Our choir is working on some great music for a Gospel Arts Festival. We are singing some old time "gospel" songs that most of us grew up singing - i.e - an arrangement of I'll Fly Away that includes When the Roll is Called Up Yonder.
I've loved it.
Sometimes I get called down a bit because sometimes I sing too loud. I remember that one of my brothers said to my mother once -"mom, if you didn't sing so loud no one could hear you" and she has always taken that teasing in stride. She tells us that once she had a beautiful voice and I know that she was the president of the Glee Club on High School. She also has always said that she stopped being able to sing when daddy was in the Pacific and "if you don't use it, you lose it" - or so she said.
But I digress.
One of the songs we are singing features our soprano choral scholar, Brianna. The choir is her back up group as she belts out '' I didn't know it was true, until it happened to me". The song references that once we turn out lives over to God, there is a change.
Anyway
Just a few days after Mother's Day in 1971 I paid a visit to a local physician - who confirmed what I suspected.
I was pregnant.
I remember I said "Is it fun to have a baby?"
I know - weird question.
But I've always remembered his reply.
"It's exciting."
Who knew? Not me.
I didn't know that it's true - until it happened to me.
With the birth of each of my children I became more convinced that yes, it was exciting and yes, it was fun and ye,s it was painful.
And then Renee gave me a list of things to purchase from the Johnson & Johnson company store - baby powder, baby shampoo, baby wipes -- a name for your first grandchild to call you.
I had heard - it's great to be a grandmother.
But guess what - I know it's true - because it happened to me.
7 times - but who's counting?
Friday, May 9, 2014
Saturday, May 3, 2014
And they're off...
I was in the third grade and I had a bad case of strep throat.
Funny that I remember that.
Actually more important than my grade or my throat is that it's the day that my daddy and I began a tradition.
We watched the Kentucky Derby.
From that day to this - every year on the first Saturday in May - that tradition has continued.
Oh - we didn't always watch it together.
We just both watched it...for seventeen years I watched in in another city; another state. But in 1983 we started watching it together again and we continued that until his death in 2009.
One year I even lived in Louisville. Renee remembers going to a parade that week and I remember I thought it was so interesting that there were other races going on that day. Who knew? Everything in Louisville, Kentucky during that week that ends with the first Saturday in May is about those horses.
Betting on the horses had nothing to do with it.
"It's the hats", my mother would say - although she loved the shiny sleek horses.
"No it's the color", daddy would say. He loved the commentary.
And for me, it was "the tradition".
And now it is another first Saturday in May. I've gotten used to watching without daddy here.
Sort of.
This week my sister, Cindy, asked if the pain of losing her precious granddaughter would ever go away. I loved my sister in law, Tammie's response, "no, but the big crack will seal some".
For me - some of the pain of losing our daddy - is lessened a little anyway when I do things that we used to do together.
Which is why this afternoon between 5:30 and 6:15 or so -- I'll be watching and listening to hear...
"And they're off . . .".
Funny that I remember that.
Actually more important than my grade or my throat is that it's the day that my daddy and I began a tradition.
We watched the Kentucky Derby.
From that day to this - every year on the first Saturday in May - that tradition has continued.
Oh - we didn't always watch it together.
We just both watched it...for seventeen years I watched in in another city; another state. But in 1983 we started watching it together again and we continued that until his death in 2009.
One year I even lived in Louisville. Renee remembers going to a parade that week and I remember I thought it was so interesting that there were other races going on that day. Who knew? Everything in Louisville, Kentucky during that week that ends with the first Saturday in May is about those horses.
Betting on the horses had nothing to do with it.
"It's the hats", my mother would say - although she loved the shiny sleek horses.
"No it's the color", daddy would say. He loved the commentary.
And for me, it was "the tradition".
And now it is another first Saturday in May. I've gotten used to watching without daddy here.
Sort of.
This week my sister, Cindy, asked if the pain of losing her precious granddaughter would ever go away. I loved my sister in law, Tammie's response, "no, but the big crack will seal some".
For me - some of the pain of losing our daddy - is lessened a little anyway when I do things that we used to do together.
Which is why this afternoon between 5:30 and 6:15 or so -- I'll be watching and listening to hear...
"And they're off . . .".
Sunday, April 27, 2014
"Safely Thro Another Week"
I can almost hear his voice. His name was Lloyd Minnich and he led the singing at Glendale Community Church when I was a little girl.
