...For those who served

For some it was a sense of duty, for others it was because they had no choice.  And for still others, it was because they knew it was time to grow up.

Tom Brokaw called them The Greatest Generation.  They would be the ones who felt a sense of duty, the young men and women who signed up with Uncle Sam in the late thirties and early forties to serve our nation.

One of them would be the first from his community to enlist in 1941 a few months before Pearl Harbor.  He would take his girl to what they later called their Sweetheart Tree and give her an engagement ring on his 20th birthday, just days after that fateful day in Pearl Harbor - and just a month before he climbed aboard a train and was off to serve his country.  He did get to come home for a short leave in August 1942 and marry his childhood sweetheart.

For the next four years, it was all about a war - him in the Pacific and her in Jacksonville.

In late 1945 he came home and they began to plan for their future, built a house and decided it was time to start a family.

That is how I became a baby boomer.

By the time I was in high school and college, many of my generation were far less that patriotic.  They were the ones who went reluctantly.  Some of them even became what was known as a draft dodger. They did not feel that same sense of patriotism that our fathers had experienced.  One man I know, whose father was a navy recruiter, fled to Canada,

Rich Suhey hoped he wouldn't have to go abroad. so he joined the National Guard.  He spent much of his time of service in Missouri doing something that was connected with the building of bridges.  But he served - and when he died my dad wanted him to have a flag on his casket.

I didn't realize the significance of that until yesterday.

My favorite veteran spoke to my mother's sharing group.  He was one who joined the Army because he knew he needed to grow up.  He had been gently nudged by a beautiful blonde that it was time for him to get his act together.  As that veteran's mother I can tell you I thank God every day for that wonderful girl and her encouragement.

One of the key points in Tray's talk was of the comradery that he and his granddaddy and my nephews share.  Well of course they share a bond - daddy loved his "boys".  But Tray said it was more than that.

"It was because we served".

So on this Veteran's Day - when daddy and Rich are not here for me to thank, but others, like Tray and Chad and Brad are ... I am grateful for those who served.

It's what grandmothers do. . .

"What are you reading?" I asked my 10 year-old granddaughter, Allie.

"Kisses from Katie",  she responded. I was a bit taken aback and it must have shown on my face.

"Oh no, Grand", she said. "It's about a girl who has an orphanage in Uganda and some day I'm going to go there and work in it."

So I got the book from the library and read it. I understood easily the reasons my second grandchild was enamored.

She was 12 the next time I heard about Uganda. Still passionate. And then I heard she had told her mother that it was time for the two of them to take a mission trip and that appreciating her fervor, my daughter, Renee Blain talked with Josué Calzada, First Baptist Temple Terrace's mission pastor. The logical step was an invitation to Allie to join a special task force as part of their Missions Committee with an emphasis on Orphan Care.

 

And maybe next August, Renee and Allie would go on a mission trip -

Except when Renee talked with the Florida Baptist Children's Home she was given the name of a representative who works with Orphan's Heart and their International Child Care Division....and there are two spots on the March team.

This week while Renee and her husband, Wally, were in their couples' Bible Study, Allie and her older sister, Abbie went to  work. I first read Allie's blog on Abbie's Facebook page. Ah technology.

They need to raise a lot of money for this to happen - and a lot in a short amount of time - $4,000 which is a little more than half of what is needed for both Allie and Renee to travel to Uganda has to be raised by December 9.

So I have shared Allie's blog (which if you click on the word WORK you will go to) and I am going to do what grandmothers do - I am asking for your support - first of all your prayer support. This is a huge step of faith for Allie - and maybe even a "huger" for her mom and dad and grandparents. However, we know that Allie is a child of God and what He wills for her is what we want. And, of course, your financial support is appreciated. Please send me a private message through Facebook or post a comment as noted at the end of the blog and I will send you the necessary information.  And when you read Allie's blog, you will see some other ways to help.

Of course, this is a big step, a big scary step. However I really like what Pastor Josue told Renee - and her family:

"Just keep walking until God closes the door"

Online donations:
https://fbchomes.ejoinme.org/MyPages/OHTripDonation2014/tabid/521976/Default.aspx

 

 

 

 

Sheliah's Glasses

I didn't know her well...just as the mother of my precious friend, Holly and the grandmother of Lexie, Avery and Sidney Fields who are among my favorite young people at the Episcopal Church of Our Saviour.

But when I attended Sheliah Page's memorial service I learned so many special things about her that I wished I had taken an opportunity to know her better.

