An Uncertain Season

The liturgical calendar says we are in Eastertide-do you feel that way?  I don't.  As much as I search for new life and resurrection in the everyday I am still beset by a low-grade, ever-present sense of uncertainty.  And perhaps therein lies the lesson-it's there, it will continue to be there for the foreseeable future, and I need to learn how to welcome it.

This is the first Easter in decades that I haven't come home from church and collapsed for a multi-hour nap.  My church held a "parking lot" service on Easter Sunday which was actually quite beautiful, all things considered. The congregation had to remain in their cars and communion was spiritual.  We sang a hymn, listened to a sermon and closed with a stellar recording of Handel's Hallelujah.  It was a gorgeous spring day and the birds added their chorus to ours.  It was an out-of-time and out-of-place experience with a steep learning curve, but ultimately a time of hope, filled with the Spirit.

As I was not worn out from Holy Week duties I had the energy to make a delicious Easter dinner, using my grandmother's china and the sterling from marriage #1.  Fresh salmon from our local market, newly picked asparagus from a farm nearby, and apple crisp from cold storage apples.  And a nice red wine.

So as we enter week six of the pandemic I am trying to be both productive and reflective. And I am ever-mindful of the sick and those out-of-work.  I'll close with a prayer which is comforting to me and which I believe-that Love's desire is for health and wholeness.

 Prayer for People Facing Great Uncertainty

God of the present moment,

God who in Jesus stills the storm

and soothes the frantic heart;

bring hope and courage to all

who wait or work in uncertainty.

Bring hope that you will make them the equal

of whatever lies ahead.

Bring them courage to endure what cannot be avoided,

for your will is health and wholeness;

you are God, and we need you.

Amen.

                                                                                          (from the New Zealand Prayer Book)

Straddling

There is a place in you that is not touched by coming and going, by up or down, by for or against, by totally right or totally wrong.

These words of Richard Rohr were a balm to my soul earlier this week.  After returning from our annual August visit to Maine I was out-of-sorts.  Happy to be back home in Maryland, yes, but also bereft at leaving a place I love very much. Instead of fighting it and telling myself to just move on, or succumbing to sadness, I decided to try holding both sets of feelings.

For that is really the way of life, right?  We see both sides, we're nice to our neighbor who supports Trump, we walk a pathway between trust and fear.  It has taken me a long time to realize that our world is not either/or, right/wrong, yes/no.

Simply put, I can still love Maine...the feel of the air, the late summer shadows foretelling fall, the deep concern for earth's health, the sense of being a step closer to heaven.  I can miss my dear friends and, still, the presence of Spirit as I walk into St. Saviour's Church and place my fingers on the organ keys.

All of this is possible while making our new life in Maryland.  It's a very good one, with meaningful work, new friends, a house that feels like home, and our dear family.  The ability to hold both of these deep emotions is a sort of freedom, a straddling if you like, keeping each foot on a separate side.  It's like saying Yes, I can have it both ways.

New Life

I suspect that many of us are feeling an undercurrent of fear and foreboding these days.  No matter your political persuasion, there is a lot to worry about.  For me it's a constant battle to be positive and hopeful.  My non-negotiable morning meditations have been a lifesaver in that regard.

And Bill and I are so fortunate to have both new and young life in our family.  I'd forgotten just how small and helpless a baby is as well as how insistent they can be when something is needed!

I love this photo of my son-in-law: his face is full of joy, contentment and pride.  Often I am deeply moved by the love he and Emily show each other and their 2 young sons.

Eight days after Ari's birth a bris was held.  This ancient ritual linked Ari to his ancestors from centuries past.  Beautiful prayers were said, including my favorite which asked that the world be a better place because of Ari. Isn't that something we should all wish for ourselves?  Many treasured keepsakes were part of the bris, including crystal candlesticks that belonged to my grandmother.

Here's Zev watching the mohel as she prepares to perform the circumcision.  He seemed a little uneasy that afternoon, but a trip to get an ice cream with Nana seemed to help.

When the weight of war, ugly words, poverty, pollution and politics weigh me down I think of my responsibility to future generations.  And I do what I can, as I soak up every bit of love and hope from these two little boys.

A Thin Place

You may have heard the term thin places- it's a Celtic idea which suggests that we can experience both heaven and earth at the same time.  Usually it's a reference to a specific, inspiring location, such as the island of Iona in Scotland or Croagh Patrick in western Ireland. In these places the barrier between earth and heaven seems to collapse.

I feel that I'm in a different sort of thin place this week, waiting for the birth of our new grandson on Friday. Time is moving slowly and I am ever so aware that our lives are about to be changed as new life enters the world.  Both earth and heaven, yes.

The Wedding China

Thanksgiving, dinner at daughter's
keeper now of the wedding china
received from far and near 40 years ago.
Such anticipation, such promise
service for 12, sterling and crystal as well
That dream, gone in a blaze of hurt and despair
New life, resurrected
My own, and generations to come.

A Look Back

As I think back on 2017 I am almost overwhelmed with the meaning of friendship and family.  Looking thru our holiday cards yesterday I was struck by the many relationships we have, ranging from childhood friends to new Maryland friends to many in-between. I am grateful for them all.

In a year when I often felt utter dismay at the state of our country and world, love sustained me. The love I received and witnessed from family, friends, strangers, pets, nature, the Spirit. And music.  I hope that I am able to pass that on, to show that life indeed is worth living.

