A well lived life!

               My husband and I had planned to go on a date on Saturday.  With his travel schedule for work and our son’s baseball schedule, I felt like I hadn’t spent any significant time with him in weeks.  We planned to go out to dinner while our son spent time with friends.

                Providence had other plans.  Rather than going to dinner, we spent several hours driving to Richmond to attend the memorial service and wake of a friend.  My husband Dave worked with Cecil for several years in the 1990’s. Cecil was a mentor for my husband.  I became friend with Cecil and his wife Mary though various family-work functions and they came to our wedding.  When they retired, we visited their Richmond home a few times.  In mid-April it was apparent that he didn’t have much time left and Dave drove on a Sunday afternoon to Richmond to see him one last time.

                Much to the surprise of Mary, Cecil’s wife, he was lucid and in great spirits.  He was delighted to see my husband and they had a great visit.  Hours later he slipped into a coma and he left this world on Wednesday.  He was husband, father, Methodist minister, Navy chaplain, Goodwill executive and spent the last years of “retirement” as the Executive Director of the Chaplain Service Prison Ministry in Virginia.  His alter ego was “Mac the Great”, a magician that would entertain the young and old alike. 

                Cecil’s Methodist memorial service, which he planned, was nearly two hours long! Family, friends and colleagues paid tribute to him.  Many of them ended their comments with one of his favorite jokes.

                He and Mary lived modestly.  Their marriage of 58 years was truly a love story. They travelled some, mainly to see family or former colleagues.  Their retirement of 17 years was in service to others. (She was his unpaid secretary-partner with the prison ministry.)  He was well loved because he loved others so well.  Who knows how many lives he touched for the better?

                As I sat at the memorial service, my thought was, “What a well lived life!”  I am a better person for having known him.  Sharing this experience with my husband was far better than just going out to dinner.  It gave us a chance to reminisce about Cecil and to think out loud about what we envision for our retirement.  God Bless you Cecil!

                I wonder if Cecil greeted St. Peter with one of his favorite jokes, or a magic trick!

The Dogwood

Washington DC in the spring time is a stunningly beautiful place to live.  Flowers, trees and bushes bloom from late winter to mid-summer.  I grew up in Michigan and hadn’t seen the likes of cherry trees, dogwoods, and crape myrtles until I moved here nearly 20 years ago. 

The cherry tree gets a lot of publicity and even has its own festival each year!  If you are in DC for the festival this week, you will have missed the cherry blossoms by a couple of weeks, but can enjoy the gracious and attractive dogwood blossoms.

The cherry blossoms are breath taking and they signal the coming of spring.  But for me, it has always been the dogwood that has captured my attention. I think it is nearly the last tree to bloom. It is the flower that I love.  .”  I see it in my neighborhood, on the B-W parkway, and as I drive into the city. It sits there quietly. By the end of the week, the flowers will give way to green leaves that will eventually fall to the ground in the fall.

 The branches of the dogwood grow in such a way that the bloom seems to be offered as a gift to those who gaze upon its beauty.  Each flower has four distinct petals and a center. To me, the tree is gently offering all of its beauty this time of year.  It’s as if it is saying, “Here is my best and it is for you.” 

A little like God the Father did for us, offering his best – Jesus – for us and to us.  Or should I say for me and for each of you. During this Holy Week, I can enjoy the gift of the dogwood, quietly offering its gift, asking those of us who are too busy to slow down for a minute and enjoy the beauty of one of God’s creations. 

Fiat

I often pray for the desire and strength to do God’s will, as Mary did. She responded to the angel Gabriel, with one word, “Fiat.” A small replica of Fra Angelico’s famous painting of the Annunciation is hung on the wall in my bedroom.  On this splendid Feast, I received a lesson and a great gift.

                I awoke this morning, with a heavy heart.  Last evening, my mother in law reminded me at dinner that she needed to be taken to Bethesda Naval Hospital to pick up one of her medications.  When I ordered the prescription last week, we had talked about picking it up on the 26^th, but I forgot. My response to her was not kind and was laden with the impression that helping her with this was a burden. 

 I tend to be protective of my Monday mornings, as most often as not, a productive Monday morning leads to a productive week and non-productivity on Monday leads to the same for the week.  I had scheduled a long awaited meeting for the middle of Monday in Georgetown which would take a huge chunk of the day - something that I was also viewing as a burden.  I was angry and aggravated with this the need to drive 15 miles to get medicine, when I can walk to the closest CVS.

                While speaking to a good friend last night about my reaction, I realized that my mother in law’s most important activity of the week wasn’t even on my list.  My mother in law became a widow last August, she is elderly, and not in good health. I grasped that I don’t need to go across the world or even across the street to accomplish Corporal Works of Mercy in the name of the Lord.   My mother in law is a widow, aging, grieving and ill.  That work that I pray to accomplish in the name of Christ is sitting in my family room.  And so, I resolved to take her to get her medicine before I headed to my lunch appointment.

