What’s Your Hurry?
By: Brenda Karl
Tags: Death, Family, Life, Advice For Life, Mental Health

Photo by Artem Kniaz on Unsplash

It’s that time of year again — the time when memories of loved ones past make their way to the present. A special time we love and embrace those who are “near and dear” to us. It is also the time that most of us move at breakneck speed and invite stress into our already hectic lifestyles. Emotions, the good and the not so good, are everywhere. It’s Christmastime.

Feelings or emotions are the universal language and are to be honored. They are the authentic expression of who you are at your deepest place. ~Judith Wright

This year, my emotions are especially raw. I feel them deeply and have found myself driving down the road, crying as I listen to songs on the radio. I’m sure COVID has a lot to do with the sadness I’m feeling. There has been so much loss and division during a time when people should run to each other — not away. In addition to the struggle that is COVID, I lost my brother and his daughter — only 17 — in a tragic car accident. We were not allowed to gather as a family or take time to grieve together over our mutual loss.

There’s only one thing more precious than our time and that’s who we spend it on. ~Leo Christopher

When I was a little girl, we would often visit with our neighbors on Sunday afternoon. We Southerners referred to it as “ visitin’ ”. This wasn’t a holiday tradition, rather, a standard Sunday afternoon ritual. If you didn’t go, you stayed home with Sunday afternoon food fit for a king and waited for your visitors. People would stop in with no call, text, or invitation, and they were always welcomed. I loved it.

I loved going, and I loved staying at home. When we stayed home, and people came by, there was a certain amount of time that one could stay before they “wore out their welcome”, a Southern euphemism used to refer to overtaxing your host. This was an intuitive, innate response, and anyone not from the area would probably be confused by it. When the guest sensed their welcome was up, they would say, “Well, I reckon it’s time for me to get goin’.

My Grandpa, with no exceptions, would say, “What’s yer hurry?” Now, if you took him literally, you might “wear out your welcome”, but any good Southerner understood the subtle nuances involved in polite visitin’.

They didn’t rush out the door but wrapped things up slowly. The adults would rise, and all walk out together. Maybe stand out on the porch a bit. The men might leisurely walk over to the car and talk about the tires or an engine, while the ladies looked at the flowers in the front yard. Eventually, the guests made it into their car, and we all waved goodbye from the driveway as if we might not ever see them again.

What’s normal anyways? ~ Mrs. Gump

It might sound like an oxymoron, but I was a fast Southerner. I talked fast, drove fast, and whatever I was doing, I tried to do it quickly. I have no idea why. But more often than not, my Grandpa would say, “Girl, slow down. What’s yer hurry?”

An old song by the band, Alabama, “I’m in a Hurry To Get things Done”, echoes through my memory confirming my Grandpa’s words. The chorus says:

I’m in a hurry to get things done,

I rush and rush until life’s no fun,

All I really gotta do is live and die,

But I’m in a hurry and don’t know why.

Whether Christmastime or not, I have lived most of my adult life in a hurry. In a hurry to take care of my children, my husband, my friends, and my community. Everything needed to be perfect, and there was so much to do, all the time.

After my kids grew up and I found myself single again, my life was still rushing from classes, to work, from work to the gym, from the gym to….

That’s when I heard my Grandpa asking me from the other side, “What’s yer hurry?”

I realized that there was no one at home demanding that I be there. There was no one at home expecting dinner. And yet, habit dictated that I needed to get home quickly. At that moment, I started to intentionally slow down.

Don’t get me wrong. I am a work in progress, but I became aware of the speed at which my brain and body wanted to move out of habit, and I intentionally gave them permission to slow down. Slowing down is a state of mind. I take an intentional breath, see the frenzy for what it is — an illusion, and recognize that I don’t have to participate.

When Grandpa asked, “What’s yer hurry” to his guests, he was really asking them, what is more important than leisurely time with good friends. He was welcoming them to savor the time, make it last, enjoy every moment.

Mama always said, dying was a part of life. I sure wish it wasn’t. ~ Forrest Gump

Yesterday, while driving down the road listening to songs on the radio, a song sang by Vince Gill came on. His much loved elastic tenor voice takes on a feeling similar to the high lonesome sound heard in the old Bluegrass songs. The song, “Go Rest High On That Mountain”, is about someone who died and the ones left behind are saying goodbye. One of the lines, “Go to heaven a shoutin’ ”, jumped out at me.

If you’re unfamiliar with the word “shoutin’ ”, it’s another of our Southern words, considered a form of praise in many Pentecostal churches and some other mainline denominations as well. It’s an expression of happiness, joy, and praise.

The song reminded me of the lost time that should have been spent grieving the loss of my brother and his daughter. As I listened, tears slid down my face as I imagined my brother and his daughter “ a shoutin’ ” when they saw my Pentecostal Grandmother again. I could hear her saying, “Lorda mercy, Cassie, you got big”. And to my brother, “I’m so glad you found your way home.” I can see them hugging, crying, and just being together. Finally, in no hurry.

There are some things that are just not worth rushing, especially something that you wish would last forever. ~Anonymous

It’s Christmastime. I will miss my brother, my niece, my grandma and grandpa, and others who are no longer with me. I will miss visitin’ with old friends the way we used to when I was a child. Heck, I’m going to miss visitin’ the way we did before COVID.

But, rather than heaping on more responsibilities than I can handle, buying more than my budget will allow, and moving at a breakneck speed, I refuse to be in a hurry.

This season, I will remember my grandpa’s voice asking, “What’s yer hurry?”, and linger with those who I love most in the world. I will welcome them to savor the time, make it last, and enjoy every moment.