Old Friends

2013 had a couple of really special moments. I never got around to blogging about them at the time, but looking back at the year, I want to share one in particular.


2013 was marked by a series of reunions. Not the big family kind, just simple get-togethers between old friends and family. There was our annual Sisters' Reunion that took place in Pittsburgh this year. It was especially meaningful as both of my sisters had lost husbands during the year. We also caught up with cousins we only see at funerals, and I reconnected with several childhood friends.
In college I had a roommate who meant a lot to me. She told me one day that some of her high school friends kept trying to keep in contact with her. Then she told me she wasn't the kind of person who held onto old friendships. She moved on.

I was sorry to hear that because we became close friends, but when we lost touch after she moved to Denver I understood it wasn't personal. It's just the way she is. We did keep up a little and in the 80's we met for dinner when my family took a trip out west. I can say today though, that of all the people I have lost touch with I miss her the most.

Getting together with people from the past is so different from hanging out with current friends. There are past memories that pop into conversation creating convulsive laughter, or nostalgic feelings. There is a depth in the connection that can't be matched with current friendships...unless you have been friends for 30 years. History is the yeast in friendships. As the years age and ferment, the relationship transforms into something rich and full of flavor. It's the difference between flatbread and potato rolls (my favorite).

In a way, that was made all the more apparent last October when 4 of us 'old high school friends' got together for a weekend. Meg, Wendy, Janice and I were church friends when we were in high school. Actually, Meg, Wendy and I have known each other since we were babies. And we have the 1 year birthday party pictures to prove it!  Over the years we have had sporadic contact and thanks to that proverbial Christmas Card List we have managed to keep somewhat in touch. (I must add, that where the Christmas Card List failed, Facebook succeeded. Perhaps this should be called the Facebook Reunion, since it was through Facebook that we all reconnected.)


Last summer Wendy's mother passed away and I went to the memorial service. Meg also was able to attend the memorial service, which was held at our childhood church. Janice was unable to get there. As we talked, visited, recollected and reminisced, we decided if Jan couldn't come to us, we would go to her. And we did!

3 of us descended on #4 in Cape May, NJ for a 48 hour .... hmm... how to put it? What happens when 4 old friends meet for the first time in 40 years, well supplied with wine, cheesecake, and fudge? Sometimes words fail. Sometimes the adjectives one grasps for fall just short of the experience they are trying to describe. Sometimes moments just 'are'. This was one of those times.

As young adults we all saw the possibilities of our futures, but looking back we could see how limited our visions were. Meg never expected to go into ministry. Wendy never envisioned all the friends she would make through on-line chat rooms. I never anticipated the many places I would live. Janice never saw the many paths her life would take on the road to Cape May. Somewhere I expect we all saw ourselves as college graduates, with jobs, married, and raising a family. The simple dreams of young people in that era. Instead our lives were so much richer than our dreams.

For 48 hours four women reminisced, shared, vented, encouraged, and validated each other. What was most evident was that although we had little true knowledge of where each of us had been for those 40 years, we all knew so much of each other's early history that it was easy to understand where we were all coming from.

When it was over it was hard to process all the emotions and impressions we carried with us. This is why it has taken me so long to blog about it. It was a special time that transcended words. There were vows of not letting another 40 years go by without doing it again. (Good idea! At 100 years old, assuming we are still around, would we remember who we were, let alone each other?) As we moved forward into the coming days we did so in the haze of living in two worlds--the past and the present.

Truly, no one knows you quite the way your childhood friends do. They know the background that shaped you, your family, your personality, your environment, histories you may have forgotten....but they remember. They are a special treasure. For us the overwhelming feeling was of a past regained, old friends re-discovered, and an unstated understanding that if any of us needed something, the others would be there.


Connections seemed to be the theme for 2013. Is there a better way to live our lives? I don't think so. For me 2014 will be a year of new connections, but it is the old ones that will carry me through. I will add more people to my list. When I move, my friends here will become distant. Some will fade away, but some will remain as new connections to my past, encouraging my future. As I remember my long lost college roommate I think of what she missed by letting go of those long-ago friends.  Friendships are a special treasure.

January Doldrums

It's that time of year. January. Snow. Gray Sky. And then came the freeze! What a freeze. For 2 days while the thermometer stayed below zero, Maggie and I holed up inside.