Her daughter, Heidi, remembered her mother  helping another family in need and one of her neighbors told me how she gave up her parking place when the neighbor returned from lung surgery, still having much difficulty breathing.  This was an especially endearing gift, since Shelia herself had COPD. 

And then her daughter, Molly, the one Sheliah  wisely gave up for adoption but had been reunited with earlier this year, told me that her adopted mother had told her that it was important to Sheliah  that her baby be raised in the church and that is exactly what happened.  So much that Molly chose to be a teacher in a Christian school.

One of the neatest things about the memorial was a display of reading glasses.  There must have been 50 pair.  And if you were fortunate enough to be looking at it when one of her girls were also there you heard this:

"Take a pair of the glasses" And I did.


Earlier that day I had received a message from my friend Dr. Keith Holland: Stich is dead and Pascal is dying.

Six words and yet a depth of emotion. .  And if you read my blog regularly- you know that I am talking about the squirrels that Keith  had been caring for after they were left to fend for themselves when a hawk got their mama and they fell to the ground in the yard of one of the Jacksonville dentist's  patients.

Talk about getting attached to an animal.  Keith is grappling with questions like "what did I do?" and "what could I have done differently?.

I think what he did was give a little girl an opportunity to learn first hand about life - and death. 

And that helps her with living.

And of course, both of these things happened on what we celebrate as All Saints Sunday.  The day set aside for "remembering".  I know I don't have to have a day set aside.  I always remember!

And now that it is November I am remembering the birth of two little girls who call me mom and  have grown into dedicated Christian women.  When I was growing up and actually until I was 24 years old, it was in November that we celebrated my maternal grandmother, Pauline Nesmith's birthday.

It is also the month that I got that telephone call and heard a doctor say "your husband did not survive".

"It is both natural and proper to grieve for those loved ones who pass beyond our sight", Keith said in his message about the squirrels.

And it is good to have something tangible to help us remember - I have a photo of the squirrels, Rich Suhey's name, and Sheliah's glasses.

Cover letter circa 2015

I loved The Intern starring Robert DeNiro.  He has really softened through the years from being the tough guy to a man with a sensitive heart.

The movie begins with DeNiro's character, Ben, telling us about his life which was good and full but now he finds himself at loose ends.  Travel, grandchildren. yoga...none of this has been fulfilling enough to prevent a desire for something with purpose.

As we watch, we realize that he is making a video of himself.  This is apparently 2015's answer to the cover letter.  Of course he gets the job - as intern - which means he is not going to get paid.

Many of us can relate to this.   You know what they are saying - "60 is the new 40" so must of us who are beyond 65 are feeling like the Peggy Lee song, "Is that all there is?".
 

This is because we have worked hard all of our lives and rather than enjoy staying at home, we believe we still have something to offer. Yoga, bridge and lunch with friends is not enough.
 

DeNiro's character in The Intern appears to be comfortable without any extra income.  He can be a traditional intern with no remuneration.  That's only in the movies.  Many of us who are on Social Security need the extra income that a part time position  provides.

Perhaps you have seen the "Life Reimagined" AARP-sponsored spots on television.  One of them features a man who becomes an UBER driver.  That's not me.  Oh, there's one thing the man says that I can identify with - he needs the funds to pay for the fun things he wants to do.

I do need the extra money.  But it's more than that for me.  I like having a purpose, a place to go, the satisfaction of interaction with others.

 

So this morning I crafted a cover letter that basically said what I have just written.  I am not quite savy enough to film myself.

 

Besides - words are cheap.  I'm pretty sure the equipment to create selfie version of a cover letter is not.

Faith, Family, Friends

I am often asked - what do you like to write about?

My answer is usually - faith, family and friends - not necessarily in that order.

Those three things - my faith, my family and my friends are what I would consider paramount in my life.

Every Sunday I repeat the words to the Nicene Creed - affirming my belief in Jesus as the Son of God who was crucified, died and rose again.  That's the basic tenet of my faith.  I have friends and even family who do not agree with what I believe.

That's their prerogative.

It has been well reported that the Episcopal Church has now adopted the practice of performing/blessing same sex marriages.  I am one who does not agree with that.  I believe marriage is a sacrament and should be between a man and a woman.

That's my prerogative.

I'm a Notary Public.  I can perform marriage ceremonies.  It's one of my favorite things to do.

Several months ago I was asked to perform the marriage of two women.  I said no.

This afternoon I am going to that wedding.

