we’ll meet again

I wrote this piece in late September while the feelings were fresh. 

I heard this week that Eddie went home. Not her home I described in Always Plenty with the two bedrooms and creaky floors, but her forever home. She went to be with her family. Not Ocy and Darlene and the rest, but her forever family. Her beloved husband went ahead a year and a half ago. Eddie is with Jesus now. She walked with Jesus while our lives overlapped here on earth and He’s never let her go, even in the tough times, and there have certainly been tough times.

As a matter of fact, some have criticized my description of Eddie’s life during the years following The Great Depression in Always Plenty. I know they sound dramatic; no sheets on the bed, cracked windows, not enough silverware to go around, cardboard stuffed into shoes to keep the muddy water out. Though I took some artistic license with the story, those details are straight from Eddie’s mouth.

After this less than luxurious youth, Eddie met the love of her life, Phil Ogan. She and Phil have one of my favorite-ever love stories. They dated for two days before getting engaged. They were engaged for four days before marrying. Phil shipped out for the Korean war seventeen days later and the couple was not reunited for twenty long months. Eventually, Phil became one of the most decorated veterans of the Korean war, but in the meantime, Phil’s heart was drawn to the children who had been fathered by American G.I. and abandoned because they were biracial. Thankfully, President Eisenhower’s heart was bothered by this same issue and he signed presidential visas as a special opportunity for Korean-American children to be adopted in the United States.

Thus began the young couple’s family, which eventually included one biological son, twelve adopted children and seventy-seven foster children (from 1962 to 2002.) Their children are caucasian, German Jew, Native American, Korean, Inuit and various other ethnic combinations. At the time Eddie and Phil adopted, these children were considered “un-adoptable” because of their ethnicities. When we sat across from each other in McDonald’s, Eddie told me, “Phil and I both love kids so much, from different angles.” She was referring to their personal reasons, I think.

Eddie grew up in a home I describe in Always Plenty. Two wonderful parents (though her father died when she was young,) a home full of siblings who were her dearest friends, and a vibrant hope in Jesus which made each day worth living. Phil, however, grew up with a mother who told him every single day how much she hated him and constantly wondered aloud why he had been born at all. Eddie said she wanted to give unloved children the love she had so much of. Phil wanted to give them the love he never got.

I first heard of Eddie through her story. It’s the same story I recorded in Always Plenty, but it was titled The Rich Family in Church. It was being passed around online and Ann Voskamp brought it to my attention. It had apparently been pulled from a letter of encouragement Eddie wrote to missionaries around the world. Come to find out, Eddie wrote to around 200 missionary families every month for decades. Encouragement, especially through humor, is a wonderful ministry and Eddie was devoted to it.

Eddie suffered from a variety of health issues for many years, including congenital heart failure. She was eighty-eight years old when she died. I am so grateful for you, Eddie. I am so grateful for the moments we spent together over McDonald’s milkshakes, the way you matter-of-factly shared your tremendous stories and the kind letter you wrote me. It gave me permission to turn your tale into my first book. I kept that letter tacked above my desk while I wrote, illustrated, edited and learned how to self-publish.

You left behind a legacy like few others and I have confidence you went peacefully to our Father in heaven. I know we’ll meet again there. In the meantime, you’ve given me a lifetime of inspiration to say “yes” to Jesus, year after year.