A Pilgrimage
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
In Heaven...
The Ghost of a Memory
My writing marathon has resurrected a ghost of a memory. As I ascended the grand old opera house staircase in Lincoln, Nebraska this past weekend, I looked at my reflection in the antiquated mirror. My reflection seemed to hover in the air, and it immediately transported me back in time to leave me wondering if this life really just is smoke and mirrors.
I remember when I was pregnant with Ian. It was August and after a risky and painful bout of preterm labor, my doctor sent me to bed for two full weeks; our moms arrived to our home in Middletown Springs, Vermont to care for baby Colin while Derrick continued to bring home the bacon. Although it was fantastic to have our moms so close, each for a week at a time, I was frustrated about being confined to bed. I was nervous if baby Ian would be born early, and if he was, would his lungs be prepared to meet this big, bad world. Why was he so eager to embrace this world when I was being forced to cocoon him a bit longer?
I remember on the fifteen day of my forced hybernation. Our moms had returned to their homes the day before, and our small family of 3 and a half were once again on our own. I awoke at 3:03 in the morning. As I was lying on my left side staring in a calmly peaceful way across my sleeping husband, I noticed that there was a woman hovering next to his side of the bed. She gazed down lovingly watching him sleep. Her stiff white shirt collared her neck with ruffles, and her cats-eyed shaped glasses framed her warm and wistful gaze. She never looked at me. My gaze never left her, and there I lay watching her watch him. When she dissipated into thin air, my peacefulness left me. Abruptly, I flipped over my awkwardly pregnant body and raced into the nursery. Colin slept soundly on his belly with his legs drawn up beneath him. I covered him with the light blanket, but let my hand rest on his back for a few assuring breaths. I returned to bed and my original position while waiting for my husband to awake at the predetermined time on his alarm clock.
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| This is actually my great Aunt Ida... |
This was the first time that I saw a ghost. A couple of times in my life now, usually when my heart is most anxious, I experience the presence of a loved one long since lost. A few months later, while I nursed our little one in the colorful midnight hour of Christmas, this ghostly figure would return to me again. Some people say that they don't believe in ghosts, or angels for that matter, and while my mysterious visitor could have been either, I believe because I have seen.
Thursday, September 24, 2015
Utilizing the Keuka Sneak...
Princess Leia's Great Escape
With all of the rain this week, I decided to put our puppy, Princess Leia, out on the doggy run off of the parsonage front porch for the very first time. I had no idea that the excitement from this would scar both of us forever.
When I think back to where this simple situation went wrong, I remember just being excited to watch Leia on the run for the first time. Although I have had pups my whole life, each one's personality is so totally different from another that it is like experiencing everything for the first time. Leia is a corker! For as bold as she is, sometimes she becomes incredibly anxious. It was this anxiety that got the best of her as I prepared to attach her for the very first time. So as I walked bent over to grab the hook from the run to attach to her collar, she came to a dead stop. I was propelled forward staggering alone with her collar, as she remained on the porch unaware of her new found freedom. When this epiphany finally dawned on her, all of a sudden, a maniacal look filled her eyes (see below representation from google images).
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| from leadchanges.net |
She realized that from my prone position, she would have unrestricted freedom if she ran for it, for the first time in her young life...no leashes to stunt her adventures, no fences to reign in her quests. She was free at last! She decided to go for it, and go for it, she did bounding from the porch and heading for the hills!
I felt like a linebacker for the first time in my life as I quickly recovered from my shock and panic. Leia was dogging and weaving like any running back from the NFL, but this time, I feared, her life might be on the line if she made her way out toward Route 20. (If you want to learn more about how to use your "fancy footwork" to perpetrate an awesome juke like Leia did, please go to http://www.wikihow.com/Juke-in-Football.) Leia analyzed my body language to anticipate my next move, and that caesura was what gave me my advantage. As she flashed right, I came around her back and tackled her with my arms wrapped around her back haunches. She was a slippery little sucker, but I held on for a least five seconds as she dragged me across the poop infested front lawn and down the sidewalk. I lost my grasp just before she catapulted over the retaining wall. I was sobbing. I was screaming (cue in the famous Stella scream from Streetcar Named Desire), "LEIA! LEIA!" She was gone. Gone forever, and it would be on my watch.
