly causing waves that, in time, became tsunamis. Eventually, it became so bad that LB accepted a job in the Midwest, packed up the boys and moved. Within two weeks, the company folded and she was without a job. Her struggles continued. Within a short time, she had a dream in which her mother spoke to her. She told LB to get to a doctor. LB had cancer. During her health crisis, she lost her Dad. She also lost a dear aunt who helped to raise her.

Alone, she battled cancer three times over the years. Alone, she raised those three boys into some of the most intelligent and admirable young men I’ve ever met. Alone, she supported them. Alone, she made sure they had the best possible education available. The youngest is now in college, loving every minute of it. Her middle son is musically gifted and a great writer (and an artsy, right brain thinker!) The oldest is a young, married professional—just selected by his company to help lead a training program overseas. He is married to a young lady that LB adores.

LB works as Director of Compliance Operations for a health care company. She runs a catering business in her “spare time.” She misses New York. She says, “New York is home.” But, I think she misses that old kind of “happy.” I think—like most of us—she misses that safe place in the past that was “home.” We miss the security of laying in bed at night and hearing our parents talking quietly. We miss a time when there was no stress in our lives. We miss being kids with big dreams that were nurtured in us. We miss the little things. Like Mom mopping the kitchen floor early every morning—and the sound of her singing.

LB doesn’t like being alone. Nor does she like people referring to her as “strong.” Those aren’t things she has chosen. Sometimes when we chat, I hear her reflecting about the past—second guessing the choices that she made. It makes me sad to think I might never have met her. I think about how much richer my life is because she’s in it. I think about how grateful I am to God for sending her into my life. He made her shine like a brilliant angel during those Moms meetings, so that I would sit up and take notice … and know that He sent her there for me … like the “beneficial” Lady Bug that she is. Not just for her example of strength, but—more importantly—for her example of absolute faith.