So many months have slipped by trailing so much news. For a writer, it seems that each day was crammed with so many storylines. Spoilt for choice, too lethargic to make a decision on the theme for the day, months slipped by.  There were so many stories in my head.

My house search all year was such hard work emotionally as well as physically taking up all my free time.  Each new listing raised expectations but the fall-out from frustrated hopes made it harder to keep the sense of adventure and hope.  Eventually I found the house of my dreams .I invested much time in shopping for the new place. I felt that after a year of being without my own home, I could be rooted again.  Two weeks before moving in, my second expert advised against it.  Despite the cost, I felt that the only prudent action was to withdraw but I’ve left a bit of my heart on the hill side.

Somehow, I made room for the extra stuff I had bought in preparation for the move and unpacked my crockery that was in packing cases for over seven years.  I know that when I do find a house, I can never pack it all up as the professional packers who transported it so safely across the seas. Yet the convenience of having it all packed up could not compare to the comfort of having it displayed now. I changed the dominant color of my furnishings to red and lifted my mood with a spirit of thankfulness. I have shelter and space. Life is good.

The process of becoming a citizen ended in a somber ceremony in the Federal courthouse. Ladies from Charleston provided refreshment and civic groups very thoughtfully provided us with the US flag, a description of how it should be used, the pledge, a summary of the amendments. There was also a letter from the President. Of course, my fellow citizens and I had passed the Civic test but to be given these in such an accessible way was truly thoughtful. The guest speaker’s passion made me tearful. True, I had not come on a dangerous journey to escape persecution or for religious or economic freedom.  I love the country of my nationality, its culture, its institutions, its health service and its peoples. So why leave?  Because home is where the heart is. For me it became unsustainable to live so far away from those I truly love.

I had agonized over the oath of allegiance. To me, it is not a form of words but a God-given pledge to be loyal to the flag above all else.  I played with different scenarios when I might have to choose. Yet my choice will never be in doubt because as painful as it might be my availability to family remains my greatest motivation. After all love of family, love of country is fundamental values. We are expected to treat foreigners well but there is also a divine directive for the alien to pray for the welfare of his “city”. God bless our state. God bless every state of our precious Union.

 So many months have slipped by trailing so much news. For a writer, it seems that each day was crammed with so many storylines. Spoilt for choice, too lethargic to make a decision on the theme for the day, months slipped by.  There were so many stories in my head.

My house search all year was such hard work emotionally as well as physically taking up all my free time.  Each new listing raised expectations but the fall-out from frustrated hopes made it harder to keep the sense of adventure and hope.  Eventually I found the house of my dreams .I invested much time in shopping for the new place. I felt that after a year of being without my own home, I could be rooted again.  Two weeks before moving in, my second expert advised against it.  Despite the cost, I felt that the only prudent action was to withdraw but I’ve left a bit of my heart on the hill side.

Somehow, I made room for the extra stuff I had bought in preparation for the move and unpacked my crockery that was in packing cases for over seven years.  I know that when I do find a house, I can never pack it all up as the professional packers who transported it so safely across the seas. Yet the convenience of having it all packed up could not compare to the comfort of having it displayed now. I changed the dominant color of my furnishings to red and lifted my mood with a spirit of thankfulness. I have shelter and space. Life is good.

The process of becoming a citizen ended in a somber ceremony in the Federal courthouse. Ladies from Charleston provided refreshment and civic groups very thoughtfully provided us with the US flag, a description of how it should be used, the pledge, a summary of the amendments. There was also a letter from the President. Of course, my fellow citizens and I had passed the Civic test but to be given these in such an accessible way was truly thoughtful. The guest speaker’s passion made me tearful. True, I had not come on a dangerous journey to escape persecution or for religious or economic freedom.  I love the country of my nationality, its culture, its institutions, its health service and its peoples. So why leave?  Because home is where the heart is. For me it became unsustainable to live so far away from those I truly love.

I had agonized over the oath of allegiance. To me, it is not a form of words but a God-given pledge to be loyal to the flag above all else.  I played with different scenarios when I might have to choose. Yet my choice will never be in doubt because as painful as it might be my availability to family remains my greatest motivation. After all love of family, love of country is fundamental values. We are expected to treat foreigners well but there is also a divine directive for the alien to pray for the welfare of his “city”. God bless our state. God bless every state of our precious Union.