It's because of that "friends" part of who I am.

The mother of one of the brides is one of my dearest friends.  There is no way that I would miss sharing the joy she feels today.

Besides - this in no way changes the fact that I believe Jesus is the Son of God. . .et cetera, et cetera, et cetera!

All they need is love. . .

Okay I know the name of the song is "All you need is love".

However.

"I have killed more squirrels that you can imagine," Dr. Keith Holland told me.  "I always think of them as tree rats.  They get the seeds I put out for the birds.  Once they even destroyed five small trees I had planted", he continued.

Keith was telling me this as he gently lifted one of the baby squirrels that he is caring for.

He is a dentist; not a vet.

When Sandy Arpen, the Chairman of the Board at the Mandarin Museum, told me that Keith was coming to help with some Maple Leaf archives that he has recently borrowed to display at the museum, and that he was bringing the squirrels, I was much more than curious.

I have heard of rescue dogs and rescue cats and although I am not really an animal lover, I think they are cute and appreciate the way people are adopting them and caring for them.

But "rescue squirrels".

It seems a hawk had gotten the mama squirrel and the nest fell into the yard where a nine year old patient of the dentist lived.  Her grandfather knew that Keith had recently been unsuccessful in his attempt to save another squirrel.

"I think this is my second chance", said Keith.

And so it was on that Friday that I watched as Keith filled a syringe with strawberry flavored Pedialyte and slowly fed Stich  After ten syringes had been dispensed into her tiny little mouth, he gently washed her face and handed her to me.

She was wrapped in a towel and Keith told me to stroke her head.  He said "any creature just needs to be loved".

He followed the same procedure with Pascal and then we put them back into their climate controlled cage - which includes a heating pad, a thermometer, a few twigs from a tree's branch and a little cloth hutch where they sleep. 

I watched as they played a bit and then snuggled in to the hutch.

Keith and the Maple Leaf divers were at the Museum the next day as a part of our participation in Smithsonian Day when all of our buildings were open.  I used to take my kids to work with me -- sometimes I take my mother - I never have taken an animal.  However, there was Keith with that little cage.

"It is necessary that they are fed every two hours", he said.  "So, they have to go with me".

I must have passed muster when I held Stitch because on Saturday I got to feed her.

And then I asked Keith - what happens when they outgrow the cage?  I was really saying when will it be time to let them go?

"It's almost time for them to go back to the first person who loved them, my little patient," he said.

I doubted that the little girl would care for the squirrels quite like my new friend.  I suspect that her parents will encourage her to let them go back into their natural habitat.

When I accepted the job at the Museum, I had no clue what I was getting in for.  Every day there's something new, fun, interesting.

It's been said that a person who lives alone should have a pet.  Am I going to rush right out and rescue a squirrel?  Well - no.

Neither am I going to get friendly with the black racer that lives under the porch at the museum.

The wisdom to know the difference

"I'm not like you," she said.  "My memories are all bad".

I thought about it for a while. 

Are my memories all good?

Hum.  I remembered that when my first husband and I were going to get a divorce I could only remember the GOOD memories.  That made it more painful.  I was grieving what was good and I forgot that there had, of course, been some bad.

Strange as this may seem, I prayed and asked God to help me remember the bad and when I did..."oh help"...what a time I experienced.  Not pretty.

But by and by the memories leveled out.  Things that I remembered in a bad light became the springboard for me to change something.  Somehow through that process as well as many other times of reacting and transitioning into a different phase in my life I learned to see the good in bad situations.

Early in the "losing my husband" through divorce stage a friend gave me the book When Bad Things Happen to Good People, another friend gave me How to Survive the Loss of a Love and someone else shared For Those Who Hurt.  All three of those books have remained a part of my library - now for more than 33 years.

Those books plus lots of prayer and support have been helpful - more than once in my life.  The words and actions of my friends have been a comfort.  The love and involvement in the lives of my children by family were paramount in the Christ-honoring  lives that I see them living today.

I needed the serenity to accept the loss of one husband to divorce and another to death.  I could not change the circumstances.  I needed the serenity to accept the fact that I had made many mistakes in both cases and I could not go back and re-do what I had done.  I needed to be forgiven and I needed to forgive myself.

So yes I have some bad memories.  Am I being a Pollyanna?  Worse than that - Am I being dishonest? 

Well actually what I am doing is practicing what my mother said her mother taught her "You don't have to put all your dirty laundry on the line."

Just know that what I try to practice is having the wisdom to know the difference!