I was inconsolable. Inconsolable, that is, until I remembered an ancient move that my sister Pattie told me about back when she was an undergraduate at the lovely Keuka College on the Finger Lakes in New York State. "The Keuka Sneak", as it would come to be known by future generations, came into being when late one night some unscrupulous interlopers were running away from the Keuka security guards- security guards whose average age was reported to be around 90 years old. As these future felons were making their great escape, one of the security guards allegedly fell to the ground, while grabbing his heart and moaning under the guise of being in tremendous, and quite lethal, pain. With his freedom in precarious danger, this trespasser returned to where the security guide lay to make sure the guard was just injured not actually dying. Therein was the perpetrator's downfall and capture! "The Keuka Sneak's" success always mystified me, but now I was prepared to unleash its powerful punch.
This inspiration came to me as I contemplated on my imminent doom of returning home empty handed without Leia, the apple of my husband's eye. "That's it! I'll get her back with the Ol' Keuka Sneak," I silently thought to myself. Immediately, I began rolling back and forth on the ground nursing my bruises and contusions, which were real, not bogus, at this point. "OHHHHHHH!" I moaned as Leia made her way to Lincoln. But just as she was about to turn the corner, she stopped and looked back at me. It was like she was plaintively suggesting, "Get up, Mommy. Lose that collar and come with me. Come on, Girl! Come on, Mommy!" But I didn't.
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| boomerscruzin.com |
And slowly my mischief began to work. To quote Ralphie from The Christmas Story, I just "lay there like a slug. It was my only defense." Slowly Princess Leia inched her way back toward me with a confused and curious look in her big brown eyes. When she came within arms' reach, I snapped up to grab her around her midsection, slapped her collar around her neck and limped my way, with her in tow, back to the porch.
Sometimes an old strategy can serve us well in a new battle. Freedom, while appealing, can come at a very high cost to us all!
Monday, September 14, 2015
Saturday, September 12, 2015
Westford, MA
With My Knight in Shining Armor (or shall I say amour?)
This summer, another knight from Westford, Massachusetts caught my attention. On the 4th of July, my mother-in-law and I stopped to visit this other bad boy on our way back from dinner. The clangunn.us website said this about my stoic friend (please see below). In the meantime, I am sure that there are lots of video games that incorporate the Knight Life into their quests, but perhaps you would like to take a virtual Tour about a Day in the Life of a Knight (https://prezi.com/cwn1inkawah-/virtual-tour-of-the-life-of-a-knight/). Get it? A Day in the Life of a Knight? How punny!
| "The Westford Knight The following information is taken from the brochure "The Remarkable Prince Henry Sinclair". The brochure itself is based on an article entitled Was Glooscap a Scot? reprinted as Yours Aye, August 1988, giving credit to Atlantic Insight of June 1983. Born in Scotland in about 1345 A.D. Henry Sinclair became Earl of Rosslyn and the surrounding lands as well as Prince of Orkney, Duke of Oldenburg (Denmark), and Premier Earl of Norway. In 1398 he led an expedition to explore Nova Scotia and Massachusetts. This was 90 years before Columbus "discovered America"! Prince Henry Sinclair was the subject of historian Frederick J. Pohl's Atlantic Crossings Before Columbus, which was published in 1961. Not all historians agreed with Pohl, but he made a highly convincing case that this blond, sea-going Scot, born at Rosslyn Castle near Edinburgh in 1345, not only wandered about mainland Nova Scotia in 1398, but also lived among the Micmacs long enough to be remembered through centuries as the man-god "Glooscap". Henry Sinclair's ancestry was a mixture of Norman, French, Norwegian, and Scottish. The first Sinclair known in what is now the United Kingdom had arrived with William the Conqueror in 1066. Sinclair's grand-father, a friend of Robert the Bruce, King of Scotland, died fighting the Saracens in Spain in 1330. His father, Sir William Sinclair, also died in battle while fighting the Lithuanians from a base in Prussia in 1358. Henry was 13 at the time. He was trained in martial exercises with sword, spear, bow and arrow. He spoke Latin and French, and became a knight at the age of 21 years. His first wife, who died young, was the great-grand-daughter of King Magnus of Sweden and Norway. His second wife, Janet Holyburton of Direton Castle, bore him four children. Sinclair was installed as the Earl of Orkney and Lord of Shetland when he was only 24, and held his appointment at the pleasure of King Hakon VI ofNorway. As "jarl", he was next to royalty. He had authority to stamp coins, to make laws, remit crimes, wear a crown, and have a sword carried before him. He had already been rewarded by King David of Scotland for a successful raid into England, with the title of Lord Sinclair and the position of Lord Chief Justice of Scotland. Sinclair excelled in a furious time. Sinclair happened to be in the Faeroe Islands, which were part of his earldom in 1390, when he heard that a ship had been wrecked and, since shipwrecks were fair game for pillage at the time, the local fishermen were attacking the crew. Sinclair rescued the mariners, and discovered they were Venetians. Their commander, Nicolo