Feeling pensive

Image by Freepik.com

It rained in Texas today! Not the downpours that residents feel in the Northwest or the storms that sometimes deluge the eastern coast, but it was wet, and in Texas we are grateful. But it was also dark and dreary, the kind of day that can encourage deep thoughts.

My church recently was rocked by the tragic deaths of a prominent member, active in church affairs and the city of Fort Worth, known and admired by many, and his two children. They were killed in a horrendous accident on Thanksgiving Eve. The mother, badly injured, survived. The funeral was today, and the church expected an overflow crowd. I zoomed from home. I did not know this family—I know the older generation by sight and reputation, had never heard of the branch of the family involved in the accident. But I went because I know they are good people—it makes you think of the now-old book, When Bad Things Happen to Good People, by Harold Kushner. I went because even without knowing them I felt surrounded by grief, by the impact of this tragedy on our community. As a now-retired minister once said to me when I asked about a tsunami, “Shit happens.” Faith helps us sort out that shit, and that’s part of why I went today—call it curiosity. And finally, I went because at my age I need reassurance about life and death. Like many people, I am still trying to sort out my belief, even as I feel the time for doing that is shortening. Was it John Donne who wrote, “But at my back I always hear/Time’s winged chariot hurrying near”? At the polar opposite of that thought is the fact that two children died in this accident, and our minister acknowledged that there is something particularly heartbreaking when we lose children with so much of their life ahead of them.

The service brought tears, no doubt about it. I grieved for the brother who gave the eulogy and had an obviously difficult time getting through it, though he managed occasional bits of humor. And I grieved for the visiting minister, the father’s college roommate, who continually wiped his eyes as our minister spoke words of comfort. I grieved for our minister, who had been close friends with this family and had loving stories to tell about all three. I grieved for the surviving widow/mother, who sat in the front row, flanked by the two grandmothers and holding hands with them.

The message of hope that our minister delivered was that God is always with us, in good times and in tragedy—perhaps you must be of my Protestant faith to accept that. But what I came away with today is that we must live with vitality, with a positive attitude. Grief doesn’t go away. It is always there, waiting to overwhelm, to trip us up. I think the same is true of doubt. But it is up to us to live past it and through it. Both the brother who gave the eulogy and the minister talked about grief being with us every day, if we let it in. It’s up to us to shut that gate.

What I’m trying to talk about in these meandering thoughts is the importance of a positive attitude. And that’s what was reinforced for me today in the memorial service. I know it will be a long time before that extended family can move through and beyond grief, but it is up to us to surround them with love and encourage them as they move forward. And it is up to us to live beyond and through our doubts and temporary problems. I am a big believer in the power of positive thinking. Who wrote that book? Norman Vincent Peale, of course.

I had other deep thoughts today, probably about rain or maybe about list-making, but somehow now, after a glass of wine and an offbeat but good dinner—smoked salmon, cream cheese, and some frozen spanakopita—they don’t seem so dark to me. I have been making lists for a couple of weeks—I am not one to let Christmas sneak up on me, and this year I will have my whole family around me. So you can tell lists are needed—food, gifts, things to do. Perhaps attending today’s service, which had sort of loomed over me much of the week, reaffirmed my faith and freed me to move on to holiday planning. I hope it will help me too to remember the true nature of the holiday I celebrate as a Christian and not get lost in the lists and the gifts and the food.

How does the holiday season affect you? Have you made lists? Have you looked at your darkest thoughts? It’s a tough time of the year, despite it being the season of hope and joy.

The times, they are a-changing

tuna casserole;
recipe available on request;
wine makes the difference.

Periodically I am guilted into defending my reliance on the internet and, specifically Facebook, for everything from contemporary news to ongoing friendship. Today, the internet provided me with random amusement. It’s Saturday, I was cooking, and I couldn’t quite apply myself to writing. So I surfed the msn.com news clips and came across a couple that both bemused me and aroused some indignation.

It's fashionable these days to decry the food of the fifties, mocking the disgusting things nobody eats today—or do they? This list was titled, “Disgusting things that nobody but Boomers eat.” I’m not even a Boomer—just a tad too old. But the list included some of my favorite things: meatloaf (I made one the other day, and Jordan said it was the best she’d ever had and please keep it in the menu rotation; and as anyone with an ounce of sense knows, there are few things better than a meatloaf sandwich with mayo); mayonnaise salads (I assume they meant tuna salad, egg salad, ham salad, chicken salad—all things I could eat three times a day for days and never tired of them—I have a DIL though who won’t touch them. She remembers church suppers on the ground and fear of food poisoning. Each to their own.);

Chain restaurants (okay, I agree with some exceptions); paper napkins (I read on another list millennials don’t use them—they use a towel or their shirt—slovenly. When I was a kid, we had linen napkins. Paper are a great boon, but everyone needs a napkin in their lap if they’re civilized); Velveeta (okay, agreed, but it makes great queso and there are some casseroles that really need it. I did find that Trader Joe’s carries club cheese which would be a better choice for such dishes); ketchup (I don’t know—where would the world be without ketchup on fries or hamburgers? I remember Jacob demanding it for his chicken fingers—so glad we outgrew that phase); tuna casserole (I can make the best tuna casserole ever, and it’s one of my favorites. Why, a friend even came from Dallas just to eat it—are you listening, Gary?); curly parsley (do we really care if it’s curly or flat leaf?); Jell-O salads (well, yeah if you put everything but the kitchen sink in them, but there were a couple I liked, jellied gazpacho for instance, or jellied consommé with lemon, or cherry/port wine jelly with cherries. Let’s not throw out the baby with the bath water.) Things I agreed are better done away with: most Jell-O salads, margarine, and artificial sweeteners.

