A Prayer Request

One of the people I have re-connected with on Facebook is Margie. She's Margaret now, but she's Margie to me. Outside of my family, I have known Margie and her sister Kathie, and their parents, Mr. and Mrs. Braham longer than anyone else in my life. There was about a 35 year gap between the last time I saw them and when we found each other again but it feels like there wasn't any time lost.

Margie left me a message today that her mom has been battling a particularly difficult form of cancer for a long while. Her doctors have decided they are going to move forward with a more aggressive surgery - and Margie asked me for my prayers.

In the summer of 1963, my parents bought their first home in the then orchard-filled town of Fremont, California. It was a three bedroom house in a new development called "StarliteHills". One night, before move-in date, my dad took my sister Linda and me to the house to have a "look-see". When we got there, the electricity had not been turned

on yet and it was dark, but there was a house across the street with the lights on. My dad thought he would see if he could borrow a flashlight so we went over and knocked on the door. Mr. Braham opened it, my dad introduced us and we were invited in while Mr. Braham looked to find one we could use. We met Margie that night, she was about to turn 7 and she and my sister Linda (already 7) went off to see Margie's bedroom while I stayed with my dad and held his hand. And there, on the floor was Mrs. Braham, changing Kathie's diaper. (So strong is this memory, I even remember the diaper pins!) Kathy had just turned 4 but seeing that she was not a baby, like my sister Lisa, I thought she was old to have a diaper and I made a remark along those lines. Immediately, I felt my dad squeeze my hand to let me know I was out of line. Mrs. Braham just smiled and said "yeeeeeeas" , drawing out the word in a kind, understanding, motherly way. I remember clearly being embarrassed that I had said something rude, but Mrs. Braham, with her demeanor, let me know I was off the hook. I was 6 years old.

The Brahams were devout Christians and because of that, my parents didn't get too close. Neither my mom, nor my dad were inclined toward church. The Brahams went every Sunday. Sometimes, my sister and I would go with them. It was fun, I thought. I liked Sunday school. It was nice putting on a Sunday dress and going to church with the Brahams.

But let me tell you what made Mrs. Braham most special to us. She was a Beatles fanatic! She had the "Meet the Beatles" album and every other subsequent one and she was responsible for turning us into life long Beatles fans. She would beam when Linda, Margie, Kathie and I would pretend to be the Beatles in her living room, playing air guitar (and air drums) and singing along with the albums. For hours. The Beatles became the primary theme for our play and Mrs.Braham often led us in self made Beatles parties and crafts. When the Beatles came to San Francisco for the first time, we had planned to be at the airport to greet them. Mrs. Braham later thought better of it and instead, we made lots of "We Love You Beatles" signs and we stood on top of the picnic table in their backyard waving and screaming at the plane we thought was theirs as it flew over the house. We saw "A Hard Day's Night" and "Help" with Mrs.Braham. And when John Lennon made the infamous "we are more popular than Jesus" comment, she put the albums away, but as soon as he apologized, Mrs. Braham was quick to forgive and the records made their way out again.

Mrs. Braham also had a little nervous (?) habit and she would hum the same two notes repeatedly throughout the day. She hummed in a low register but the interval was the same as the first two notes in the song "People". I liked this little habit and began to mimic it and take it for my own - until my mom made me stop.

Mrs. Braham redecorated their spare room a lot. Also known as "the music room" (Mr. Braham was a music teacher), I mostly remember when she made it into a sea scape. Along with many maritime artifacts that were placed around the room, she hung fish netting on the wall, with starfish and abalone shells caught in it. I thought it was the coolest thing ever.

One night, when Mr. Braham took Margie and Kathie for an overnight trip somewhere, Mrs.Braham dropped by late in the afternoon and said she was very lonely for her girls and asked my mom if she could borrow Linda and me for the night. My mom agreed and we were off to an adventure of staying at our friends house - while they weren't there. I was excited to see what our friends' lives were like after dark when we were all in our own homes winding down for the evening. I don't remember much from that night except that when we were in bed, Mrs. Braham bent down and kissed us both good-night. I couldn't remember her having done that before so it was strange and wonderful all at once. This pretending to be Mrs. Braham's daughters was so much fun that we made pests of ourselves all day the next day and she was patient with us but I know she was relieved when her real family returned and she could send us home.

It had been several years since I had seen the Brahams, but when I was 18, I made a decision to become a Christian and I went to be baptized at a local church. Because my family wasn't religious, I did this on my own, without anyone there to take note of the event. After I had been "dunked" and changed clothes, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Braham. They happened to have been there and she was thrilled! I remember her telling me that they were both sitting in church and feeling a little "bored" until they heard my name and she was just so happy for me. And I thought it made complete sense that of all the people of my childhood, if not my own family, the Brahams would be there to mark the day with me.

Helen Braham had a round, pleasant kind face and sweet smile. That's her in the photo with her daughter Kathie, circa 1960's Beatles days. I just saw a recent photo of her and Mr. Braham (Larry) on Margie's Facebook. She looks exactly the same - only older.

We can all look back on our lives and point to a few people who, for whatever reason, have been special and memorable to us. Mrs. Braham is one of mine. I cannot hear an old Beatles song without remembering happy, wonderful memories of my childhood. Mrs. Braham is responsible for many of those. Understandably, she is fearful of what lies ahead of her. She has my prayers before, during, and after her surgery. And may I ask, if you pray, will you be kind enough to remember her too.