Then the snow melted. The weather warmed up. And it RAINED. I think the sun has gone south for the winter. It came out one day for about 10 minutes, but I missed it. I was in the basement packing up the Christmas decorations.


I'm supposed to be grateful for all things. Well...... let's see.... hmmm....how can I say this?
I'm not grateful for the below 0 temps, the -35 windchill, and the constant gray sky! Maggie has been asleep for a week. I keep checking her to make sure she is breathing. She gets up, walks in a circle around the kitchen island for 3 hours at night, since she can't get out for her walk.


The icy snow has been a challenge for her, too. Twice I've had to go out and pull her up the hill to the front door. The first time was during the height of the freeze when the wind and the cold were just too much for her. And the second time came when she squatted to pee. She slipped on the snow and sat down and couldn't get any footing to get up. She just sat and waited for me to walk down and help her up. She is a constant reminder that getting old isn't fun.


So how am I handling all this great weather? Well, yesterday, I finally gave in. I woke up in a bad mood, and as the day progressed I didn't get much better. Finally around mid-afternoon I grabbed my coat, and a leash. It was gray. It was wet. It was above 32! One out of 3 was an improvement. Best of all, the sidewalks were clear of snow and salt so Maggie and I went for a walk. We both felt better when we got home. She went back to sleep. I added a Vitamin D infusion.....a nice blend of Florida Sunshine and Russian grains and potatoes. When we lived in the south a Screwdriver was a nice end to the day. Here in the north it becomes a must-have when January and February set in.


Let me end this mid-winter rant on a more serious note.


We survived the Polar Vortex very well. Pipes didn't freeze. Power stayed on. Not everyone was so lucky. I had a fire in the fireplace, and an electric blanket on the bed. I holed up on the really cold days with hot chocolate and a jigsaw puzzle. How VERY blessed I am!


In Florida cold spells could mean nights in the 20's. That's bitter cold when you're used to the 50's or 60's. When I lived in Tampa and we went through cold spells I worried and prayed about the homeless that were living under bridges and huddled around fires in a barrel trying to stay warm. I snuggled into my warm waterbed. (OH, they are so much better than electric blankets. The mattress is warm when you crawl in! Wow!) And I gave thanks, and prayed for those without heat. Since then I've never taken for granted the blessing of a warm bed.




In Pennsylvania, I still think of the homeless but I know there are many "Warming Shelters" for those who are without heat. I am thankful that there are people who are looking out for those in need.


And when the winter doldrums set in, I'm grateful for a warm coat to wear on a brisk day. I felt so much better once I inhaled fresh air. And then I warmed up with that great OJ infusion. And for that I am also Very thankful!

Resolution 2014--In All Things Give Thanks

Resolutions! To make or not to make; THAT is the question. Recently I've heard a few sides to this issue that make sense. Some people prefer not to make them because they feel anytime is the right time to make a resolution, to affect personal change, to set goals. I agree.

There is the other camp that likes the idea of taking one day to really contemplate the past year, and the coming one and try to identify how 'the man in the mirror' (headnod to Michael Jackson) might make a difference. I agree with that idea, too.

And I tend to follow that model in my own life.

Last year, I apparently was dissatisfied with the way I made use of my time and approached each day because as 2013 began my resolution was to change that. My overall goal was to live each day purposefully. I always have a to-do list, but sometimes I still felt as if I was spinning my wheels. It was time to take control of mindless time on the computer, unmotivated days when nothing seemed to get accomplished, planning that didn't come to fruition. How did I do? Pretty well. However, what really changed was how I greeted each day. I found a song that spoke to me about beginning and ending each day knowing I had 10,000 reasons to celebrate that God had a plan for me, even if things weren't going the way I wanted them to. And as the year came to a close, I could see that the attitude from the previous year was gone. I'm not sure I accomplished a whole lot more, but I felt much better about myself! Mission Accomplished.

Recently I saw a suggestion to choose one Bible verse as the goal for the next year and to find ways each day to put it into action. I like that idea. I may find that one verse for the year is overkill and perhaps I will change it every few months. On the other hand, now that I've chosen my verse, I will probably find frequent opportunities to use it. 1 Thessalonians 5:18 For In Everything Give Thanks....

