Thursday, June 28, 2012

One Year


One year. It was one year ago that the Capital Caring Hospice Center called me to tell that Jeff had died. While I knew it was coming, the news came as a surprise. Just the evening before they believed it would be a couple of more days. While the very end was peaceful, the way there had been hard. No matter how much faith we have, the unknown is still difficult, even fearful at times.

Jeff was a lot like his mom. He used to say that it was vanity that had kept her going for so long while dealing with Type 1 diabetes for so many years. She never wanted anyone to see her at less than her best. Then he would say it was vanity that kept him working out so much. He too never wanted anyone to see him at less than his best. Controlling that image was so important to him. Even as he left the house to ride in the medical transport to the Hospice Center, he would not let them bring a stretcher to carry him out. He insisted on walking out to it and even tried to climb into it himself.

I know that desire to maintain control as well. I want to present a strong face to the world. I don’t want others seeing me when I am weak, but I have learned over this year that I need others, that my strength is made greater when I let others near.

The way forward is an uncharted path in many ways. When I try to project too far down the path, I can feel the anxiety rise within me. I need to take it step by step, day by day, and keep in contact with those who lend me their strength.


Matthew 11:28-30
“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Memories Pressed Between the Pages of my Mind

Our VA Annual Conference begins tomorrow. We drove down to Roanoke today so we don't have to leave before the crack of dawn tomorrow.

For over twenty years, Jeff and I went to Annual Conference together. I loved gathering with friends and colleagues. He did to some degree though he wanted much more time alone. Ever since he "retired" eleven years ago, I had come alone. That was hard enough. Last year was the first year I have ever missed attending. Jeff was in the final stages of his bout with cancer.

For those nine years I would call to let him know that I got to Conference safely. Tonight, I was especially mindful that there was no one at home to call. I talked to my brother instead.

Max is here with me. He wanted to come. He has his own room. As I was going to his room for our prayers, I saw a friend--the spouse of a clergywomen. I told Max I would be back soon, and went to talk with Tammy and David.

Tomorrow night, we will have the Memorial Service when we will remember all the clergy and their spouses who have died since the last Annual Conference. Jeff's name will be read. Max will be sitting with me.

When I got back to my room after our prayer time, that old song came back to me: "memories pressed between the pages of my mind." Feeling tender here tonight.

Appreciation for my Mamma


When my father died twenty years ago this August, there were things my mother did that I didn’t really understand or appreciate at the time. He died Tuesday evening when I was returning to our home after being with him. I arrived home to hear the news. We packed and returned to Richmond that night. On Wednesday, Mamma directed Jeff and some others to take up all the plywood that had been laid on the floor to make Daddy’s wheelchair move around more easily. The hospital bed was removed immediately and their twin beds put back up. She said that it was because people would be coming over. It felt to me as though she were cleaning out reminders of my father’s illness and his last days. She also stopped wearing her wedding ring.

Over this past year, I have come to understand this some and appreciate my mother more. I too began moving furniture around and making changes in the house. I also stopped wearing my wedding ring. Only one person has ever asked me about it. My reply was that I had kept my wedding vows until we were parted by death. It wasn’t until quite some time had passed that I realized I had done similar things as my mother.

We all grieve in our own ways. Some people keep everything the same, and others do as my mother and I did. The legend of the phoenix is that the baby bird rises from the ashes of the old bird. Over this year, and I’m sure for a while yet to come, I have needed to stir the ashes of our life together in order to get a sense of the new life that will arise. I have glimpses of that new life. What it will be I do not yet know in full but I have hope as I wait for it.


Revelation 21:3-5a
And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them as their God; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them; 4he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.” 5And the one who was seated on the throne said, “See, I am making all things new.”

Thursday, June 14, 2012

This Month


I am not sure quite how I feel about this month. It is a busy time with the end of school this week, and then Annual Conference next week, and Jazz camp coming up after that. At work, we are all trying to figure out how we are going to manage the transition from Mirta to an as yet unknown person, as we also try to plan for the upheaval that everyone’s vacation plans throw into the mix. In some ways, all the focus and busy-ness is good because it doesn’t give me a lot of time for anything else.

Then at the end of the day, or at unexpected moments, I am intensely aware of our loss. A song evokes tears. Ads for Fathers’ Day gifts keep poking into my awareness, prodding tender spots.

I know that staying intensely busy can be a way of avoiding the abyss of grief. I have tried this year to find some balance in the midst of it all, sometimes coming to the edge of it but not falling in. I may look back years from now and see how I could have done it better but walking through the midst of this journey has had to be one step at a time, for better or worse.

Knowing that I don’t really walk this path alone sustains me. In words, gestures, looks, and actions, I (we) have been upheld by loving community. And for that I give thanks.



Matthew 11:28-30
“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Happiness


Today I read an article a mother wrote about ten things she wants her daughter to know before she turns ten. Actually, it was good for anyone of any age to know.  A link to that article is at the bottom of this note. The first thing was that “it is not your job to keep the people you love happy.” That is so true.

It’s not my job to make others happy. When I work to make or keep others happy, I most often am trying to second guess what their desires might be, and meet those desires even before they are expressed. I don’t allow for a genuine exchange of ideas or expression of their own hopes and dreams.

It’s not even my job to make myself happy. I find when I do things out of an attempt to be happy, I end up concentrating on the wrong things. I am further away from a true centered life. It’s kind of like when Paul says, “I don’t know what I’m doing, because I don’t do what I want to do. Instead, I do the thing that I hate.” [Rom 7:15] What a wretched way to live.

And it certainly is not God’s job to make me happy. There’s an awful lot of schlocky quasi-theological thoughts out there indicating that God’s blessings are in the form of giving me things or experiences that enhance my life, give me what I want, and make me happy. More often I find that God’s blessings call me out of myself, even make me at least a bit uncomfortable. It’s when I wrestle with these blessings that I am so centered in God’s presence that it doesn’t matter to me whether I am happy or not.

The best and most honest thing I can do towards happiness, mine and others, is to pray for God’s mercy, and let God work out how that mercy will flow.


Matthew 5:8-9
"You're blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.
"You're blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That's when you discover who you really are, and your place in God's family.” [The Message]


Article on Ten Things.