Thanksgiving Times Three

I sat drinking my coffee this morning reflecting on our Thanksgiving celebrations and their significance.

Our family gathered last Sunday, which is when everyone could be here.  We had a lovely meal, as well as a birthday party for Emma.  It was a great time. Needless to say, my family is the most important thing in my life.

That meant that on the actual Thanksgiving Day on Thursday, Gerry and I were alone together.  I did cook a Thanksgiving meal, though a fairly modest one.  We enjoyed a quiet, stress free, mellow, comfortable day filled with cooking, eating, watching television,  reading and just being together.

Last night we entertained friends whose company we very much enjoyed.  I made another Thanksgiving dinner, this one more elaborate and fancy than the one on Thanksgiving Day.  These friends had never been at our house before, so that is always fun, showing off our lovely home,  and my love of cooking.

As I thought about the three thanksgiving meals, it occurred to me that those represent the three most important things in my life.  My children and grandchildren and their spouses, through whom I am greatly blessed.   My husband and marriage, for which I am deeply grateful.

And friends, both new and old.  We have not lived in one place during our marriage, but have lived in four places---Dryden, Moravia, Fayetteville, and Cortland--due to my years in the ministry.  The disadvantage of moving and changing your place of residence is that you are always somewhat transient.  The advantage is that you are constantly making new friends.  There are people who are dear to us from all the places we have lived and worked.

Family, marriage, friends.  To that list of things for which I am grateful, I would add faith and health.  Both of those give joy and meaning to all the rest.

What A Morning!

Sunday morning was a special thrill for the lyricist (me) and composer (Paulette) who wrote the Thanksgiving anthem, which was sung by the adult choir, the children's choir, and the chorus by the entire congregation.

As noted by Judy Cain's Facebook post [see below],  there was quite an age range, and there were also additional instrumentalists.

Probably six months ago, organist and composer Paulette Fry asked me to select some text from scripture and write a poem, which could become a song.   We had done one other anthem earlier in the year. The scripture I chose was from Psalm 65, a song of thanksgiving.  First came the words, then came the music, which was absolutely phenomenal.  Then came the choir director Sue Bonne and the choir, including the Sunday School kids, working their magic putting flesh and blood to bones.  What a morning, indeed!

To add to the special-ness,  I learned later from Paulette, that she had given flowers in honor of the man who donated the incredible organ to the church.  Usually,  after the service,  flowers are given to individuals who may be ill, or in the hospital, or celebrating a special event.  They chose to give the flowers to me!  So the goodness and glory of the morning are still being enjoyed!

'You know that song, "My Lord, What A Morning!"? That's what it felt like yesterday at UPC Cortland. One of the anthems was written by two UPC-ers, and the choir that shared it with us had an age range of over 80 years, from the 2.5-year-old in the front row to the senior citizens in the back row. AND the anthems were accompanied by piano, digital tympani, percussion, flute, French horn, and glockenspiel. I'm telling you, it was awesome, literally awesome, and I walked out of there well and truly blessed!'         by Judy Cain

We Didn't Know

When I fell in love, I fell hard indeed

with my wonderful husband so dear,

Clueless was I of the perks to come

From marrying an engineer.

He said that he could say the same

The years would prove the teacher…

Revealing that he had surprisingly wed,

A United Methodist preacher.

A master at building decks and such,

Electrician and plumber too,

All those skills were unknown to me

It would unfold, all he could do.

He didn’t know that I would be

A very good tennis partner,

An excellent cook,  an organizer,

A poet and an author.

We didn’t know what the years would show

When I fell for him and he fell for me

But we both believe, 

when it comes to life,

We won the lottery!

Flukes and Coincidences

I tend to experience a lot of flukes and coincidences in my life.

Like today, for instance.  At the last minute, I decided to stop at Wegmans' before I met my lunch appointment. Right at the entrance to the store, I bumped right into a very close friend, unexpectedly.  Lovely surprise.

Another interesting coincidence happened at our house in the past couple of days.  Gerry has recently gotten interested in historical markers.  He wants to photograph the markers in Cortland County and perhaps make a brochure for the local Museum, among other things.  It is a fun little project for him.  So, he ordered a book on signs and the stories behind the markers.

Let me back up a moment and say that a lovely lady, Marilyn Wheeler, was a close friend of mine who passed away a couple of years ago.  I used to see her often. She was like a surrogate mother to me.

Last night,  Gerry told me to look inside the cover of the book he had bought at Amazon.com, which had just arrived in the mail.   It is a used book.  And the book used to belong to Platt Wheeler.  Who knows when it might have left Platt's possession,  or what circuitous route it might have taken when it left his possession, before it found its way to our house?
 