                At Mass this morning, my pastor stated that is was obligatory for us to celebrate today’s feast.  With that in mind, I picked up my mother in law and you would have thought that taking her on this errand was the equivalent of taking her to Disney World!  She was so happy!  Her joy was such a wonderful reward and was humbling.

                As my day progressed, I thought about those words from my pastor, that I was obligated to celebrate today.  I slowed down my day and thoroughly enjoyed the scrumptious seafood lunch in Georgetown.  The friend I met for lunch is a new Catholic.  This is his first Feast of the Annunciation and we had a wonderful discussion about our faith as well as accomplished the business at hand.

 I then strolled to the Georgetown Cupcake shop.  My niece in Michigan has a great fondness for this shop, although she only knows of it from the television show. I got in line (outside the store) and was entertained by the employee who would accurately and deliciously describe each of the cupcake flavors for the clientele (for instance the difference between vanilla and vanilla birthday).   I purchased a Georgetown cupcake mug to mail my niece and bought cupcakes for my family for dinner.  We don’t normally have dessert during the week, but we are obligated to celebrate!

                Walking back along the C & O Canal to my car, I thanked Mary for her example and said a prayer of thanksgiving for the revelation I received about my mother in law.

                Now the only decision left for the day is, will it be honey banana, cherry blossom or red velvet cake for dessert. I suppose I will be obligated to enjoy it!

On our knees outside of HHS

Friday was a beautiful, sunny afternoon in Washington DC. I boarded the Metro to head to Union Station and then would walk a half mile or so to Constitution Avenue.  There were many years when I took the Metro to downtown DC everyday for work, now I use it only occasionally.

I arrived at Union Station with only fifteen minutes to make my appointment. I was a excited and perhaps a little apprehensive about the experience ahead. 

I threaded the construction around the station, looking more like a tourist than a resident.  The city was bursting with dozens a school groups who were visiting our Nation's Capital.  This third day of Spring felt more like early summer.  As I quickly walked, I had to take a moment to enjoy the beauty of the Cherry Blossoms that had peaked and soon would create "pink snow" in DC, as the beauty of the flowers gives way to common place foliage.

I notice the numerous barriers that were put in place around the US Capitol after September 11th.  I suppose the barriers will never seem "normal" to me.  Scurrying down 3rd Street, I know I am headed in the right direction.  There are many people walking with signs, also men and women dressed in various forms of black and an occasional man in robes.

I arrive at the plaza in front of the Health and Human Services Building just three minutes after Noon. The organizers of the Stand Up For Religious Freedom Rally in DC were welcoming the crowd.  It looked to me like there might be 500 or 600 people. A little disappointing, and yet a good crowd.  I noticed the crowd varied greatly.  There were students, families, women of all ages, a mix of ethnicities, although the majority of the crowd was Caucasian and some clergy and religious.

Several speakers made introductory comments.  The organizers of the DC rally specifically selected mainly female speakers to talk about religious liberty. Once the Rally actually began they noted the size and I was delighted and surprised when I turned around to see the crowd behind me.  My guess is that there were between 1000 and 1300 participants.

Some of those who work for the HHS were looking out the window.  My favorite part of the rally was that we began with prayer, on our knees.  Although we were because religious freedom is a necessity, protected by the First Amendment, we would humbly begin with a heartfelt prayer to our Lord for our cause.

The speaker that most impressed me was Star Parker, the president of the Center for Urban Renewal and Education.  She gave her personal testimony and explained the choices the mandate forces non-exempt religious employers to make: “Bow your knee, pay a fine, or close your business.”

The environment was joyful and enthusiastic. Although some of the signs were angry, for the most part it was a time to voice our opinions in this land of the free and home of the brave.  After an hour, it was time to head back to Union Station and my everyday life as wife and mother.  As I walked past the Capitol, I said a prayer to the Lord to thank Him for freedom and to petition Him to keep our freedoms in tact.

God's Loving Care

This month, my women’s Bible Study group is reading and discussing prayer.  One of the questions in the workbook asked us to discuss a time when we were especially aware of God’s loving care.  While there are a number of times in my life that this was evident, one particular time is above all.

Two years ago, my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer.  Before she began treatment, the cancer had metastasised to the brain.  For three and a half months, my siblings and I walked with my mom on her last journey on earth.

I would imagine that the death of a parent is never easy. Not only was I sad to know that I was going to lose her, but I was angry because she had been a lifetime smoker and had not taken care of herself.  For me, this would mean that I would be an orphan, as my dad died in 1986.

Before my first trip back to Michigan, I went to confession.   Entering the confessional, not knowing what I wanted to confess, the Holy Spirit, along with the confessor, led me to understand that it was selfishness that I needed to confess.  So many of my concerns had to do with me (i.e. How was my 12 year old son going to react? How much was this going to cost me in expense and in time? How would this affect my family? ) in spite of the fact that I knew my mom was terribly afraid of death.  This was the first step in God’s loving care for me in those anxious, heartbreaking days.