"Safely thro' another week, God has bro’t us on our way;
Let us now a blessing seek, Waiting in His courts today:
Day of all the week the best, Soon will come eternal rest;
Day of all the week the best, Soon will come eternal rest." (John Newton Safely Thro' Another Week; verse one)
This is the day my mother was due to arrive at JIA for a month long visit. I had it all planned - today I was going to catch my breath from the hectic weeks that have preceded this weekend which included the Caregiver Expo at UNF - the whole reason I've had a part time/temporary job at Community Hospice - and get ready for her arrival.
You know however, that last Monday that all changed when our precious little Blakelie Foster Beck, daughter of my niece, Leslie, died.
That last sentence will stick in my throat for a long time.
However. . .
The outpouring support that our family received has been incredible. Words of comfort and sympathy; encouragement and understanding and acts of love have blessed us beyond words.
This was a very busy week for me - all the final preparations for the Caregiver Expo. My friends stepped in to help - grocery shopping for me personally as my mother was coming home four days ahead of schedule; picking up door prizes for the event; helping with a last minute project at Community Hospice. Not to mention - the Communications and Marketing staff at Hospice and the Bereavement Support team were wonderful.
My heart was heavy as we made our way to a visitation in Orlando. Some of that was lifted for a while as I saw so many friends and family members. I knew I couldn't go to Augusta for the interment. I didn't think my mother could either.
However, my daughter, Becca had another thought. She would take her grandma.
I cannot begin to tell you how much easier that made it for me to be at the Caregiver Expo yesterday. All day long as I was so involved - every now and then there would be a swell of sorrow that would sweep over me. And I would just walk away from the crowd and take a moment to be sad and then be glad - for the blessings that have been poured out on us this past week.
When I remembered that song from my childhood, I googled it and found all four verses. The last verse says:
"May Thy gospel’s joyful sound Conquer sinners, comfort saints;
May the fruits of grace abound, Bring relief to all complaints;"
That is what is happening. We are being comforted. God's grace is abounding.
Does it still hurt? Rich Suhey has been gone for 16 years; my daddy has been gone for more than four -- they still hurt.
So, yes.
And yet there is a peace that passes all understanding, something my parents taught us - at the same time that they were taking us to church every Sunday - that same church where we sang
"Safely thro' another week, God has bro’t us on our way;
Let us now a blessing seek, Waiting in His courts today:
Day of all the week the best, Soon will come eternal rest;
Day of all the week the best, Soon will come eternal rest." (John Newton Safely Thro' Another Week; verse one)
This is the day my mother was due to arrive at JIA for a month long visit. I had it all planned - today I was going to catch my breath from the hectic weeks that have preceded this weekend which included the Caregiver Expo at UNF - the whole reason I've had a part time/temporary job at Community Hospice - and get ready for her arrival.
You know however, that last Monday that all changed when our precious little Blakelie Foster Beck, daughter of my niece, Leslie, died.
That last sentence will stick in my throat for a long time.
However. . .
The outpouring support that our family received has been incredible. Words of comfort and sympathy; encouragement and understanding and acts of love have blessed us beyond words.
This was a very busy week for me - all the final preparations for the Caregiver Expo. My friends stepped in to help - grocery shopping for me personally as my mother was coming home four days ahead of schedule; picking up door prizes for the event; helping with a last minute project at Community Hospice. Not to mention - the Communications and Marketing staff at Hospice and the Bereavement Support team were wonderful.
My heart was heavy as we made our way to a visitation in Orlando. Some of that was lifted for a while as I saw so many friends and family members. I knew I couldn't go to Augusta for the interment. I didn't think my mother could either.
However, my daughter, Becca had another thought. She would take her grandma.
I cannot begin to tell you how much easier that made it for me to be at the Caregiver Expo yesterday. All day long as I was so involved - every now and then there would be a swell of sorrow that would sweep over me. And I would just walk away from the crowd and take a moment to be sad and then be glad - for the blessings that have been poured out on us this past week.
When I remembered that song from my childhood, I googled it and found all four verses. The last verse says:
"May Thy gospel’s joyful sound Conquer sinners, comfort saints;
May the fruits of grace abound, Bring relief to all complaints;"
That is what is happening. We are being comforted. God's grace is abounding.
Does it still hurt? Rich Suhey has been gone for 16 years; my daddy has been gone for more than four -- they still hurt.
So, yes.
And yet there is a peace that passes all understanding, something my parents taught us - at the same time that they were taking us to church every Sunday - that same church where we sang
"Safely thro' another week, God has bro’t us on our way...".
