Publow, Martha Lynn

Comments by Sandra Collins and several friends

“Like a rainbow/Fading in the twinkling of an eye

Gone too soon

Like the loss of sunlight/On a cloudy afternoon

Gone too soon

Like a sunset/Dying with the rising of the moon

Gone too soon” (lyrics of “Gone Too Soon” by Buz Kohan

Too soon for the hundreds here at Otter Creek who will never know her

Too soon for the hundreds here who do

Too soon for the greatly anticipated baby who has already been deeply loved and will hear wonderful stories about her throughout its life

Sometimes during Sunday morning services, I recall the last scene in the movie Places in the Heart, in which both the living and the dead are sitting together in church taking the Lord’s Supper. In my mind I visualize the great cloud of witnesses around this auditorium: Ruth, Buddy, Carolyn, the Duncan boys, Millie, Zona, Ron, and others—witnesses whom Martha Lynn has joined.

I learned so much from all of them.

Martha Lynn’s friends all agree that she exuded irrepressible cheerfulness and joy and was quick to smile, laugh, and chuckle. She was enthusiastic and had a breathless, tremulous way of speaking and sparkling eyes aimed right at you as she spoke,

From her No Guilt Book Club, Diann Tennyson, wrote that she was “a bright light,” that “makes everything brighter by being present”; Ilene Maslan, that she was “such a vibrant person”; Anne King, that she “would miss her bright spirit and her laughter.” Kathy Morgan recalled “her pride in her children,…her signature infectious giggle.” Maggie Medford predicted “heaven will be a happier place.” Dana Latour said Martha Lynn and Dr. Berlin, her oncologist, found a bond in books they liked.

The Brandons wrote about their love for her and about her taco salad that was voted to become a regular third Sunday night meal for life group. (I suspect it will now be a meal of special remembrance, good stories, and deep appreciation.)

Clark and Judy Buchi wrote about trips to Colorado, planning and cooking together, “airports and rental cars and gasoline stations,” good conversations and worship, memorable jokes, hiking together “in thrilling places, but also walks to the end of a driveway…seeing a deer…or a soaring bird,” times spent with saints in God’s breathtaking creation.

Julie Barnes described the last small group meeting Martha Lynn attended. “She had just come back from Chicago with Paula and Carole that day, and sat in a big easy chair while we watched a film. After the film, [Martha Lynn] …made this night the most special small group gathering I have every experienced. She asked, ‘Why are so many people more spiritual than I am so afraid of dying?’”

Susan Lassiter said she “was not just a ray of sunshine when she walked into a room, she was the sun. She was laughter, joy, exuberance, encouragement, comfort, strength, and friend, with wonder and excitement greater than a child’s during walks in the snow or looking out in the night sky.” She writes,

“One dark, cold, Colorado night, Martha Lynn…stayed outside longer than usual…. Soon, she came running through the door saying, ‘You all have to come see this. There is something red, white and blue twinkling in the sky and I don't know what it is. It looks like it could be a space ship.’ Of course, we all laughed …and each of us strained to see what she had observed… [For] the next several nights [she continued] to check on the red, white and blue blinking object….Still puzzled, she inquired at the small volunteer fire department….If it had not been for her southern accent and her cute manner they would have thought she was crazy. [Letting nothing stand in her way, Martha Lynn pursued this situation … to the observatory in Denver…. There she discovered she had been observing a seldom seen star, viewed only at high altitudes, on very dark nights and in a very clear atmosphere.”

Susan also added that while “sharing stories about cancer,” Martha Lynn had said, “I don’t ask, ‘Why me?’ I ask, ‘Why not me?’”

Ginger Handy remembered “her bright and interested [not interesting] eyes.”

Both Ginger and Diana Reed said that when they talked with her, they felt by “the way she would look [them] in the eye that she was truly listening. “She would smile at our joys, and support us in our sorrows,” Ginger said. Neither will forget that in their last conversations with her, when she was so ill, how empathetic she was to sad things happening in their lives. She prayed for them regularly; she made them feel they mattered. “Her kindness, her bravery, her faith will remain with me always. I loved her smile, her laugh, her zest for life, and her concern for others,” Ginger said.

