Funerals

I suppose one does arrive at the "age of funerals", when so many of the friends, neighbors, colleagues, church friends, etc. leave this world.

On Wednesday, I attended an especially moving funeral service for a woman from church.  She has been fighting cancer for the past year.   Let's call her "Donna".   I have not known her for very long, though I did visit her in her home, during her last week.  Even so,  I really didn't expect to be as deeply affected as I was.  I had a lump in my throat several times, and tears in my eyes more than once.

She was only a few years older than I am.   Her children are probably the age of my children.  The same would be true with the grandchildren---some teens, some tots. Donna had known her share of challenges and grief.  She was a person of tremendous faith, and strength.  One simply could not listen to the testimonials given by her children and grandchildren without being deeply moved.  One grand-daughter, a high school senior, chose to sing the song,  "For Good", from the Broadway musical Wicked.   It started off beautifully;  then about half way through, she was overcome with emotion and could not go on.  Her father came and stood with her.  The accompanist continued to play skillfully, giving her a chance to start at an appropriate moment with the music.  For the final chorus,  the grand-daughter's voice returned, and she sang out those final words with a crystal clear voice, soaring.

I know I'm who I am today, because I knew you.  Who's to say if I've been changed for the better,  I do believe I've been changed for the better;
And because I knew you, because I knew you,  I've been changed for good.

Vineyard Owners

A couple of weeks ago,  Ladies Literary Club had a guest speaker who came to tell about the book he had written about a wine vineyard in the Finger Lakes.    He was the writer, and as the writer,  he won an international award on his book.  He had spent a considerable amount of time interviewing the owners of the vineyard.   Accompanying him was the wife-half of the couple who own the vineyard.

She also spoke.  The husband and wife team started their vineyard late in life, after their children were grown, and with little money.  They have produced an award winning product, but have always struggled financially.

She spoke about how much her husband worries about the grapes, and how so far, they have managed to reap their grape crop.   But this year,  with weird weather patterns,   warm spring weather came too soon.  We have had 80 degree temperatures in mid March. If the buds come out on the vines, and then there is a hard freeze,  it could destroy the potential grapes.

Ever since I heard her speak,  I have been worried about the grape vines!  It really had an affect on me.  I read a novel not long ago that was also set in a vineyard, and detailed all the careful pruning that had to be done, and the risks and dangers involving storms and wind and cold.   Suddenly, it felt very personal.   I can't help but wonder,  if I feel the anxiety for the grapes, me a stranger, a non-grower, how hard it must be for the owners of the vineyard.  I can see why she would say that her husband spends many sleepless nights.

My husband remembers well loosing a whole season's crop of apples for the same reason, back in the 1940's.

Tonight promises a hard frost, low temperatures, and a threat to fruit blossoms everywhere.  Blessing to those who have to stay awake all night worrying!  My heart goes out to you!

Not Yet Groovin'

Not very long ago,  I complimented my husband on how cheerfully he went off to skiing, regardless of how poor the conditions might have been.    I do have to say that the reverse is not true.   He has not yet gotten into his spring groove.   Ordinarily,  he would get another full month of skiing, and that has him flustered and stuck in his grieving.

While I am (and the rest of the world)   rejoicing in the glorious spring weather,  he is lamenting the loss of winter. He has not yet established his spring routine.  That will eventually include going in to the university to hang out with his cronies there several days a week, and having great conversations and coffee,etc.  It will include cutting the grass a couple of times a week, perhaps. It will probably involve some mulch along the way, much to my chagrin.   But he has not made this transition just yet.

The past couple of days, he has spent 'cleaning up' from the skiing season, washing all his gear, and putting it away to be ready for next time.   I suggested that maybe he ought to go to Utah where all the snow is, but he said he did not want to do that.

Of course, it may well be that this beautiful spring weather is not really a completely 'done deal'.   We could still get winter in April,  which would be a shame.  The ski resorts around here are closed.  Trees are in bloom, a freeze could do terrible damage, so I am hoping that is not true.  Nothing good could come of it.

I suppose it is at this moment of the  year,  when I am thrilled and in my glory with the blossoming season,  when my husband is no longer in his element, that we are most at odds.

We just do not run by the same season!

Zanni as Annie

Today we attended a high school production of Annie.  Granddaughter Zanni played the lead role and did  a superb job.  She has a lovely, strong, versatile singing voice.  Pretty much all of the family was there.   Even V&M came up from Long Island.

We had lunch together in Ithaca before the play, and then all convened at the school to get good seats.   Once again, I had the very best seats in the house, perfect shot for photographs, and again, they announced no flash photography.   It was so disappointing.  At the intermission,  Gerry worked at figuring out how to turn off the flash on my digital camera, which we had not done before.  In the second half, I was able to take non-flash pictures, though the vast majority of them were much too fuzzy, and had to be deleted.   I did get a few.