The fact that it did find its way here is nothing short of miraculous to me.  We live in a different city now.  Gerry's interest in historical markers is the result of our travels in July, so that interest is new.  Obviously it is something that Platt used to be interested in too.

I could not help but wonder whether or not Marilyn somehow mischievously orchestrated that, wanting to say hello.  Hello Marilyn, Hello Platt.

Senior Poetry

Anyone who has read my blog over a long period of time knows that I am a poet.  That is one thing I can remember writing from earliest childhood.   For any occasion, birthday, celebration,  graduation,  in honor of a person---you name it, I could pen a poem about it!

I still do, occasionally.  Last weekend, I was invited to share thoughts about a very special man's life, in the form of a poem, which I did at his Memorial Service.  The family appreciated the words, saying that it was 'right on' in terms of who he was.

I am not always a consistent blogger.  I sometimes go a couple of weeks without any posts.  It occurred to me this morning, that I could use my blog as a poetry place,  a site where I might "publish" some poems.

When I had that thought, I was thinking about poetry about getting older--senior citizen poetry.  I wondered if I could write any poetry on that topic?

A very difficult part of aging

 is being witness to

all the cruel things one's body will do.

No matter how much the mind has to say,

Gravity will always have its way.

Some flabby skin here

 and wrinkles there

hair all going to white.

Does one accept the process

and do it with grace, or fight

your inevitable plight?

Though surgery has certainly crossed my mind,

at the moment I am still more inclined

to celebrate those things you cannot see.

I am loving my life, internally at peace,

enjoying serenity.

Never mind the wrinkles and sagging,

and all that shows on my face;

I'm grateful for health and life and love,

and especially for the wisdom of age.

Long Lost Cousins

I am planning a trip to Mississippi in early March.   I have two uncles who live there.  I believe I should see them one more time.  Both of my parents have been deceased for quite a while.  I was always very close to my Uncle Clinton, my father's brother. Because he has dementia, I'm not entirely sure he will know me, but I believe that the trip will be worth the effort.

A long lost cousin made contact a couple of years ago, and is now a Facebook friend.  She said on Facebook that if I am ever in the area, we should get together.  I told her I was coming and asked if we could meet somewhere for lunch in between.  Half way in between is Jackson, Mississippi. She is from Baton Rouge Louisiana.  Joyce is a first cousin whom I have not seen for over fifty years.

My mother's parents had both died by the time I was five or six years old.  Consequently, we never had family get-togethers at their house.  Visits to my uncles'  homes were infrequent, and therefore, I lost contact with those families fairly early in my life,  especially after I moved north.

My cousin Joyce is bringing along to lunch a couple of her sisters, and her mother.  She also contacted a first cousin from another one of my mother's brothers.   It is shaping up to be a convention of cousins.  The truth is,  I do not really know these people at all.  Still, I am looking forward to it.  It ought to be an interesting occasion.  At the very least, we can share our life stories and catch up on the past fifty or fifty five years!

My other grandparents, my Dad's parents, lived to ripe old ages.   Throughout my childhood, I enjoyed  large family gatherings at their house.

My hope would be that long after I am dead and gone, my children will still get together on occasion and enjoy one another's company.

Cutting the Grass

Not me, but a tractor like ours! I like her yellow heels!

Gerry is temporarily on limited physical activity.  We decided that the grass needs to be cut one more time before winter, so I got elected.   Back in the day, I was always the one to cut the grass, but have not done so now in many years!  After Gerry retired, that became his job exclusively.

So I've never used our tractor to mow our lawn before today.  I always loved cutting the grass in the past.  It is an extremely satisfying job where one can actually see the immediate results of their labor.

But it wasn't as easy as it looks.  Our yard is very very hilly, lots of curves and changes in elevation.  There are no flat parts at all.  The tractor was often tilted to one side and I had to lean hard the other direction, because I felt like I was falling off.  I learned to go up and down the hills, rather than across the curve.   My legs are very short, so I have to be sitting forward, with no back support.  All the bouncing around, and leaning to the left and right actually gave me a back ache!  I hurt!

And I must admit, it was also very cold, bitterly cold.  The day started out sunny and warmer, but by afternoon, when we were finished with our other activities  (meetings, voting, etc.) it had cooled down considerably.

The good news is that now I know what is involved in cutting the grass. I did enjoy zipping around on the tractor.   But I can say unequivocally that it is a job I will happily let Gerry do!