It was a year of great travel adventures, meaningful music-making and taking the first steps to become a spiritual director. The year brought sobering news about Bill's health and the realization of what aging entails.

Throughout the ups and downs I have been blessed to be a part of new life, in dear little Zev.  To see our world anew, with no preconceptions, is a gift and a lesson.

My wish for the new year is that we be kind to each other.  Even when it means reaching across the aisle, the divide-let's treat each other as human beings, with love and kindness.

Blessings on your new year.

Visit with an Old Friend

In late August Bill and I traveled to Maine to visit friends and take a break from Maryland's punishing heat, timing the trip so that I could play a recital at St. Saviour's in Bar Harbor.  I confess to having wondered what in the world I'd been thinking as I packed for the trip AND spent hours and hours practicing.

The first morning there, after having limped north 750 miles in a car with flashing service warning lights, I walked into the church with a fair amount of anxiety. I imagine it was like arriving at a reunion where it had been awhile since you'd seen the people there. The organ at St. Saviour's is a colorful individual, to say the least, and I had two days to practice-would that be enough to get reacquainted?

Tears flooded my eyes as so many wonderful memories came flying at me. I went to say hello to the two small Tiffany windows near the organ which were my constant companions while practicing all those years.

And then it was time to play...but the bench was too low and too close to the keyboard...well, of course, there is a new organist here!  But all the same I felt betrayed, as if the organ had been disloyal. After readjusting the bench I pulled out some stops and began to remember just why I had a love affair with this instrument for years.  The keys, made of rosewood, feel so good.  The tracker action breathes life into each note. The beautiful 4-foot flutes wafting thru that ethereal space made me feel as if I were in heaven.

Within five minutes I knew I'd be ready for the recital and the next few days were just like sitting down with a good friend over a cup of coffee and talking non-stop.  After the recital I reluctantly said goodbye to this Visser-Rowland instrument, not realizing that only a few weeks later I'd be back again, this time to play for the memorial service of my dear friend Sarah. On that occasion the organ and I worked as one to give Sarah a loving farewell.

Yes, I miss this instrument and the musicality I discovered while playing it. You might even say I grieve it. But I have another organ to play now-it's blander and with a more muted palette-but I know it wants to sing.  We are slowly getting to know each other.

Herb Garden Supper

One of our biggest projects here in our new place has been to establish gardens.  Perhaps decades ago someone had a vegetable garden here, but we couldn't find any evidence of it.  Rather than try to tame the local heavy clay soil we opted for raised beds.  Back in January we ordered the wood and Bill began building them.  We had some rich garden loam delivered and a choir member brought over a load of horse manure.  The garden was in business!

As you might expect, gardening is a bit different here than in Maine and it's been a summer of trial and error.  Some crops, such as garlic and beans, were a wipe-out, while others went on a rampage, like the squash, of course.

My first project was an herb garden and I'm sorry to say I didn't keep up with it.  But yesterday, in the midst of the weeds and bolted plants I managed to collect enough for one of my favorite summer dishes, Pasta with Fresh Herbs. This is adapted from the Moosewood Collective's Simple Suppers. It makes just the right amount for 2 servings but can easily be doubled or quadrupled-whatever you need.

Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and add about 1/3 pound of pasta and cook until al dente.  (I like to use penne, but use whatever you have on hand.)

Mince a large clove of garlic and 1/2 cup of 3 or 4 fresh herbs (basil, parsley, chives, oregano, thyme, mint or others).  Try to use approximately the same amount of each herb.

Warm a generous tablespoon of olive oil in a small skillet on the stove and add the garlic until it is golden, not brown, about 1 minute.  Add the herbs and cook for 30 seconds, stirring constantly.  Add 2-3 tablespoons of the pasta water and remove from heat.

Drain pasta when done and place in a serving bowl, adding the herb and oil mixture and salt and pepper to taste.  Toss in some grated parmesan and serve right away-enjoy!

We braved the heat and sat out on the front porch.  Add some red wine and a green salad and you have a lovely summer meal.

A New Life

What makes the pull of family so strong for some of us? Ten months ago, in September 2015, we uprooted ourselves from a beautiful life in Maine to move to the Eastern Shore of Maryland.  And all because of this darling little boy, along with his parents.

When Emily, our daughter, was growing up, we lived in Maine and her grandparents were in Texas.  A visit with them was a BIG DEAL-lots of planning, a long plane flight and the need to stay for a certain period of time to make the trip worthwhile.  Expectations on both sides were huge and the flurry of cooking and cleaning exhausting.  We made it work-had to- and Emily was close to her grandparents.  We all had some wonderful times together and I cherish those memories.

But that's not what I wanted, as a grandmother. I wanted to be day-trip close enough. Forget the missed birthday parties and the need for plane reservations months in advance. Drop the expectations of occasional visits.  I wanted to be a part of Zev's life on a regular basis and now it's a fact.

We are close enough that just about every week Zev gets home baked blueberry muffins.  He expects them (an expectation I can handle!) and that simple thing makes me pinch myself, to see if I will wake up from this good dream. "Nana's house" is a place he loves and he doesn't just visit once or twice a year. We have our favorite books and songs and he always gets a 'cello lesson from Bill.

Yes, this post is an ode to my grandson, but not at the expense of daughter and son-in-law.  Being a part of their lives, too, is a great gift.

It has been hard to get this blog started and please don't worry, it won't be just about grandparenting. I just thought I'd say why we have started life anew.  If you'd like to know more, check out Lost in Maine.