Checking In!

I got a message the other day that someone had left a comment on a blog post! Wow! Someone is still reading my dormant blog? I'm so awful at keeping up a with journals, diaries, blogs.

While talking to a friend this weekend I remarked that I sometimes wish I could remember how it really felt to be ...... fill in the blank with an age. Following through on those old journals or diaries might have given me the insight I wished for. I kind of doubt it, though. Those efforts were more like calendar entries than a record of my feelings. To be honest, I doubt I will ever record my deepest feelings.

Here are some photos to catch you up on a few feelings, though...

Grammy Love

Compassion

Relief... Melanoma In Situ, Stage 0

Fun

Confusion?

Smile-worthy

Wasn't that me just yesterday?

Visiting the Past - Cabo Rojo, PR

Pride - Flowers Arranged for a Wedding

Grammy's Heart Has Melted

Feeling the Love

Invitation to Peace

Round and Round

The seasons they go 'round and 'round!

When I began this blog I was a new grandmother.

Now look! There she is - first grandchild - four years old.

As the Circle Game continues, this first grandchild is now the oldest of three siblings... just like her mom, just like her grammy. (Well, I actually am the oldest of 5 siblings.) She's growing up quickly. I want to slow her down while she just wants to grow up.

Happy birthday, cutie! Grammy loves you!

Apple Crisp Time

This afternoon I made my first apple crisp of the season. It's cooling now on the stove and smells wonderful. We'll dig into it soon.

As I cut up the apples and smooshed butter into sugar and oatmeal, I reflected on the events since the last time I made the first-of-the-season apple crisp.

In no particular order:
My school community lost a young teacher to cancer.
Our youngest daughter moved out of the house, became engaged AND married.
We welcomed the new son-in-law!
I had the pleasure of a sister and brother attending the wedding.
Our granddaughters are expecting a new sibling soon.
My husband moved out of the office and into the house when he retired.
We had MOUNTAINS of snow!
My school community organized a 5K in honor of the young teacher we lost.

Really, a lot has happened in the past year. Most of it has been good. Maybe I'll get back to writing!

Olympics

I'm watching the last of the men's 50K cross country skiers come to the finish line. I don't know if NBC kept the cameras rolling because it's good form to honor the last as well as the first, athlete to cross the line or if it was because the final finisher is a Dartmouth College student, but I am glad they did. I have an appreciation for the final finisher that I did not have before I limped across the finish line of a 5K last spring.

Yup, I was last. What a mind game that is. I spent a lot of emotional energy deciding whether it would be better to call it quits or suck up the shreds of pride I had left and get across the line. I even stopped to take a picture along the route! I wouldn't do that again. I would, instead, reach deeper and keep the finish line in focus. Yes, I'd rather not be last. I think there is a dignity in crossing the finish line that I did not understand before.

I've had another champion in mind this week as I've watched Olympic champions. This week was the anniversary of Gena's death. Now, there was a woman who never gave up! Her mantra was KEEP GOING! Even after 10 years of fighting cancer, I never really thought she'd stop. I like to think that God got tired of waiting for her, yanked her to-do list from her hand and said, "Come home."

We're now in the count-down to the big U.S. - Canada match for the ice hockey gold. Some will wear gold home, some will wear silver. They'll give it their all... just as the team that was eliminated first gave it their all.



This year, that 5K will be run again. I had toyed with the idea of scaling back and participating in the 1 mile "fun run" rather than marching through those 3.1 miles. The race is in 3 weeks and I haven't trained at all. My decision was made for me yesterday when I either dislocated or broke the little toe on my right foot. The way is clear, now. I'll be a course cheerleader. I'll wait for the last runner or walker on the course and, with all my heart, yell, "KEEP GOING!"

Remembering the Butterflies

Today, November 25, is the anniversary of the 1960 assasinations of Minerva, Patria and Maria Teresa Mirabal, along with their driver and friend Rufino de la Cruz. Known in the Dominican Republic as the Butterfly Sisters, they were working to end the dictatorship of Rafael Trujillo. Their story is the subject of Julia Alvarez' book, In the Time of the Butterflies. Their home is both a museum and an extension of the national cemetary.

It is a peaceful place, a beautiful garden spot filled with the powerful story of the Mirabal women. If you are lucky enough to visit, you might be even luckier and encounter Dede, the sister who tends the memories and keeps the story alive.



On November 25, 1999, the United Nations established an annual International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women. The date was chosen to honor the Butterfly Sisters. They worked for release from the tyranny of a dictator. Join in the work for release of tyranny from all abuse against women.

Random Fall Photos

U2 Concert at FedEx Field Sept, 2009






Vietnam Veterans Memorial October 3, 2009





Crucifix
Washington National Cathedral Oct., 2009




Underside of a really cool mushroom, Oct, 2009

Dogwood, Oct, 2009






Wolf Gap Winery, Virginia Nov., 2009


Last of the fall leaves Reston, Nov., 2009

Labyrinth

Walking to the center of a labyrinth as a physical act of centering prayer is a powerful experience. Like sitting quietly and meditating, walking the labyrinth is not without its distractions, especially when walking in a group. It takes some work to stay in a prayerful frame of mind.

We have a canvas labyrinth at St. Anne's. It gets rolled out fairly often for use by the congregation. Because it's portable, we've also carried it to Shrine Mont for use in retreat activities. I've been to a labyrinth walk at the National Cathedral and now, Shrine Mont has its own outdoor labyrinth made of stones.

Most often, my labyrinth walking has been quiet. Starting with a deep breath, I've plunged in. Step by step, cares of the day fall away. Step by step, the pilgrimage proceeds. Step by step, I approach the center.

A year ago I walked the candle-lit labyrinth while a friend came to the end of her fight with lung cancer. I stepped into the center and realized that I had carried my friend with me. While standing in that spot closest to God, I knew that God was waiting for me to hand over my worries. My friend was a faithful Catholic, she knew God's strength and support in her life. Who was I to worry? God held us both, I needed to let go. I walked out of the labyrinth, leaving that burden of worry behind.

Almost exactly a year later I entered the stone labyrinth in the woods. A few of us had found our way there after the Sunday service. The words of the final hymn were in my mind as I walked the leaf-strewn pathway, "I will call upon the Lord... who is worthy to be praised." The sky was clear, birds were chirping, a few bright red leaves clung to a tree. "So shall I be saved from my enemies... I will call upon the Lord." I almost tromped through the labyrinth as I sang in my head, "The Lord liveth... and blessed be the rock... and let the God of my salvation be exalted..." I heard my friend coming up beside me. She said, "I've decided to greet people on my journey." We hugged, knowing we both had the recent funeral of a young teacher in mind.

The labyrinth as shared journey. Sing it together, "The Lord liveth, and blessed be the rock."