.Wednesday, April 23, 2014
When worlds collide
I had it all planned...
Since early December, I've been working on the Caregiver Expo that Community Hospice and the Caregivers Coalition of Northeast Florida will present on Saturday, April 26.
In late March, I received a writing assignment for Beson4 publications. I was to profile nine people who have had a strong association with the First Coast American Heart Association and write the introduction. As the editor wrote, "this is a big 'assignment'".
That's okay I thought. I can do it. I just have to plan my time.
Oh and I forgot. My mother was coming for a visit on April 27.
That was great. My writing assignment would be done; the Caregiver Expo would be over.
I would have Sunday, April 27 to finish getting ready for my mother's arrival and be ready to meet her plane - relaxed and excited to have her here for the month of May.
And then on Monday, April 21 - something unimaginable happened.
I read these words on Facebook - "Pray for Blakelie - having emergency surgery to remove her spleen". Blakelie, the adorable 4 year old child of my very special niece, Leslie.
And then a text from my sister, Cindy - "she is with Jesus".
Suddenly all the plans I had made were thrown to the wind. I wanted to get in my car and drive to Orlando.
And yet the responsibilities were still looming.
Writing, planning, preparing for my mother's arrival - four days ahead of schedule
I felt like my worlds were colliding
Wait - my worlds didn't collide. They combined.
How? Through family and friends who have responded - with words of comfort, acts of love, hugs of encouragement.
The writing assignment is complete; the Caregiver Expo will happen, my mother is here.
All is right in my world? Nah
But I do have assurance that whether worlds collide or combine - it will ALL get done.
And although I'm not sure any one in our family or the circle of friends who are being there for us really believes this - at some point -like our daddy would say if he were here "everything's gonna be alright".
I'd just like to know when.
Since early December, I've been working on the Caregiver Expo that Community Hospice and the Caregivers Coalition of Northeast Florida will present on Saturday, April 26.
In late March, I received a writing assignment for Beson4 publications. I was to profile nine people who have had a strong association with the First Coast American Heart Association and write the introduction. As the editor wrote, "this is a big 'assignment'".
That's okay I thought. I can do it. I just have to plan my time.
Oh and I forgot. My mother was coming for a visit on April 27.
That was great. My writing assignment would be done; the Caregiver Expo would be over.
I would have Sunday, April 27 to finish getting ready for my mother's arrival and be ready to meet her plane - relaxed and excited to have her here for the month of May.
And then on Monday, April 21 - something unimaginable happened.
I read these words on Facebook - "Pray for Blakelie - having emergency surgery to remove her spleen". Blakelie, the adorable 4 year old child of my very special niece, Leslie.
And then a text from my sister, Cindy - "she is with Jesus".
Suddenly all the plans I had made were thrown to the wind. I wanted to get in my car and drive to Orlando.
And yet the responsibilities were still looming.
Writing, planning, preparing for my mother's arrival - four days ahead of schedule
I felt like my worlds were colliding
Wait - my worlds didn't collide. They combined.
How? Through family and friends who have responded - with words of comfort, acts of love, hugs of encouragement.
The writing assignment is complete; the Caregiver Expo will happen, my mother is here.
All is right in my world? Nah
But I do have assurance that whether worlds collide or combine - it will ALL get done.
And although I'm not sure any one in our family or the circle of friends who are being there for us really believes this - at some point -like our daddy would say if he were here "everything's gonna be alright".
I'd just like to know when.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
It's just not fair
How many times have I heard it? It's not fair.
I don't remember hearing this but I have been told that when I went off with one of my friends and didn't take my little sister, Cindy, she would say - It's not fair.
When Becca was chosen to go to the football game with granddaddy when she was a little girl, I heard it from her siblings - it's just not fair,
And when I got that call from a physician in Sanford, Florida telling me that my husband of eight months, the man who loved me with abandon, had not survived a heart attack, there's no doubt in my mind but that I thought..."not fair".
This was not my first experience with the fact that life is not always fair. Nor was it my last. Because in reality - life is not fair.
When Rich died, people asked me if I were angry and I said no, I was just disappointed.
Then one day I realized that disappointment is a form of anger and to be perfectly honest sometimes I am still a little bit angry - all these years down the pike.
And then I remember what one of my daughters said - "you have a great opportunity, mom. Look at all the things you get to do with your life".
It took me a while to realize that to be true, but now I do.
I "get" to enjoy my grown children, those three bundles of joy and the spice that they have brought into our family (my nickname for my children and their spouses); not to mention the seven adorable people who call me grandma.