I'm generally a thankful person, but in the next several months there will be some big changes in my life. We will be moving to a new home, in a new community. Larry will be retiring. We will be starting over, but this time we will do it without the benefit of many of the devices we've had at hand for getting connected. Children helped introduce us to many people our age. Getting them settled and into things was a conduit for finding out where stuff was. Walking the dog was a great ice breaker in meeting neighbors. Employment introduced us to co-workers who became friends, and told us the best doctors, and hair dressers and lots of other important stuff.

I don't embrace change. I much prefer stability and routine. This year, I will have many chances to grumble, feel disconnected, miss my old neighborhood and friends. Larry and I will be learning to live side by side 24/7. ...(In all things give thanks.)... He's actually more nervous about this than I am. During Thanksgiving week we stayed in the same house, without a TV, and little furniture, while it rained outside for days, and we painted rooms inside for days, and we never got into a hissy fit about something so I figure we were doing pretty well! But that was one week. After years of having him on the road literally 1/3 to 1/2 of the time, having him home 24/7/52 will be a challenge for both of us.

We are moving to a smaller house. Sorting through belongings that were collected over years of marriage and raising a family, and deciding what goes to the new house and what goes to a yard sale will be a challenge. Then there is the packing. ...(In all things give thanks?....Ugh, packing.)... And the actual move. I HATE moving. Larry and I both remember the depth of feeling when one exhausted night after our last move I looked at him and said, with steely calm and resolve, NEVER AGAIN! Well, here we go again!... (Yes, Connie....In ALL things give thanks...well, I'm working on it).

This move is voluntary. We chose this community. We like this house. We have already met several neighbors and they are friendly and social, and our age. We have found a church that we like and have met people that go there. All in all this should be an easy move. But I still know there will be moments when I grumble. When I'm exasperated. When I'm lonely. When I....need to remember that in every situation, there is blessing. And that most of the best growth comes through challenge. And that whether I see it or feel it at the time, and even when I don't understand, I still need to thank God for the blessing, both seen and unseen. Because in every move we've made, even the bad ones, there were things I learned, people we met, stuff we did, that was good.

Last year apparently was a building block for this year, even though I didn't know it. The song I sang at the beginning of each day will carry me through this year as well. My favorite line:

 "It's time to sing your song again. Whatever may pass and whatever lies before me, let me be singing when the evening comes." (10,000 Reasons/Bless the Lord written by Jonas Myrin and Matt Redman, Arranged and Orchestrated by Cliff Duren)

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11 NIV

And for that I can truly give thanks! Happy 2014, everyone.

The Littlest Angel; a story of Warren and Samantha

The children's choir walked up the center aisle of the church, tallest ones leading, followed by the smaller ones until they stood at the front of the church, off to the side of the manger scene. Moms, dads and grandparents strained to see their little ones as they prepared to sing the songs that went with the Christmas pageant. The voluminous old choir gowns that passed for angel costumes had seen many pageants over the years.

The littlest angel stood in the front row, her head just reaching the shoulder of the other 'angels' in the choir. Her long locks draped over the shoulder of her white angel gown that was several sizes too big and reached nearly to her shoes. Her brother, a full head and shoulder taller than her, stood on one side, while another boy and girl flanked her on the right and the older children stood behind them. Golden tinsel garland halos encircled their heads.

A chorus of young voices rang clear as they sang the first song. "O come all ye faithful..." sang her brother earnestly. His head nodded as he emphasized each syllable. And with each syllable, his halo dipped further and further across his brow. He reached up to steady it and push it back in place.

The littlest angel sang not a word, but looked silently out at the congregation clutching her old pink kitty, the one concession her mother made as she talked her into joining the other children in the angel choir. Her fist wrapped around it's neck clutching it to her. 'Meow' would not have lived long had he had air in his lungs instead of stuffing. Not with that grip.

The next song began. She moved not a muscle, except her eyes, which shifted from left to right searching out anyone who would come rescue her. They reminded her mother of the eyes on the black and white cat clock she'd seen in cartoons, as they moved back and forth. In the congregation, her grandparents sat grinning proudly from ear to ear as they watched their adorable grandchildren.

The littlest angel looked down at the floor...and her halo slipped over her face and dropped to the ground. Only her head moved as she looked back up. A boy sitting on the step in front of her picked up the garland and passed it to her brother. Matter-of-factly, and oblivious of the people looking on, he dutifully picked up the garland, turned to his sister and began to arrange it on her head. His robe draped over her face, obscuring her from sight, as he patted it into place.