Anyway,  it was a thrill to be there as a large supportive family.  Zandrea did such a good job and everyone was so proud of here.  It was a three hour production, however, and I can only imagine that she is exhausted, after also performing that same three hour production last night!

One thing that amazed me is how they changed the scene from the orphanage to the mansion.   There were two completely different sets, switched in a matter of minutes, from a scummy run-down orphanage, to the residence of a billionnaire.   Most impressive, though I still cannot figure out how they did that!

Zanni looked beautiful with her red hair (natural) and curls.

What a musical weekend it has been!

Cortland's Broadway

Tonight we attended a production of "Broadway on Church Street".    I don't know when I have been so thoroughly entertained!   And I actually thought it surpassed Broadway, because the entertainers were beloved local folks!   The cast was made up of a couple of children,  half a dozen teenagers,  and singers and dancers of more advanced years.   All the numbers were from Broadway musicals, past and present.

One young teenage boy sang a solo.  He is probably no more than fourteen or fifteen, and out he came in his new suit, a top hat, and sang "On the Street Where You Live".  When it was over, and the audience was expressing appreciation, and he was leaving the stage, he jumped up and clicked his heels!  Oh, the abandon of youth!

There was a rousing, incredible organ version, at full capacity  (well maybe not) of Phantom of the Opera!   It was spectacular.   The organist wore a black cape.  The light shone in such a way as to cast a tall shadow on the wall of the balcony!

The funniest number by far was a song called "The Book Report".  I don't know what musical it came from, if any,  but there were four adults playing the parts of elementary school children given the task of writing a book report on Peter Cottontail,  of not less than 100 words.   I can't even describe how it was done---with harmonizing parts sung at the same time, with contrasting words.  There's probably a word for that, but I don't know what it is.  We laughed all the way through it.

Other memorable numbers were The Man From LaMancha,  which was so well done.  The person who had the role of Don Quixiote was perfect for the part!  He also has a strong, rich, powerful voice, that did justice to the song.   A cute number was sung by a married couple:  Sue Me.    Both have exceptional voices, and it was a great number for them not only to sing, but also to act!

There were interesting percussion sounds that added depth and interest to many of the pieces.    I don't know when I have been so completely engaged.  Gerry also was laughing, chuckling.

My only disappointment was that they asked us not to take flash photographs.  I restrained until the closing number, when everyone else was doing it.  

So much talent! So very much talent!   I feel so fortunate to be in a place in my life to just enjoy!

Commendation for Gerry

Recently, I attended the annual "Geezer Skier" luncheon with husband Gerry.  They have formed a social group, and named themselves Geezer Skiers, an affectionate name they use with pride, I might add.   There was a reporter there that day, and she interviewed many of the senior citizen skiers.   The suggested age for geezerhood is seventy plus years.  The photographer also took some pictures, and the end result of all of this was a full page spread in the local newspaper.   It was great press for the tough old geezer skiers!

They did give out an appreciation award, for the good job the ski resort did in keeping snow present and groomed. The purpose of this particular post is to give a blog award to Gerry for his positive attitude this season of less than perfect, often less than appealing ski conditions.

Off he went happily,  even if he was skiing on a thin coat of white stuff, with green patches showing through.  I was concerned that the mild and snowless winter would affect his mood,  but not so!   He would just say:  "You get what you get!"  And off he went.

To some degree, that is because it is not all about the skiing.   Oh, that is certainly important.   But the secondary, and equally important purpose of the geezers is the gathering.  It provides a good source of socializing, male bonding, laughter.  Of course, it is great exercise,  too! Some of the gathered geezers are widowers, or never married.  A few come as couples.  There are even a few female geezers.  As a non-skier, I am not in that loop,  but glad for Gerry that he has that group.

So hats off to Gerry, who earns the Good Spirits award this year for keeping a positive attitude in the face of poor conditions,  being upbeat and cheerful,  and for being totally dedicated to his passion, even on days when he was the only geezer there!

That's my Ger!  Sociable, committed, faithful, and skilled.     Even to the slopes!

Failure

There was a human interest piece at the end of  the 6:30 news that totally rocks my world.  Diane Sawyer was interviewing Sara Blakely,  the inventor of Spanx, who is now a very successful billionaire entrepreneur.

Blakely told how her father would ask his children at the dinner table each night:  "What did you fail at today?"  One might report trying out for a sport and being terrible at it.  And their father would give them a big high five. This astonishes me, and is such a marvelous twist, such a healthy attitude, such a revolutionary approach;  I wish I had thought of that!

Rather than always striving for success,  Blakely's method of operation is to look for the gift in failure.  She says that every failure has a gift.

Failure is not something I was ever comfortable with.  Oh,  I certainly had my share of encounters with failure,  and those really shaped me, to make sure I did not repeat the mistakes.   Failure was more likely to make me feel shame or embarrassment.

I will say that fear of failure was never something that kept me from taking risks, trying something new or different, stepping up, stepping out.  But the experience of failure was always a very excruciatingly painful.