Zeno, was a brother of the most famous admiral of the time, Carlo Zeno. Sinclair hoped to dominate the northern seas, and promptly appointed Nicolo commander of his fleet. After Nicolo's death, Sinclair appointed another Zeno brother, Antonio, as fleet commander. Nicolo and Antonio used to write to Carlo "The Lion" in Venice, and this correspondence was published in 1558 by a great-great-great-grandson of Antonio. Historians call it the Zeno Narrative, and it is a basic source for Pohl's intriguing account. This Zeno Narrative told about a survey to make a map of Greenland in about 1393; it was conducted by Nicolo Zeno, and later by Prince Henry's ships. This Zeno Map of the North proved to be the most accurate map in existence for the next 150 years! Not only did the Zeno Map chart the sea with uncanny precision, it also showed certain landmarks. For example, it illustrated two cities in Estotilanda (Nova Scotia), possibly founded by Sinclair at Louisburg Harbor and St. Peter's. A castle or fortification was shown. There is speculation that Zeno based his map upon a much more ancient map, coming from the Templars in the Middle East, carried in secrecy by them for safekeeping in Rosslyn Castle, until Price Henry commissioned its update by Zeno. The Zeno Narrative reported that as far back as 1371, four fishing boats (the fishermen were Sinclair's subjects) were blown so far out to sea that they eventually came ashore on land that was probably Newfoundland. They spent more than twenty years on the island, and apparently on the lands to the south, and then one of them made contact with some European fishermen and managed to return to the Faeroes. Sinclair decided to explore these new lands and set sail around April 1, 1398. His fleet consisted of 13 little vessels, two of them driven by oars. The Zeno Document suggests he tried to land at Newfoundland but was driven off by natives, and then sailed into Chedabucto Bay. It is believed he dropped anchor on the first of June in Guysborough Harbor. Sinclair then sent 100 soldiers to explore the source of smoke they saw swirling above a distant hill. The soldiers reported back that the smoke was a natural thing proceeding from a great fire in the bottom of a hill, where a spring, from which issued a certain substance like pitch, ran into the sea. Thereabouts dwelt a great many people, half-wild, and living in caves. They were of small stature and very timid. Geographical detective work, archaeology, modern science and various documents have pinpointed the burning hill as the asphalt area at Stellarton, about 50 miles direct from the head of Guysborough Harbor. The Scots liked the soil, the rivers, even the air, and wanted to establish a settlement. A portion of his party returned home, but he kept some men with him together with two oar-powered boats, which were good for exploring rivers and coasts. He took them through the Strait of Canso to meet the Indians at Pictou. Apparently he persuaded the Micmacs to act as guides in his exploration. Sinclair may have travelled to Annapolis Basin and across the Micmac canoe route to Liverpool. By October, he was back on Green Hill, southwest of Pictou harbor, to attend a gathering of the Micmacs. " 'Twas the time for holding the great and yearly feast with dancing and merry games" His winter campsite was on the high promontory of Cap d'Or, overlooking Advocate Harbor. During the winter, the expedition built a ship and, when spring arrived, Sinclair sailed away from Nova Scotia. They travelled southward, perhaps carried by a northeaster, to the New England Coast, just north of Boston. The party landed and spent the winter, living peacefully with the Indians. To the west they could see a hilltop from which the Indians frequently sent smoke signals. Accompanied by his 100 men, Henry marched inland to the summit of this hill, now called Prospect Hill, located in Westford, Massachusetts. It is 465 feet in altitude and afforded a good view in all directions. While at this area, one of Prince Henry's loyal attendants by the name of Sir James Gunn, also from Scotland, died. In memory of the lost companion, the party carved a marker on the face of a stone ledge. It consisted of various sizes of punched holes, which depicted a Scottish knight, with a 39 inch long sword and shield bearing the Gunn Clan insignia. The punch-hole method of carving involved making a series of small impressions with a sharp tool, driven by a mallet. Where glacial scratches or rock colorations existed, they were incorporated into the man-made design. Some holes were larger and deeper than others, probably due to the dulling of the carver's tool and centuries of weathering. In the words of Frederick Pohl, "the following are undeniably man-made workings: the pommel, handle, and guard of the sword; below the guard the break across the blade that is indicative of the death of the sword's owner; the crest above the pommel; a few holes at the sword's point; the punched-hole jess lines attached to the legs of the falcon; the bell-shaped hollows; the corner of the shield touching the pommel; the crescent on the shield; and the holes that form a decorative pattern on the pommel." Now weatherworn and faint, one can see just enough of the carving to visualize the rest of it.Of course, there have been many investigations to verify the authenticity of this carving. There remains little doubt that this memorial is not a hoax, nor some Indian marking, but rather, the true monument created by Prince Henry Sinclair, nearly 600 years ago!" |
Monday, September 7, 2015
Grieving...