In the congregation, the grandparents sat with hands over their mouths, hiding the laughter as they watched the two, coping with the dilemma of costumes, songs, and propriety. But their shaking shoulders gave them away.

The third song began. The halo slipped down. The littlest angel did not move. The older brother picked it up and turned to his sister. As the rest of the choir sang, they faced each other, she looking up at him trusting him to fix everything. He shaped the garland, arranged it on her head, studied his work, adjusted the halo, and patted it into place, again. Pink kitty dangled limply at her side, but as long as he was there, and her brother took care of her, she could make it through the show.

She spoke not a word...but stood still through the show. And the grandparents wiped their eyes, stilled their shoulders, and beamed at their grandchildren. For what is a Christmas pageant without a littlest angel, and her big brother to look after her.

I Don't Do Sick

I haven't been blogging! Have you missed me? We've gone from Halloween to Christmas and I've barely noticed. Granted, in between there were 2 trips and Thanksgiving, so I have been busy. But writing has really taken a back burner to anything else. My creative skills are lying in a cold frying pan waiting for someone to light the flame.

 

Around the beginning of November, I came down with a bad sore throat and a fever. The doctor ruled out Strep, but put me on an antibiotic and directions for chicken soup, lots of fluids and plenty of rest. The fever subsided and 2 days later, I was feeling perky and energetic, in spite of the cough that seemed to be a residual of the sore throat.

 

3 weeks ago, I lost my voice. That is rare, but this time it was gone for several days. Larry was torn between reveling in the silence and being frustrated as he tried to read my lips. Round 2 at the doctors! More antibiotics and another strep test. (Negative, again). As my voice came back, so did my cough.

 

Week 5 of this nonsense and a third doctor's visit left me with a diagnosis of a sinus infection, a whole regimen of drugs I could take, and more instructions for plenty of fluids and lots of rest. There was only one problem. I felt fine. And it's Christmas. Who gets lots of rest around Christmas?

The common line of thought is that men don't see a doctor when they should. I've started to realize a few truths about Larry and I. 1) Larry is exceptionally good about keeping doctor's appointments, and seeing a doctor when he doesn't feel well. 2) He has no trouble following doctor's orders, for rest, medication, tests, etc. 3) I am not nearly as good as he is.

I grew up with a doctor for a dad, so I will follow their instructions very well, but it is only recently that I realized I am much more reluctant to make an appointment unless I am really feeling badly. I don't get sick very often. The only 'over the counter' drug I take is aspirin or advil.

For weeks people have been telling me to 'get better', 'feel better', 'get lots of rest', plus plenty of advice from others who have found what works for them. Feel Better? I feel fine, mostly,... usually.... and that's the problem. Apparently if I don't have a fever, aches, pains, I don't consider myself sick. A cold is not 'sick'. A sinus infection is not 'sick'. Once the antibiotics kick in and I'm not contagious, I'm not 'sick'. I've been very good about taking the meds. But getting plenty of rest has been a lot trickier.

I'm also realizing that I may 'feel fine', but I'm not at the top of my game. My head is in the clouds, my thoughts are befuddled. I have a hard time planning my day. It has as much to do with the lineup of pills I am taking to combat this sinus infection, as it does the actual sinus infection. Whatever the reason, I'm tired of hearing the inside of my head and living in a fog.

I may be a slow learner, but I'm realizing that I may not be bed-ridden, but I do need to take it easy, rest up, and drink plenty of fluids. I'm learning to go a little slower, and try to push a little less. Even as Christmas looms. I'm really ready to be rid of this. I guess it's time to learn how to 'be' sick.

Final Note: It's taken me a few days to write this. On Friday I suddenly realized the fog had lifted! I still have a week's worth of meds to take, which I will, and I will continue with the fluids and rest recommendations, but currently there is a light at the end of the tunnel....Hopefully it's not an oncoming train.

Halloween--Neither Rain nor sleet....

I'm well aware that Halloween was a couple of weeks ago, but I've been busy with my grandkids, and frankly, blogging takes a back seat to those tykes! However, it is one of my favorite yearly events so I'm catching you up on what went on.