Oh, how I wish I had learned early on that in fact,  failure is really to be celebrated and embraced.

Of course, it is never too late to learn something life-changing.   Next time I fail,  I'll be much less likely to feel humiliated.   I'll just high five myself and receive the gift!

Mentoring

I got a call out of the blue recently, asking if I would act as a Mentor for a woman who is a candidate for the ministry.   Actually,  I have been out of that loop for quite a while.  I was surprised to be asked.   I have to jog my memory to remember what I once knew,  and use my brains cells to learn a totally new process.  Everything has changed since those days when I served on the Board of Ordained Ministry.   What was once four separate Conferences have merged into one larger one.  New process, new people, new rules.

What used to be done with an actual paper manual, is now all done all on-line.  So I am trying to navigate the web and follow sometimes confusing messages.   But I think I will probably figure it out.

I have now met with my mentee,  "Cathy".  It will be fun and interesting walking with her through the process.  She reminds me of what it was like for me at the beginning.  The excitement, the thrill,  the humility,  the insecurities, the surprise,  the uncertainties, etc.   All that and more.   She is planning to be a Local Pastor, and not go the seminary route.  [being a Local Pastor requires completing the Course of Study ].

 For a married woman,  there are always multiple challenges to consider---the itineracy, the cost, the demands.  My husband was a tenured professor, not really portable;  I had a small child and multiple teenagers. We owned a home.  At that time, I was not inclined toward the itineracy* ,  since I lived it as a preacher's daughter.    [*itineracy means you go where you are sent]

But in the end, it was not about what I wanted,  but what God had in mind.  Life circumstances changed;  illness happened,  children grew,  seminary was a slow process while serving as a student pastor, paid for a little at a time.   It all unfolded in ways I would never ever have imagined.  

And to be perfectly honest,  I guess it still is!   I would not want it any other way!

Getting Lost

Gerry's internal directional compass, ordinarily superb, seems to malfunction completely whenever we are on an island.  (Long Island,  Martha's Vineyard,  Hilton Head Island).   When we first arrived on Hilton Head, we had a very hard time finding our resort!   Even Mapquest malfunctioned also!  The directions I had printed off were completely bogus.  When we got out the GPS,  we did find our destination.  We had not really needed it before, as the entire trip was made on just a couple of highways.  I also find the voice of our Tom Tom totally annoying  (unless we are really really lost!)

When I look at the picture below,  I recall exactly why it is that everything is hard to find.

When you are driving around the main roads, everything looks the same.   There was nothing on that island until the 1950's, so everything is relatively new.  The layout is clearly planned to blend in completely with the surrounding environment.   Most, (or all) buildings tend to be the color of sand,  and the roofs tend to be the green pictured above.  Wherever there are buildings, there is a lush growth of trees and other vegetation.

The signs are all at ground level.  A low sand-colored sign might be in front of a driveway saying "Port Royal Village", and you think it is a private entrance to a residence or resort, when in fact, it is a regular road leading to a variety of different kinds of establishments.   After following GPS directions to our resort, down winding roads,  it took us a while to figure out how to get back to a highway!   Even I will admit that it was very confusing.

I learned something about our relationship.  Since Gerry has little experience following my internal compass,  (even when I clearly know the way)  he was unable to listen,  even when he was lost!     I tried to laugh and keep my sense of humor about that.

It might have been better to just insist on driving myself!

I did exactly that for the last three hours driving home.   It was raining, sleeting, snowing, and very very slippery.  The closer we got to home, the more cars we saw off the road.  We got home safely.   Thank the Lord!

St. Andrews By The Sea

We last visited Hilton Head in 1994, eighteen years ago.  At that time, we attended the St. Andrews By the Sea United Methodist Church.   We returned to worship there last Sunday.

It is such an architecturally lovely building, located in a beautiful setting.  But aside from those external factors, the worship experience itself was uplifting, refreshing,  and restored my faith in United Methodist Churches.

The main reason why I say that is that the church was full of people, on a non-holiday February Sunday. The sanctuary has probably a 300 to 400 capacity.  Churches in the part of the country we live in are rarely full,  with the exception of perhaps on Easter and Christmas.

I'd have to say that as a person-in-the-pew,  this may well be my favorite 'experience of church' in many years.   The pastor gave an excellent sermon and a good children's message.  It was Communion Sunday, and the serving of Communion was done efficiently.  Everyone knew their parts throughout the service, including the greeters, the ushers and the acolytes,  and did them well.  

I don't expect we will ever return to the island,  but if for any reason we did,  this is a church I would definitely want to attend again.

We returned on a rainy day to take these pictures.

One observation I would make is the congregation was 99% white.   Certainly, there are many non-white workers on the island, though I do not know where they actually live.

The church we attend with our youngest daughter on Long Island where she lives is perhaps the most ethnically diverse United Methodist Church I have ever experienced, much to its credit.

I thought of her on Sunday.  She plays the bells at her church.  The bell choir was playing at St. Andrews By the Sea.