I get to spend time with a plethora of friends - from those who have been a part of my life for my whole life to those I met as late as yesterday (no matter when you are reading this, I probably just met someone who I'm having coffee with soon).
I didn't "get" to continue in the process of ordination, but I do "get" to serve at the rail, take communion to those who can't get to church and help with events that are aimed at encouraging and enriching the lives of others.
And I get to write...a blog like this one.
With this entry, I am welcoming some other readers.
Several weeks ago I met Trudy Pascucci who is the publisher of Shades of Pink magazine. My friend, Virginia Pillsbury and I have met with Trudy several times and we are delighted that we are going to be a part of the magazine which reaches many in the Northeast Florida area and has the potential to reach beyond our borders. This and other blogs (including one Virginia will write about the joy of being the daughter of a woman who has dementia - I said that right - she considers it a joy) will be showing up on the Shades of Pink magazine website and we welcome others who want to post so watch for more information on that.
You might say I've found another way to act out that oft used axiom - "when life hands you lemons - you make lemonade".
I don't remember hearing this but I have been told that when I went off with one of my friends and didn't take my little sister, Cindy, she would say - It's not fair.
When Becca was chosen to go to the football game with granddaddy when she was a little girl, I heard it from her siblings - it's just not fair,
And when I got that call from a physician in Sanford, Florida telling me that my husband of eight months, the man who loved me with abandon, had not survived a heart attack, there's no doubt in my mind but that I thought..."not fair".
This was not my first experience with the fact that life is not always fair. Nor was it my last. Because in reality - life is not fair.
When Rich died, people asked me if I were angry and I said no, I was just disappointed.
Then one day I realized that disappointment is a form of anger and to be perfectly honest sometimes I am still a little bit angry - all these years down the pike.
And then I remember what one of my daughters said - "you have a great opportunity, mom. Look at all the things you get to do with your life".
It took me a while to realize that to be true, but now I do.
I "get" to enjoy my grown children, those three bundles of joy and the spice that they have brought into our family (my nickname for my children and their spouses); not to mention the seven adorable people who call me grandma.
I get to spend time with a plethora of friends - from those who have been a part of my life for my whole life to those I met as late as yesterday (no matter when you are reading this, I probably just met someone who I'm having coffee with soon).
I didn't "get" to continue in the process of ordination, but I do "get" to serve at the rail, take communion to those who can't get to church and help with events that are aimed at encouraging and enriching the lives of others.
And I get to write...a blog like this one.
With this entry, I am welcoming some other readers.
Several weeks ago I met Trudy Pascucci who is the publisher of Shades of Pink magazine. My friend, Virginia Pillsbury and I have met with Trudy several times and we are delighted that we are going to be a part of the magazine which reaches many in the Northeast Florida area and has the potential to reach beyond our borders. This and other blogs (including one Virginia will write about the joy of being the daughter of a woman who has dementia - I said that right - she considers it a joy) will be showing up on the Shades of Pink magazine website and we welcome others who want to post so watch for more information on that.
You might say I've found another way to act out that oft used axiom - "when life hands you lemons - you make lemonade".
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Listen...
One of my favorite Sunday night activities is the 7 p.m. service at the Episcopal Church of Our Saviour. Held in the chapel, a small group of regulars come each week to worship. As a Chalice Bearer/Reader, it is my privilege to read the scripture, assist the clergy and lead in the prayers of the people.
That's my favorite part. Rather than responding verbally to what is read the, people sing...
"Listen God is calling, to the world inviting - Offering forgiveness, comfort and joy"
Probably one of the most difficult things for me to do is listen.
I would much rather talk.
However, as we heard in the sermon this past Sunday - Lent is a season to listen.
Actually what the priest said is that it is a season of discernment and I remember being in discernment regarding a "Call to ministry" when I read a book called "Listening Hearts"
Must have something to do with listening - don't you think?
And what do you think I am trying to say, anyway?
Well I am asking myself a question. Because I have realized that I am once more at a crossroad in my life and once more I am changing roles.
I've done this before - change roles I mean.
All of us have.. .
Most of the times I have done this willingly. Once I did it "going down kicking and screaming". That was when I was no longer a pastor's wife. I really liked that role. In fact, in many ways I felt that God had specifically called me to be a pastor's wife. I have later said that had I not been a child of the 50's, I might have become a pastor - but we all know that girls didn't grew up to be pastors way back then.
However, with God's help, I survived that role change and now more than 30 years later, I can recall with gratitude the opportunities I have been given to serve in some sort of ministerial capacity.