 So many months have slipped by trailing so much news. For a writer, it seems that each day was crammed with so many storylines. Spoilt for choice, too lethargic to make a decision on the theme for the day, months slipped by.  There were so many stories in my head.

My house search all year was such hard work emotionally as well as physically taking up all my free time.  Each new listing raised expectations but the fall-out from frustrated hopes made it harder to keep the sense of adventure and hope.  Eventually I found the house of my dreams .I invested much time in shopping for the new place. I felt that after a year of being without my own home, I could be rooted again.  Two weeks before moving in, my second expert advised against it.  Despite the cost, I felt that the only prudent action was to withdraw but I’ve left a bit of my heart on the hill side.

Somehow, I made room for the extra stuff I had bought in preparation for the move and unpacked my crockery that was in packing cases for over seven years.  I know that when I do find a house, I can never pack it all up as the professional packers who transported it so safely across the seas. Yet the convenience of having it all packed up could not compare to the comfort of having it displayed now. I changed the dominant color of my furnishings to red and lifted my mood with a spirit of thankfulness. I have shelter and space. Life is good.

The process of becoming a citizen ended in a somber ceremony in the Federal courthouse. Ladies from Charleston provided refreshment and civic groups very thoughtfully provided us with the US flag, a description of how it should be used, the pledge, a summary of the amendments. There was also a letter from the President. Of course, my fellow citizens and I had passed the Civic test but to be given these in such an accessible way was truly thoughtful. The guest speaker’s passion made me tearful. True, I had not come on a dangerous journey to escape persecution or for religious or economic freedom.  I love the country of my nationality, its culture, its institutions, its health service and its peoples. So why leave?  Because home is where the heart is. For me it became unsustainable to live so far away from those I truly love.

I had agonized over the oath of allegiance. To me, it is not a form of words but a God-given pledge to be loyal to the flag above all else.  I played with different scenarios when I might have to choose. Yet my choice will never be in doubt because as painful as it might be my availability to family remains my greatest motivation. After all love of family, love of country is fundamental values. We are expected to treat foreigners well but there is also a divine directive for the alien to pray for the welfare of his “city”. God bless our state. God bless every state of our precious Union.

Defining Minutes

A minute can make such a difference. We can miss a flight, have an accident, break a leg, have a diagnosis that changes our life forever. After two months, I’m adjusting to such a defining minute that haschanged the trajectory of my five year plan. Now, the future is laden with possibilities and ripe with choice. After my early morning dash to the hospital fearing the worst, I feel that I’ve been incredibly blessed to have emerged without serious complications or disability. It is a gift from God and I’m truly grateful. When folks close to my heart are living with hope while watching the shadows of death, I feel an urgency to redeem the precious gift of time. Some people are so highly organized that listening to the details of their day makes me breathless and envious. However, I want to spend time meaningfully whether at play or at work. As I prepare for the last decade of work, it is imperative that time is prioritized as there are many diversions. Some, I intend to enjoy to brighten the journey but I can so easily get distracted from my primary goals. For me, getting ready for heaven does not mean winding down on earth. Living life fully is part of the preparation of the journey. The only certainty that humans have is that life will end eventually. Although, all ages die; statistically, those over sixty are closer to life’s end than those in their thirties. So at this stage, it is helpful to be dealing with greater certainty. Someone gave me estimates for wooden and aluminum steps. I wanted a structure that was maintenance free. As I was about to choose the aluminum one, I was told that the wooden step would last thirty years. Both the salesman and I laughed as we realized it’s hardly likely that I’ll be around. I think that I’ve bought the last piece of Royal Grafton china. It is beautiful but I’m undecided. Do the years of enjoyment merit the investment? After all, my family may not care for it. My Cuisinart food processor should outlive me but I enjoy kitchen gadgets so will replace whatever happens, I can see much clearer as the years have past. Distant peaks of the final mountain range can be glimpsed as time has provided me with “eterno-focal” lenses through which to view the world. Through these lenses, I can forgive human frailties, recognizing the human desire for self-preservation. Maya Angelou identified courage as the most important attribute. Recent events have convinced me that her choice reflected her wisdom. Without courage, we cannot be loyal to our convictions, our values or our friends. Without courage, we cannot seize the opportunities we are offered or anticipate and enjoy the closing decades of our lives. I plan to enjoy this journey and to learn even more along the way.