There is a tradition in our neighborhood that on Halloween night those of us participating in the annual candy grab fest open our garage doors or park ourselves at the end of the driveway and await the onslaught of tiny monsters bound and determined to wiggle their hands into the candy basket and scarf off more than "1 candy bar each, please". It is one of the things I love about Halloween here in Western Pennsylvania. My neighbor and I chat across the street during the lull. A police car cruises slowly by, lights flashing, as he keeps an eye on things. And as the kids go from house to house, we can all keep an eye on the little ones. It gives the whole evening a protective, and social air. When the weather is right, it's perfect! Of course, a blizzard can change things, but so far I've been lucky. I have been away the years we have suffered a snowy Halloween.

Next year I will be in Georgia, living in a small neighborhood, at the end of a dark cul-de-sac. I don't expect many trick-or-treaters. This year, I really wanted to be home so I could take part in what will likely be my last neighborhood Halloween. The day before, I brought in my pumpkins and carved them. The candy was opened and put in the candy bowl. I was ready.

The weather was looking ok...but the weather guy was worried about rain. Oct. 31 dawned gray, and cool, but the main rain looked like it would hold off until after trick of treat. Of course, when has the weather ever checked the weather forecast??? Certainly not this time. The rain started in earnest at 4:00. It was not a downpour, but a light steady rain. I looked at my huge bowl of candy. Normally, I only buy candy I like so I don't mind whatever I have left over. This year, of course, I bought whatever was on sale, even if I didn't like it. (A good idea if you are on a diet. I should be...but I'm not.) I stirred up the candy to make sure the sweet tarts were on top and the chocolate was at the bottom.

As 6:00 neared I was determined to be outside on my last Halloween. We have a small  roof over our front door so I put out a chair, added a small table with the candy, and lit the pumpkins. I was ready.

Maggie looked at me, questioningly. All of our dogs have loved Halloween. I shook my head at her. "Sorry girl, there's not enough room out here for you, too," I told her.

I donned a rain coat to keep out the chill air and keep off the splatters and settled down...and waited. It might be a light night tonight, I thought.

The first 2 girls came by and I told them to help themselves. They did. 2 fistfuls of candy disappeared into their bags. I waited some more. My neighbor was holed up in her garage out of the rain. We waved to each other through the dark.

And the kids trickled by...first a couple, then a few more.... and then the steady stream that we usually see. Umbrellas waved uselessly in the air and galoshes splashed through the puddles as tykes in princess slippers joyfully ran down the sidewalk followed by zombies, super heroes, and assorted waifs.

Who was I kidding? Halloween tricksters slowed by a little rain??? I remember a line from my childhood that went: "Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds." Hmmm....was that for US Mail Carriers, or kids on Halloween? Beats me!

I checked the candy level in the basket as the next herd approached. "1 each please."

Just Call Me Frederick

One of my favorite children's books was Frederick by Lio Lionni. It was a story told like a fable of a field mouse who spent his days absorbing the colors, the feel of the sun, the words that would remind him of sunny days when he and the other mice were holed up underground in the cold, dark winter.

The other mice are annoyed with Frederick because while he is enjoying the present, they are preparing for the future. Of course, when winter comes, Frederick has little food stored up for himself. As the winter drags on, the other mice get bored and restless. That's when Frederick comes through. Frederick starts talking. With words he paints pictures of flowers, sunshine, and warmer days for his friends. The moral of the story is a wise one. There is a need for the gifts each of us provide.

Lately I feel like Frederick. Not the wisdom part...the wistful part. When I walk I can't take my eyes off of the trees along the sidewalk. I seem to stop and photograph everything. One tree will be all green, the next is a shade of red so bright it almost hurts the eyes. The hillsides are a myriad of colors; gold, red, orange, and green. The pear trees haven't begun to change, but the eastern redbud has turned bright yellow and is dropping its leaves.

As I walk I breathe in the air, soak up the sun, drink in the colors and try to embed them all in my brain so that on a cold, gray day in February I will be able to pull them from my memory bank.

Part of me is still the 'worker mouse'. Thankfully, I don't have to worry about gathering nuts for the winter months. Giant Eagle will make sure there is plenty of stuff to make my own comforting soups and stews. But there is still a little work to be done. Monday I mowed the grass while soaking up the blue sky and rust colored hills.

Maggie wandered the yard sniffing the air and the grass for the many smells left by deer, rabbits, and other unseen visitors.

Yesterday I pulled frost-wilted plants from the beds and thinned out the herb garden, breathing in the sun-warmed sage and thyme. Maggie laid beside me in the grass soaking up the sun.

Any excuse to be outside, I thought. Just call us "Frederick".