From the beginning, I reached out to many who knew me and asked for their prayers.  On days when I didn’t think I could hurt any more, I knew that I was being held aloft by the prayers of others.  I made four trips back to Michigan.  Many precious, poignant memories are burnt into my brain from those days between February and June - too many to recount here.

Through God’s loving care, I was able to help my mom come to terms with the end of her life on earth, as I came to understand the beauty of a happy death.  God’s love helped me to be stronger than I ever thought I could be.  As I attend mass in Michigan, it was as if God was speaking to me through the celebrants, showing me his great love for my family and me.

As I was preparing to come home from one visit, I asked my brother to take a picture of my mom and me.  Her hair had begun to fall out from the cancer treatments, and I was certain that this would be the last good photo of us.  He snapped one picture, and then Mom spontaneously leaned over to kiss me on the cheek and I giggled.  That moment, captured digitally, is a visual sign of God’s loving care during those dark months in 2010.

"Jackie Robinson held this ball!"

This morning, coming out of mass, I ran into the husband of a friend.  Something he said turned a light bulb on above my head in regard to relics and the Church.  In my late twenties, I entered into the Catholic Church.  Not growing up with many of the churches traditions, relics seemed to me a little odd.

 

My story begins a few days ago, when I ran into a friend.  She has four boys, ages 2 to 9 and she home schools.  She mentioned that she was putting together, with her sons, a presentation intertwining baseball and American history.  Knowing that we have a basement of baseball paraphernalia, she arranged to come over and speak to my husband. 

 

My husband is a huge baseball fan and knows a tremendous amount about history.  Last Saturday afternoon, my friend and three of her boys came over for a hour to do research for the presentation. We sat in the basement while my husband pulled out books and talked about baseball.  The presentation focused on World War II, racial integration, 911 and immigration.  During the discussion, my husband pulled a ball off the shelf and showed the boys Jackie Robinson's signature.  The family left with a number of borrowed items, including Jackie's ball.

 

As I spoke to my friend's husband this morning, I asked about the success of the baseball presentation.  He said he thought it went well.  The interaction he enjoyed the most was the excitement with which his boys showed him Jackie Robinson's signature on the ball.  One of them said, "Jackie Robinson actually held this ball!"

 

That is when the light bulb went on above my head regarding relics.  I have a sense of awe and wonder when seeing the relic of a saint.  I may not use the same words as my friend's son, but the thought it the same.  The relic helps to make my faith concrete.  To see an item used by a saint, helps me to understand that this person, who may have lives hundreds of years ago, was a walking and breathing human being.  He or she dealt with many of the same struggles that I struggle with each day.

 

The next time someone asks me about why Catholics venerate relics, I have a clear example to share!

 

 (Mother Teresa's sandles are pictured above.)

 

Go Givers

On this Monday, the second week of Lent, I am failing miserably with one of my Lenten observances. I planned to write a blog post each day of Lent, 46 posts in 46 days.   Not because there is much demand for my thoughts, but because it makes me slow down, think and write of an aspect of my relationship with God and my faith.  Today, I write about Robert Maurin.

Yesterday, our Adult Education class viewed the second episode in the Catholicism Series written and narrated by Father Robert Barron. Titled, The Teachings of Jesus, the video explores the Beatitudes, the non-violent teachings of Jesus and Matthew 25.  It is somewhat of a coincidence (or not) that we viewed this episode on the second Sunday in Lent. If you haven’t seen this disc, it is well worth the 50 minutes of your time.

The teachings explored were rich with meaning and it will take some time to digest all that Fr. Barron had to convey.  The phrase that really got my attention was a quote from Robert Maurin.  He, along with Dorothy Day, founded the Catholic Workers Movement in the 1930’s.

Maurin wrote, The order of the day is to talk about social order. . . I want a change, and a radical change.  I want a change from an acquisitive society to a functional society, from a society of go-getters to a society of go-givers.

What a wonderful attitude to have this Lent – and always.

 I experienced a concrete example at lunch today.  As I waited in line to pay for my food, a man in another line was making all kinds of noise.  He is homeless - I’ve passed him on the street a number of times.  He had collected enough money for a coffee and was ordering it the best he could.  The man in front of me ordered and paid for a sandwich for the homeless man.  The man receiving the sandwich offered his fist to the man ordering and they bumped fists! My heart warmed at the exchange. “Go giver,” I thought.

 As I write this piece, I am watching the benefactor sit in a warm place and enjoy his food.  Occasionally he makes a loud noise and the restaurant manager kindly comes over and reminds him to be quiet. He appears to be savoring each and every bite of the sandwich.  A simple act brought joy to another.

I wonder how I can become a Go Giver today.