So Many Causes...
So Little Time...
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| (from webneel.com) |
This has been a heartrending week.
So many losses at a time of year when I am already susceptible to being reminded of other ones. They are sort of like my preexisting conditions because the ache of missing loved ones is like a constant dull, throbbing pain in my heart and a fog across my brain. Despite my Faith, sometimes I am at a loss what to do, but I have amazing pillars surrounding me that I can lean on when my inspiration runs dry.
Actions always speak louder than words, and I guess that is what I am thinking about tonight. What can I possibly do, what acts of Mercy can I perpetrate to offset the overwhelming grief at loss and illness, violence and heartbreak?
I am surrounded by answers, to name only a few, if my action can overcome my inertia...
- On this my cousin's birthday, her young life cut short from CMV, I support an organization that pledges to stop CMV through education, awareness and research... Each year I try to get one of my speechers to take on this topic, and although my persuasive powers clearly have faltered, I end up explaining it to many students each year, praying that it never profoundly affects their family as it has mine.
- By participating in the Relay for Life, I not only honor the memory of each family member who fought against cancer, but honor those who still fight.
- Halestock... This was the first year I was able to attend Halestock. This incredible day long celebration of good food, live bands and tie die actually raises money that my cousin, and her children, donates in memory of her husband.
- EJHS Class of '83 charities: Every five years when my High School Class has its reunion, we raise money for charities that fight against causes that took our classmates. So far we have contributed money from our silent auctions to fight diabetes, heart disease and domestic violence. Women Helping Battered Women is also an organization that I have supported since one of my friends, and former school secretary, was murdered by her husband.
- And as I approach the anniversary of our Goddaughter's death by SIDS, I share the story of her life and her mother's indefatigable courage as I invite my students each year to share their own autobiographical narratives about turning points in their lives... And I guess that is all that matters, right- our stories and how they intersect with those around us in love or grief or whatever comes at us and how we move forward on the journey toward tomorrow.
- This summer we went to a Horse Show to benefit our dear family friend as she battles cancer. I learned so much about Horse Shows and had the chance to spend the day with my awesome Uncle.
- Pizza Hut Coupon Card to benefit Paul Howey! I walked into Pizza Hut after another late night during homecoming week, and what did I spy with my little eye?? $10 coupon cards and all of the proceeds go to Paul Howey's family. Let me tell you... with Colin's wreck just over a year ago, I am happy to purchase one of these cards! Won't you do the same? Thanks, Pizza Hut!
Thursday, August 20, 2015
Immersed in Gratitude....
August 20, 2015- One Year Later
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One year ago today our son was in a terrible car accident, but, by the Grace of God, Colin's quick thinking and my colleagues' unconditional support, he survived to tell the tale. I am overwhelmed by gratitude on this day. I play that scene over in my mind again and again, and I know beyond any shadow of a doubt- God is real.
Just one year later, I can't help but think about all that has happened. So many beautiful blessings that came from devastation. God is good.
Everywhere I look today, I see abundance. In the fields around our town, in the increasing number of my family members gathered around the table in the breaking of bread, God is faithful.
But every now and then, when I see darkness, I am afraid. It's then that God is my strength.
One year later, I get to teach with an amazing family of talented professionals who serve faith-filled students, and their families, in a very complex world. God is my shield.
God is alive and so is our precious son, Colin. One year later... God is (still) love.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Cincinnati, Ohio
National Underground Railroad Freedom Center
We arrived in Cincinnati (http://www.cincinnati-oh.gov/cityofcincinnati/visitors/) just in time to snag some supper before the game, but I saw this imposing figure nearby...
The National Underground Railroad Freedom Center (http://freedomcenter.org/). We didn't make it to the Center this time, but we'll get there the next time we are in town! Check out some of the work that they do (http://freedomcenter.org/get-involved/learn-and-engage)... and this was from their Facebook page...