Martha Lynn told Diana that prayer had become far more meaningful to her during her illness—not just her own prayers but the awareness of the prayers of hundreds of friends and family which she said kept her going. She told Lynn Mott “she had learned so much about the depth of God’s love…that she had a much deeper relationship with Him. She wouldn’t trade that relationship for anything. “

Linda Rainey told how she and Martha Lynn had “known each other all our lives. Our parents had been friends.” But even though many in their special group of friends had family in the area, she said, “As the years passed we became a family,” raising children together, traveling together. She said she and Martha Lynn had “walked a million miles in Granny White Park” until Martha Lynn’s hip replacement. “We’ve laughed and we’ve cried,…shared hopes, dreams and disappointments…[and] we can rely on each other for support and honesty….Our family group will go on,” she said, “but Martha Lynn leaves a void in our circle that can’t be replaced.”

Lucien and Trisha say that Martha Lynn exemplified the truth that “it's not the situation you are in that determines the worth of a person but how you act in and react to the situation,… like the heroes…of the Holocaust who held fast to their faith and hope in spite of having no control over their life. Despite the rare occurrence of type 1 diabetes in her 50s, Martha Lynn simply accepted the diagnosis, [without complaints]….When… colon cancer with liver spread suddenly appeared, she did not blame God or fate or seek excuses. She again simply did what she could do with no complaints. Her positive attitude was …amazing, truly inspirational to me,” Lucien said.

“Second,” Lucien said, “[Martha Lynn] could make the most routine activities more fun for [everyone]. She embraced new experiences and was up to trying new things. The Kopfs, Simpsons, Raineys, and Publows went to "sting ray city" off Grand Cayman Island several years ago…[where people] actually…stand in waist deep water and feed

stingrays that swim around [their] legs. Like all of us Martha Lynn grew up being told to avoid stingrays on the fear of horrible injury. So when our guide asked who wanted to hold a stingray lifted from the water, who with a laugh and big smile, cradled the sting ray in her arms? Martha Lynn, of course.”

Several described her love of putting puzzles together--many in Colorado but also at home with Cayce while recuperating from chemo. Both the Simpsons and the Lassiters described how she nearly caught the Colorado cabin on fire trying to pop popcorn for Gordon at high altitude. Others quickly relieved her of that responsibility.

Trisha said she and Martha Lynn “consulted with each other many hours while Matthew and Andrew were in high school, especially one weekend when there was a need to return two [bigger than] life-size advertising cut-outs that they had ‘borrowed’ from the Mapco.” “I have never lost a close friend before,” Trisha wrote. She had moved or they had. “I could always reach them again if I wanted.” Trisha hopes “that [she] will never lose that feeling of reaching [Martha Lynn] if [she] needs her.” Each knew when “the other needed to talk, laugh, cry, or just be silent.” “We felt each other’s needs and helped each other through our struggles. She listened to my petty problems and grievances and was able to comment with insight and with no judgment… [but with] a depth of understanding and a determined resolution to emphasize the most important aspects of life in every situation. I have learned so much from her.” When they co-taught a ladies’ class, Trisha marveled at Martha Lynn’s astute comments.

Martha Lynn was tenderhearted, a wonderful wife and mother. [Sandra: When Jerry and I visited her once, she gave us the art tour. She was so proud of the paintings Gordon and Drew had done.] Anne Goad wrote about how the “love she felt for Gordon, Andrew and Cayce expanded with the inclusion of Anna Blair into their family. She glowed when she announced her coming grandchild.”

Anna Blair found the perfect card to send but added an even richer message in her own words: “I thought this was so fitting since you mentioned recently being in a ‘win-win’ situation. You have been an amazing example of strength and courage and we are all taking notes. The peace you have in your heart gives us great comfort and deepens my faith greatly as well. You are changing lives just by gracefully facing the challenges in yours. You’re an extraordinary lady and I couldn’t be more proud to be you daughter-in-law. Thank you for creating an exemplary man in Andrew. I know he will be an amazing father, due to the wonderful way in which he was raised. I still feel so blessed to have married him, and become a part of such a special family. I love you dearly. See you soon.”