And as I have said many times, I wouldn't change one thing about my life - even that very difficult "single mom with children" period. I know I'm bragging - but have you met my children?
In 2001, I took on a new role when I became my parents' caregiver. It was not a full time job then, but over the years, it took more of my time, talent and energy.
Fortunately when I became a part-time employee (not really by choice) in 2008, that freed me up to have more time for the role of caregiver which by then was defining me exponentially.
After my dad died in 2009, the care of my mother - as independent as she was - in her mind anyway, was paramount.
I am still a bit surprised that I gave up that role as willingly as I did when our Texas family invited mother to come and live with them at the end of 2013.
And now who am I? What am I doing?
Some of my friends who are retired really like the more relaxed easy life that they live.
That's not going to work for me.
But what?
I have a couple of ideas...they involve ministry...but I'm not quite ready to post what I am thinking.
Besides...I'm still listening,,,
That's my favorite part. Rather than responding verbally to what is read the, people sing...
"Listen God is calling, to the world inviting - Offering forgiveness, comfort and joy"
Probably one of the most difficult things for me to do is listen.
I would much rather talk.
However, as we heard in the sermon this past Sunday - Lent is a season to listen.
Actually what the priest said is that it is a season of discernment and I remember being in discernment regarding a "Call to ministry" when I read a book called "Listening Hearts"
Must have something to do with listening - don't you think?
And what do you think I am trying to say, anyway?
Well I am asking myself a question. Because I have realized that I am once more at a crossroad in my life and once more I am changing roles.
I've done this before - change roles I mean.
All of us have.. .
Most of the times I have done this willingly. Once I did it "going down kicking and screaming". That was when I was no longer a pastor's wife. I really liked that role. In fact, in many ways I felt that God had specifically called me to be a pastor's wife. I have later said that had I not been a child of the 50's, I might have become a pastor - but we all know that girls didn't grew up to be pastors way back then.
However, with God's help, I survived that role change and now more than 30 years later, I can recall with gratitude the opportunities I have been given to serve in some sort of ministerial capacity.
And as I have said many times, I wouldn't change one thing about my life - even that very difficult "single mom with children" period. I know I'm bragging - but have you met my children?
In 2001, I took on a new role when I became my parents' caregiver. It was not a full time job then, but over the years, it took more of my time, talent and energy.
Fortunately when I became a part-time employee (not really by choice) in 2008, that freed me up to have more time for the role of caregiver which by then was defining me exponentially.
After my dad died in 2009, the care of my mother - as independent as she was - in her mind anyway, was paramount.
I am still a bit surprised that I gave up that role as willingly as I did when our Texas family invited mother to come and live with them at the end of 2013.
And now who am I? What am I doing?
Some of my friends who are retired really like the more relaxed easy life that they live.
That's not going to work for me.
But what?
I have a couple of ideas...they involve ministry...but I'm not quite ready to post what I am thinking.
Besides...I'm still listening,,,
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
My bad
Today is Ash Wednesday.
In a word it is a day for accepting responsibility for our own actions.
Or as the Reverend Dean Taylor said in his Ash Wednesday message it's the beginning of us saying "my bad".
We have four choral scholars who join our choir for practice and worship each week. They are a real blessing and boost to us - not to mention they add a touch of humor.
When one of them misses a note (a rare occasion to be sure) we see a hand go up - an acknowledgement - "my bad". Most of us don't have a clue when we sing the wrong note, don't count correctly or "sing too loud".
However, it's something that we all should do. When we make a mistake we should first of all claim it, say we are sorry or as Scripture puts is "repent", then move on - "forgetting that which is behind".
As Father Dean pointed out this morning, the word for this is "confess". And when we repeat that prayer before we take the bread and wine that are offered, we "confess" our sins - some things we have done and some things we have not done and we ask God to have mercy on us and forgive us.However, it's something that we all should do. When we make a mistake we should first of all claim it, say we are sorry or as Scripture puts is "repent", then move on - "forgetting that which is behind".
Father Dean reminded us that this is the time that we recognize our mortality, repent of our sins, and return to our loving God. We recognize life as a precious gift from God, and return our lives towards Jesus Christ. The point of the matter is that it is the time for us to commit to change our lives so that we might be more like Christ.
When that's the case we'll have fewer times that we have to say - "My bad".
When that's the case we'll have fewer times that we have to say - "My bad".
And fortunately no matter how many times we have to say that - the answer will always be - "You are forgiven".
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