July 29 at 7:22pm · Edited · The
eyes of the nation are on Cincinnati. Today the Hamilton County grand
jury returned an indictment for murder in the tragic shooting death of
Samuel DuBose during a routine traffic stop just over one week ago.
During that time the DuBose family has called repeatedly for only
nonviolent responses while seeking answers from the criminal justice
system. That answer is now at hand and the family’s continued calls for
nonviolent response to ensure that his peaceful way of life
can be remembered purely should be respectfully honored. At the same
time our community must continue to have open and transparent dialogue
as we look deeper into our nation’s racial disparities and seek freedom
and justice for all. The National Underground Railroad Freedom Center
stands ready to be a convener and provide a safe haven for these
conversations. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the DuBose family
during this difficult time. We echo their call for peace and join them
in their belief that the judicial process will reflect integrity and
yield a just outcome. #SamDuBose #BlackLivesMatter
Monday, August 3, 2015
Lunenburg, Vermont
Watching a Summer Storm with My Cousins
One of my happiest memories from the summer was watching a summer storm with my cousins. My cousin Kathy shared this amazing Scott Thorp picture (scottthorpphoto.com)on her Facebook page and, although this wasn't exactly what it looked like as we looked out from my Cousin Harold and his wife Pat's barn, it's pretty close.
The Dump
...and The Recycling Center
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| Garbage is a monster |
For one small cabin, we generate a lot of trash in the summer. I am so grateful that my handy dandy dump has one awesome recycling center close by! Not only do people leave books and other valuable goodies there to be snatched up and used rather than to sit in a landfill, we recycle just about everything in North Concord, Vermont! Now, when I say "we," I mean that the town has set up an effective system wherein I sort all of my recyclables, whatever can't composted or dumped: plastics, paper, cardboard, aluminum and yes, wait for it... glass! It is such a glorious feeling.
One day during Lent this past year, my English students were writing in their journals about their Lenten devotions. I shared that I had seen one woman's blog about how she was giving up plastic for Lent. As we debated this idea back and forth about how her sacrifice could bring her closer (or not) to God, we brought up pictures on the computer of the various garbage islands/patches (http://response.restoration.noaa.gov/about/media/how-big-great-pacific-garbage-patch-science-vs-myth.html). It is so powerful to see and learn about the devastation of our trail that we leave behind as we consume on a daily basis (http://thehigherlearning.com/2014/06/08/this-19-year-old-has-a-plan-to-clean-up-half-of-the-pacific-garbage-patch-in-10-years-video/).
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| from thehigherlearning.com |
This sight was powerful enough for me too that I finally made the jump away from disposable water bottles and styrofoam coffee cups (How could we do this at church for fellowship hour?) whenever possible to the reusable or recyclable ones. The ECHO aquarium in Burlington, Vermont (http://echovermont.org/) took their conservation efforts to the next level by educating the future generation (with a dash of fear perhaps) about the monster we are creating with our mounds of garbage. For those of us who live on the water, the aquarium's monster that they made out of water bottles was a visual reminder of the essential work that we all have to do. Go to http://rozaliaproject.org/ for more information about what you can do to save the oceans.
In ancestry.com...
"What are you looking for?"
As I listened to Derrick's sermon about John 6:25 - 35 on Sunday, after we had driven cross country from Vermont and arrived back in Nebraska, I was struck by the question that Jesus asked his disciples in John's Gospel, "What are you looking for?" Yes, I am absolutely always looking for the Bread of Life, but immediately, I began to think about genealogy and my obsession with ancestry.com.
In the summer while I am home in Vermont loving and serving my mom, I spend a lot of time trying to fill in the blanks in my genealogy puzzle. I track down cousins and their missing dates while stalking around in cemeteries trying to connect the leaves in our family tree. Sunday's sermon reminded me to ask myself, "what are you looking for?" in all of that data. I guess my answer remains the same... I am looking for the Bread of Life; I am looking for communion.communio or community with others. My family tree boasts some diversity... we don't all look the same or worship alike, but there is this life-giving force that wells up within me when I am with my family- past, present and future. And the irony is... we're all really one family, aren't we? So, for me, this adventure is really about forging connections and hearing the stories. Those stories inspire me to run the race that has been set before me. If I get off track, my family and my Lord, much like Lola our GPS...call me back with Light and Love onto the right path... "Recalculating..."
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| Cousins are family... |
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| We are all searching for something... |
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| from the beginning... |
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| Another genealogy junkie... I learn so much from Henrietta each summer! |
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| And our family continues to grow! Welcome, Bridget! |
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| Friends are family... |
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| Godchildren are family |
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