Then I came across another list of things that are disappearing because millennials scorn them: paper napkins (they really are in disrepute), business suits (makes sense—women’s fashions change all the time, but men seem stuck in the same outfits.); board games (yay for that—I’ve played Monopoly a hundred times too many); lottery tickets (okay—I never ever won, and I remember someone who said you might as well drive down the highway throwing dollar bills out the window); stilettos (amen!); fabric softeners ( we must be going back to stiff sheets and rough towels);

Razors (modest face hair is okay, but some men really overdo it—hate those long, frizzy beards which must trap so much food—yuck!); print books (oh, that cuts me to the quick, but then I read mostly digital and I know audiobooks are popular—I can’t concentrate on them); fast food, processed food (yay!); landlines (got rid of mine several years ago because all I got was solicitation calls); beef (really? All things in moderation, please); cereal—the sugary, fruity kind okay, but there are still a few good ones like corn flakes which was on another boomer bad food list); wine with corks (no problem, as long as there is wine); cruises, theme parks, golf courses (mixed feeling about this—never liked any of them, but I am the grandmother of a pretty dedicated and talented golfer).

I’m sure there are items on these lists that you adore and others you dislike that didn’t make the list. We each have our own “lists,” and these are but starting points. But these small items and their disappearance makes a huge change in our daily lives. And if that’s true, think how the big things change our lives—gun control, abortion, immigration, all the hot-button issues of today’s world. It’s sort of mind-boggling.

A December day in Texas

‘Twas  a dark and stormy night—oops, no. I got carried away. It was a cold morning, slightly damp, and most discouraging. Another good day to stay in. Makes me think how fortunate I am to have that choice to make and to have enough “busyness” at home to keep me happy.

Though I confess I’m not that busy. A neighbor posted a picture of herself making a face on Facebook—not a happy face—and wrote that was what she thought of folks who have their Christmas shopping done, presents wrapped. Shhh! Don’t tell her, but I am one of those. There are still a couple of presents that have me biting my nails to see if they’ll arrive in time—one for a gathering tomorrow night, and I’m losing hope on that one even though the tracking says between the 16^th and 20^th. Another gift I thought perfect for old and dear friends in Omaha has apparently disappeared into a black hole. It may brighten their days in the dark of February.

Jordan and I are compulsive list makers—it’s a gene that Megan happily confesses she missed. But we have lists of groceries to be bought tomorrow, groceries at the end of the week, who’s cooking what when we all get together, what we’re having for dinner each night that all seventeen of us will be under one roof—yikes! Melanie even did a spread sheet, and to my alarm it read, “Breakfast on your own.” I asked Jordan to put cottage cheese on the shopping list.

Meanwhile, today I did odds and ends—some author-like chores, including looking for a picture I’ve had trouble locating and getting what head start I could on my neighborhood newsletter—but mostly Christmas. I’ve wrapped the last three presents (excluding those not yet arrived), written a few Christmas cards, figured out what to do about the last person on my list. My wrapped Christmas presents are pitiful—if you’ve seen that ad where a youngster about five holds forth in a hardware store and in one climactic moment hands a customer a clumsily wrapped gift with paper going every which way, you know what my packages look like. I strive for tight, neat corners, but somehow, I never get there. My daughters’ packages are always neat and square with fantastic bows, while I confine myself to red yarn. And, really, I like gift bags the best.

A lovely letter from an elementary school friend—we also went to church together for years—cheered me today. She and I share a love of Lake Michigan, and we’ve reunited on Facebook—one of the great pleasures of social media—but we’ve never directly communicated before. Now we share hip troubles—she is scheduled for January surgery—and I have been encouraging her about the benefits, not negative aspects, of a walker. She wrote of her appreciation, and I was grateful. It’s the season for spontaneous and unexpected communication, whatever we can do to bring a little joy into someone else’s life—not just those who need joy, but those who don’t expect to hear from us. The unexpected always brings special pleasure.

Tonight I ate the last of the coffee beef stew—even better tonight. The recipe called for three bay leaves, and by golly, I got all three in my modest portion tonight. And then Scottish shortbread from the gift basket the neighborhood association brought me in appreciation for my work on the newsletter. It’s also a bountiful season.

As we move into Christmas week, I am continually struck by how timely the theme of the message from our church is: “Be not afraid.” The words of the Angel to Mary, and the words to Joseph as he considered marriage to a young woman already pregnant. Those word have great meaning in our day and age, when fear is all around us, and we must fight to prevent it from shaping our lives. Be not afraid—the Lord is with us.