Gena

Today was a day of mourning in community. I expect that tomorrow may bring more of the same. Well, actually, we may be mourning for a while.

Last spring I wrote of a friend whose very full life was a testimony to LIVING with cancer. Yesterday, Gena moved to another life, one free of the constraints of this earthly life. And the rest of us... we began living a life without Gena. I believe that Gena is actually still with us, we just need to develop a new way of relating. It's going to take some practice.

Today's practice sessions involved learning how to confirm Gena's passing with the grief-filled voices on the other end of the phone line. My first try didn't go so well. "I'm calling to confirm something my daughter heard," he said. "Yes, she heard correctly. Mrs. Rohlfs died yesterday afternoon," I said... at least that's what I intended to say! It took three tries to complete the sentence. By the end of the day, I could do that pretty well. I could offer comfort without being the first one to cry. But, oh, cry we did. And, cry we will.

Tomorrow we'll answer more questions, share more Kleenex and tell more stories. Tonight, I need to be quiet for a while. Gotta go. I think I'm going to cry, AGAIN.

News Flash... Snow Chant Works!

The talk around here yesterday was all about whether we would get to use one of the 3 "snow days" our school system builds into the calendar. We've had a couple near misses that caused messy rides home, messy rides to school or 2-hour delays in the school start time.

Yesterday at the school we tried everything to encourage bad weather from wearing "Let It Snow" t-shirts to not posting our list of substitutes in the building for Friday to turning off all our computers as if it were really Friday instead of Thursday. On the off chance that it might work THIS time, I ran off copies of the Snow Chant that I keep handy for just such occasions. Many of our students stopped by my desk for their own copy. I must say, they finally got it right!

Today I will be spending the day at home! Yipee! We've got just enough bad weather to close down the schools and not enough to spend the next 3 days shoveling! I'm going to de-clutter a couple spots in the house, bake a cake and finish reading Eat, Pray, Love! Woohoo!

Life Lesson

This morning as I headed from the parking lot into the school, a cardinal was singing from the holly tree. The sun made him glow bright red, he sounded so happy.

He did not seem to notice the guy spreading sand in front of the building, nor did he seem to understand that tonight we're supposed to get snow, sleet and freezing rain.

I suppose that should be a lesson to celebrate life in the moment!

Childhood Villains

I have read and listened with interest to news stories of Fidel Castro's decision to step down as leader of Cuba. He was a very present figure in my childhood. I know he was behind those drills when we had to dive under our desks.

My grandfather was a newspaper man and we had to be quiet when "Meet the Press" came on TV. He had a keen sense of politics that I did not appreciate at the time. Grandad had been in both WWI and WWII. He was quite concerned about the possibilities of WWIII. My grandmother was also well-versed in current events. My most vivid memory of how world events affected my 6-year-old self involves my grandmother.

I was fascinated at the idea of having more than one phone in the house. I would occasionally listen in on a conversation using the extension in my grandparents' bedroom. One afternoon I forgot to hang up the phone. When the reminder tone came over phone line, my grandmother thought it was the air raid siren. I don't remember how long it took her to find the source of the alarm. I do remember her anger with me and not being able to sit comfortably for a while! All Castro's fault, really!

The other political villain of my childhood was Nikita Khrushchev. He and Castro seemed always together in the news broadcasts. It's Khruschev's face that I remember from a childhood dream. I was spending the weekend at Näna's house. (She was the grandmother with the drawer full of Betsy McCall paper dolls.) In my dream, a bald man was knocking on the window above the paper doll drawer. I recognized him from the nightly news broadcast - Khruschev himself was pounding on our window.

Khruschev and the U.S.S.R. are long gone. Fidel, though, has endured. What will happen next in Cuba? I'm grateful for the example set by my grandparents of staying informed of world events.

St. Anne's New Orleans Mission Crew

Eleven St. Anne's parishioners are spending this week re-building in New Orleans. I'm so jealous that I'm trying to decide why it is that I didn't seriously consider going with them! I suppose that reflection is still in the works.

Saving me from feeling entirely left out are Tim's podcasts. I'm so grateful that he is chatting with us each evening. There is even a sample photo from the day's work. Tim pulls in other team members to share their day, opening the experience to those who stayed behind. Thanks, Tim!

More Missed Photos

It's great to catch moments in a camera lens. Sometimes, our own eye is the only camera available. And some things just can't be photographed anyway. Here are some examples from this week:

• The power of the wind bending thick tree limbs
• Three guys in Civil War uniforms waiting to cross the road
• Hearing a friend's voice on a podcast (see Feb. 13 entry)
• Watching the kid I thought was an introvert get fired up in a discussion
• Waking up to the smell of bacon cooking
• Remembering I'm avoiding meat on Fridays during Lent - before I ordered dinner!

Lent

Good bye cookies
Good bye gum
Good bye fast food
Good by to some
vanilla latte and mocha mint.

Good bye Baby Jesus
Good bye Temple Boy
Good bye to the baptized Son -
Father's pride and joy.

Lent is here, am I up to the challenge
of watching the Beloved
Suffer His fate?

Hello early morning reading
and silent prayer
Hello sense of powerlessness
To the question, "If I were there..."

Would I follow Him through days that were
hot and hazy
On lakeshores and hillsides?
Would I worry and wonder and think He was crazy?

I will wonder, and I'll ponder
as I read more of the preacher
Read of the miracles, read of the teacher.

I'll cry and I'll question and I'll read of His dying.
I'll feel the pain and the sorrow,
I won't read ahead. It's Lent.