Conditional Love?

February 22nd is Ash Wednesday, 2012, the start of Lent which would culminate in the beautiful ritual of Easter amidst the fragrant lilies and vibrant spring flowers competing for attention as winter slowly retreats. I’ve enjoyed this winter. It has been thoughtful never snowing me in. My car has always started and my plans have not been frustrated by icy conditions or poor visibility. Today, I’m not wearied by the season, however long it lasts, longer, brighter days beckon.

I feel that this unusually mild winter is God’s gift to me this year.
Valentine ‘s Day celebrations still reverberate. We think of love, past and present. Whatever our status, we hope to be loved in the future for to be loved by parent, sibling, friend or lover is to have a life immeasurably rich.

I couldn’t help but remember the Bodyguard, and the poignancy of the promise as Whitney vowed “Ill always love you” That refrain is echoed in many hearts as distance and circumstances dictate that mere loving is not enough. The heart loves, the mind rules. Yes loving is a great start but we need so much more like common values, shared beliefs or equal commitment.

In the wake of Whitney’s death, this song is a constant refrain in my mind. The beautiful lyrics haunt. I loved Whitney. I’ll always love her voice but one day I may forget. Yet, I know that even if I do, the Christ who died because He loved me will continue to do so, no matter what.. From His resurrection on that spring morning He has controlled time. He has promised to be with me always, to life’s very end.
Now that is a promise, a divine contract and I know whatever the circumstance “He will always love me.’

Holiday Clips

The year is a month old. It has been a fabulous winter unless you are addicted to snow. Festivities of Christmas and New Year have long been added to our memory bank. There were many memorable moments clamoring to be captured in print. Tiredness provided a constant excuse for neglecting to journal. Now, my need to write has overcome my ambivalence about what to write about. So I’ll start with Christmas. My cousin spent Christmas with her sister in Illinois with my family, We last met more than forty years ago. The girl has morphed into a confident, vivacious grandmother. I was really surprised when my cousins’ picture of my mother was so fun-loving, funny, teasing and playful. Her eyes lit up as they recalled their stories of her so I think that mom missed that part of herself too. Children sometimes forget that their parents play other roles, showing different parts of themselves to others. My father’s absence (his second christmas away) was not paralyzing. No one cried but there was no forced hilarity either. We found happiness in being together creating new rituals in the process
On New Year’s Day, my brothers, except Wilt in Atlanta, and their spouses came to dinner in West Virginia. We had a long very pleasant evening with digestible food and great company.
On Saturday, January 28th, I returned to Illinois with my brother Emanuel, who was so very ill last year, for our father’s memorial service two days before his ninety fifth birthday. It was Emanuel’s longest ride and he drove for almost four hours of the journey. God protected us and kept us safe through the detours in heavy rain to mom’s house in Illinois. I am in awe of my sister, Esther who cares for my mother. The youngest of nine, and daddy’s princess, she is indeed living up to her name. Although sick, she remains patient and uncomplaining as she runs the home and organizes mom’s care. To welcome us, she managed to find time and energy to create a feast.

On Sunday, after the main service, we lunched with my oldest sister, Verna before the cemetery visit. As if on cue, the preachers amongst us started “in the sweet Bye and Bye”. I wished they hadn’t. However, I had my own special tribute as I poured on dad’s grave the rosemary leaves taken from my herb pot in remembrance. The service that followed was very evocative of his life. As the little church filled up, with folk who knew him, I thought what a life, what a legacy to leave something positive of yourself in the hearts of people. I have been so blessed with two unselfish and warm parents. They loved people and tried to help. These were the witnesses that they were there for the dispossessed and the marginalized. My ailing mother who rarely speaks enjoyed the service too. Despite the effort she insisted on standing with the congregation and there were many such moments. Later, at Ruth’s house where we were having dinner, we asked about the service. She said that she enjoyed the singing but insisted that she enjoyed the sermon best. Of course, the preacher was her son and despite her eighty seven years, he still had her support.

Thousands of miles away, across the sea, Dad’s forbears lay buried. He sleeps alone for now in a quiet corner of St Joseph’s garden: yet in a foreign land, he made a difference and the world is better and smaller because of him.