She was a lover of everyone’s children—always interested in how the Collins children were doing. I am grateful she touched so many lives at Berry’s Chapel preschool. She loved trips to Center Hill Lake, was an avid reader in two book clubs and, within the last two weeks, received a book she had just ordered. Anne Goad said their No Guilt book club generated “deep insights…and uproarious laughter.” Martha Lynn had exquisite, understated good taste in what she wore and in the lovely way she decorated their spotless home. Cindy Waddell and I agreed that she was comfortable in her tasteful clothing and we were comfortable in her tasteful home.

Anne Goad closed with the following: “Each one of our loved ones and friends adds to who we are and…we are diminished by each one’s loss. With Martha Lynn’s passing, I have lost a part of myself that I will miss forever. She taught us how to fight and how to die.”

Trisha and she came to Vanderbilt Hospital during my breast cancer surgery May 11, when she could not have felt good, visiting with my husband and children, all of whom were deeply moved that she was there. She sent me a note, prayed for me, responded empathetically to my diagnosis. But she also kept me laughing. She and Susan Lassiter competed on sending me funny cards, but Martha Lynn won. The front had the picture of a tired cow with her udder dragging on the ground. The note said, “I heard you could use a little lift.”

Later, I visited her during one of her last hospital visits. I asked if she would receive second-hand flowers. Susie Parker had sent me a spectacular bouquet from which I had created a small arrangement for Martha Lynn. She enjoyed my confession more than the flowers, I think, and the string of funny things that had been said before and after my surgery. Gordon, Cayce, Martha Lynn, Lucien, and I all laughed because Martha Lynn had been put in a maternity ward and the doctor in the white coat was dermatologist, Lucien Simpson.

I long for whatever made her radiate such grace even when she heard bad news about Gordon’s work, about the death of her massage therapist, about her little dog, about her prognosis, even after she confronted an intruder in her house when she was almost too weak from chemotherapy to stand, even when she suffered pain, nausea and unbearable fatigue.

I would say to myself, “It must be genetic.”

A novelist would not dare put such a person in a novel. Critics would say, “Such Pollyannas are unbelievable. Real people are conflicted, complicated.” But Martha Lynn was real, not blindly naïve, but tough and courageous. The truth became clear. While she may have had especially good parenting or a gene for cheerfulness, Martha Lynn’s good spirits were intentional. Like all human beings, she faced some very hard things, but she chose to face them all with grace, a radiant spirit, and absolute trust that God was in charge.

Even as she knew she was dying, she chose to be appreciative of the littlest things, of the day, of the leaves, of each minute. She chose joy. She told Pat Ward she did not want to leave her family or miss seeing her grandchild, but she had put her trust in God “God says heaven is going to be so grand I won’t be sad. I can’t imagine that but I believe it…and I’m at peace.”

I gave Martha Lynn a bag of Sandra Boynton board books for the grandchild-to-be and told her I had not been able to find my favorite, Hey, Wake Up. It was our grandson’s favorite when he was only four months old. When I finally got a copy through Amazon, Martha Lynn was too weak to have visitors, so I kept it, waiting to take it over later. As I reread it this week, I found these words on the back: “There’s the sun. Hey, wake up, the day’s begun.”

For Martha Lynn, indeed a new day has begun. For her the Son has come. My guess is that if we

could hear her she would shout at us, “Hey, Wake Up! Wake up to the wonderful world around you. Wake up to the joys of family. Wake up to the joys of friends. Seize the day. Redeem the time. Be intentional. Find delight everywhere you go and in whatever circumstance you find yourself. Trust God. Be fully alive as you live and as you die.”

I am not surprised those sparkling eyes saw a star no one else could see or that she braved a stingray. She saw many things most people do not see. She embraced adventure in a way few can and readied herself for the greatest adventure.

I needed more of Martha Lynn. We all did. Hundreds of us shouted, “No, Lord. Not now, Lord!”

But she went quietly with grace and dignity. For the rest of us, she was “gone too soon.”