Tuesday is moving day

Today I walked through my house recalling all the indecision I had over the past two years. Now that the decision has been made, and my house is getting closer to being completed, I can't imagine not making anything but this decision.

Carpet was installed last weekend and I am having the cable and newspaper changed to the new address so I guess that means it's really going to happen.

My home will reflect my love of earth and her creatures. There will be a water fountain just inside the front door. My daughter Elyse is calling the living room, the "Forest Room". We are going to use her pictures from trips she has taken other summers to decorate that room.

One of my favorite pictures is of ancient Cedar trees taken in Idaho. I remember walking along the pathway observing the absolute stillness and majesty of the Cedar forest. My friend, Gretchen, whom we visited in Idaho, also took us to see a Cedar tree that was around before the birth of Christ. I put my hand on the wood of its trunk and was in awe over its endurable spirit.

For the first time in my life, my home will truly reflect who I am and what is important to me. I wanted it to be a sanctuary. The whole experience for me has been one of insight and deep reflection. That is due to many things but mostly because of Tara, the special person who took my house and me on a journey. With gentle guiding hands, she transformed what was plain into something rich with color, mood and song.

Every house should be so fortunate.

it's 3:00 a.m. and I can't sleep

water calls my name
nudges my spirit
swirls me about
in imaginary play

I am no longer
separate
but in union
with millions
of drops
of water

air in my lungs
is not needed
as I submerge
with the motion of water
I dance
I twirl
I thrill
to be a part
of an ancient one

the reward 

today I watered my tomato plants...

I really enjoy watering my tomato plants. I bought them from the local hardware store. They appeared to be on their last legs. But I planted them anyway and watched them grow into hearty plants. I rejoiced when I began to see blossoms appear and, of course, hope these blossoms will turn to red fruit.

I enjoy standing with the hose pointed at what I imagine are thirsty roots. I think in my head how thankful they must be to have the shower of cool water dripping on their leaves, soaking into the ground, sinking beneath the soil. I also imagine the tomatoes that will eventually hang on the branches and how I will come to the plants anticipating my reward for all this care.

I remember other tomato plants in past years which always seem to thrive in this very spot in my garden. The soil has rested a bit for the last two years. When my mother died I had no desire to plant things. But when I saw those straggly plants....buy one get one free, I couldn't resist. Now....everyday I water, watch and wait for tomatoes and the return of things that celebrate the normal.

a soul's longing to know 

what does it take....

what does it take to
access

Y. . . .o. . . . u

enter the doors of a
place of worship

sing from a book
of religious songs

read from the Bible

pray with words
written by others

adhere to
doctrine and creeds


None of these things are required

You are only a breath away. . . .

ready, willing, anticipating

the next human soul

l o n g i n g

to know what makes

Y. . . 0. . . .u

t
i
c
k

LOMO

This week I am coordinating a day camp for 35 kids. Our staff of counselors are from the Lutheran Outdoor Ministries of Ohio. We have 3 young women and 2 young men. One of the girls is from New Zealand. As in any gathering of humans, regardless of age, there have been the predictable conflicts with some campers threathening not to return. All of these threats have yet to materialize, but tomorrow may prove otherwise.

So far as church coordinator I have had to call Animal Control to report a poor hapless possum found sleeping under a bush near our play area. If this possum is smart, he'll find another place to rest during the day. I also questioned a man parked under a tree in our parking lot eating his lunch. He had no affliatiton with our church and was hestitant to provide his name although I introduced myself. One has to be so careful these days.

The campers were asked today what their favorite part of camp was so far and two boys said that meeting the other was their favorite. This resulted partly because on the first day one of the boys did not want to eat his lunch sitting in the grass. He was afraid of bugs crawling on him or his food. He had a bit of a food strike but with the encouragement of his friend, finally finished eating.

The activities for the day, which runs from 10:00 until 3:00, include lots of really fun singing of "camp" songs, doing neat crafts and playing large group cooperative games and study and practice of prayer. Snacks and lunch are included. We are now eating inside because of the 90 degree summer heat.

Tonight we had a pool party for staff and volunteers. It was relaxing and fun.

My daughter and I are thinking of going to one of the Lutheran camps in Ohio for a week. Both of us have worked at this camp. I worked there for 10 years during my summers. My children were practically raised there. Each of the three have had different reactions to returning.

I am happy to be able to do this. Next week I will be moving into 123 Cross St. What a busy, productive summer this has been.

today I feel.....

great, stupendous, relieved
I am seeing progress
I am putting things in
perspective
I know there is an
end in sight

healing hands 

mary ann

friday I had a massage
mary ann's gift
of healing touch
reached into
my soul
turned a key
opened a door
and let the pain out

sometimes I drift
sometimes I soar
sometimes I cry

I am not afraid
to "go there"
anymore
by facing my
imperfections
my dangerous zones

I can reclaim all
the bounty that
waits just a
quantum leap

a w a y

words that come to mind....

overwhelmed

smoothered

burdened

freaking out

small

out-of-control

decision making overload

incapable

wishing for
invisibility

burdened with
accumulation

misunderstood

wanting to escape
and hide in a cave

what did you say....
throw it away...
I never meant for you
to be saddled with
the sorrow of stuff

thanks, m....
I needed to hear that

fact or fiction....

remember as a child
mixing water and mud
stirring round and round
patting them flat
letting them dry
offering them to friends
with a smile

in Haiti
there is no pretending
mud pies are on
the menu

can this be true?

exclusion

pictures of the holiday
everyone smiling
passing them around
chatting about the fun

no one notices
the pretending going on
no one seems to care
that the invitation
was never extended

don't take it
personally
don't let them know
or see the pain

they are friends
your friends,
your very own
friendship
really
is
excluding
no one
don't they
say?

the heaven's own fireworks 

today I cleaned

July 4th, 2005 is my day to clean, sort, recycle and bag for charity. I am planning to meet friends later at their lake house for fireworks and the more traditional holiday activities. Of course, not far from anyone's mind are those who are overseas. Regardless of one's political views, the men and women who aren't with family today are remembered and revered. We will enjoy the usual fireworks, and as one letter to the editor put it, these lights in the sky aren't supposed to kill anyone.
I pray for all humankind everywhere on this great planet of ours that their day will pass peacefully. Wouldn't that be something to weep with joy over?

not so different 

something in common

a gaunt face

vacant eyes

staring without
seeing

we have something
in common

we both require
food

sometimes I feel like a motherless child

It's almost the anniversary of my mother's death, July 12, 2003.

Even when I don't think I'm thinking about it.....it creeps up on me. Sometimes it seems it happened long ago and other times the grief feels like it was yesterday.

I am getting ready to sell my mother's home. I moved in when my sister and I cared for her when she became ill with lung cancer. I realized today that once I move out, it will become more final. There will be memories and some of mom's furniture in my own home but the last real tangible link will be gone. It won't be easy but very necessary. My predominant memories here are of mother's illness. I want to remember the good times. I found her driver's license this afternoon. She had it renewed in 2002. I thought to myself...it's a good thing we don't know the future.

Very soon I will be back in 123 Cross St. A wonderful person is remodeling it. She shares my joy and excitement. She is an answer to prayer. I know mother would be very pleased.

Butterflies, receipe boxes, my mother's touch are all a part of the memories I will be taking with me.

I wonder

I wonder if EARTH
feels the same
as I do

me.....on a little
piece of HER

with all my stuff

suffocated,
burdened
with accumlation

then multiply that by
b i l l i o n s

most of it eventually
languishing deep within
HER
scarring,
marring
for hundreds of years

oh.......what have we
done
and
what will we do
to change

before I go 

a special visit

A friend's blog reminds me of something that happened to my eldest daughter after the death of my mother:

My mother died in Hospice of Dayton, a wonderful organization that helps family members to witness, in a loving and caring atmosphere, the death of a loved one. One or two hours before my mother passed away, ducks came to her window and looked in at her. There was a lovely pond and garden outside her room. They ignored me although I was sitting right by the window. At the time, I thought nothing of it, but later felt its significance.

My sister and I took turns sitting with my mother for a week while she was at hospice. I had watched her every move and studied her face. I noticed mom was changing and called the nurse in to confirm my fears. The nurse thought she had about a half a day more so I immediately called my sister and other family members including my daughter, Elyse. Susan was close by and hurried over. Less than a half an hour later my mother passed away.

Despite Elyse's attempts to get to her grandma's room on time, she was thwarted by confusion and panic as she rushed to find the room she had been to many times. As she hurried through the halls of hospice, she became aware of the most beautiful music she recalled ever hearing. At the moment she was hearing the music, she was aware of herself becoming smaller and smaller as if she was watching herself while leaving earth. She arrived at my mother's room knowing she was gone.

Elyse was very upset that she hadn't had the opportunity to say good-bye and went outside to walk around the pond. While outside her eye caught the sight of a small butterfly which began fluttering about her face, landing gently on her cheek and arm. It "played" with her for a few moments before flying away.

Later that evening when we were remembering the day together, she told me about the experiences she had in the hallway at hospice and with the butterfly. I sat for a moment before I told her. Before my mother died we had joked about her coming back as a butterfly, her favorite insect, to let us know she was alright. It would have been like my mother to "visit" Elyse to reassure her and apparently she did.