Hidden world of motion
Under smooth layer of blue
Whose creatures won’t survive
Outside the aqua hue
Nor can humans endure
Life in this blue domain
Inventions help us visit
Won’t allow us to remain
World below the waves
Separate from that above
Yet each sustains the other
Dive into this deep with love
Twenty-four! That’s how many first cousins I have on my mom’s side of the family. With twenty-four cousins, there was always somebody ready to play. Kickball, basketball, riding bikes, king-of-the-hill on grandma’s front porch-never an excuse for boredom!
As much as we loved playing together, we were not always nice to each other. One particular story comes to mind. I was spending the night at Aunt Mary’s house. She had six girls but was always willing to add one more. Her oldest daughter, Rebecca, was born twenty days after me, and we were always close growing up. One of us could be pretty bossy-not saying which one…
We loved to play pretend. This particular day we were playing house. Rebecca and I were the moms, the younger sisters divided between us as our kids. A make-believe phone call was made, an invitation to visit offered, with only one condition. Barbara could tag along, but not Janice-she would have to stay home. In other words, we didn’t want to play with Janice. The youngest of our pretend family, we decided she was too little to play.
Well, Aunt Mary got wind of our little plan, as usual. She sat us down for a chat. “Girls, imagine if I invited your Aunt Geneva over for coffee, and told her to bring Aunt Martha, but not Aunt Linda (her youngest sister). How do you think that would make your Aunt Linda feel?” Of course, that would not be nice, and sounded completely ridiculous! We got the message.
I know it sounds simple, but sometimes simple is exactly what we need. Gentle reminders, for both children and adults, encouraging us to walk in another’s shoes. Remembering our actions are capable of greatly impacting the feelings of others.
At that moment, Aunt Mary could have simply given us a consequence or made us go play outside. After all, there were seven girls playing inside the house! Instead, she chose to be calm and thoughtful in her response, giving us a real-life situation we could easily understand-and would never forget.
Thankful for cousin memories and the wisdom of simple truths.
THE CAMPERS ARE COMING!
For their 6th summer, Champions Special Ministries have literally been rolling out the red carpet for their campers. This organization provides summer camps for individuals with special needs. Campers are paired with a coach for the whole week. Their coach is with them all day, each day making sure they have the best possible camp experience.
My daughter Rachel and her friend Ariel have been coach and camper together now for 5 years. They were also friends in high school where Rachel worked as a peer tutor. Their friendship is special. And though Ariel may not express herself the same way Rachel does, their bond is unmistakable.
Today I stopped by the camp for a quick visit. I saw these two sweet friends sitting at the back of the room, participating in whatever ways Ariel found comfortable. Rachel got up so I could sit down and talk to Ariel. She wasn’t too sure about Rachel moving but looked me directly in the eyes as I greeted her and decided it was ok. Communication is challenging for Ariel but you can see her mind actively working, desiring to respond.
I sat down in the chair to her left, turning towards her. As I was talking about how good it was to see her at camp with Rachel, she gently reached for my left arm, pulling my hand around to her shoulder. I wrapped my other arm around her back and just hugged her for several minutes.
She was soon ready for Rachel to retake her seat. Back to the comfortable friendship they share. For a few brief moments, Ariel allowed me to also be part of her space. That small gesture-moving my hand to her shoulder-had enormous meaning.
I’m so glad I didn’t miss it.
Find out more about Champions at http://www.championsspecialministries.org
My creative life used to be filled with musical collaborations. While working toward my bachelor’s degree in piano performance, I spent many hours accompanying voice lessons and ensembles. Playing the piano was my life, but I increasingly began to enjoy working with other musicians.
Those experiences influenced my plans for grad school. My master’s degree work consisted of constant collaboration with other musicians. Preparation for recitals with vocalists, brass players, and string players filled my days and nights. Yes, it was challenging. Yes, it was exhausting. But oh was it rewarding!
In my professional life, I’ve also had those satisfying musical moments. Working as a university staff accompanist, faculty recitals, choral accompanying, opera workshops, etc. continued to keep my creative juices flowing.
Although music continued to be part of my life, I eventually stepped away from it as my main profession. Don’t get me wrong, I have no regrets. My life has been full. I spent nine precious years as a stay-at-home mom, worked as a special education teacher, and currently, I’m an elementary music teacher.
It has been a long time, a hot minute, as they say these days since I’ve played professionally. Today I suddenly realized that a part of me has missed it.
I’m in my final week as a rehearsal pianist for the Rose Rock Opera Institute. It has been a great experience, working with talented young singers and amazing teachers. One lesson today was extra special. The music placed in front of me was familiar. I had played it years before. Beautiful melodies weaving between voice and piano.
But then I saw those spots. You know the ones. The ones that gave me trouble years earlier. And that fear of making mistakes started to creep in. Thankfully the teacher had given me and the student a specific spot in the music to place our focus. We repeated one small, beautiful phrase about ten times before performing the entire piece one final time. It was amazing. We listened to each other’s parts, attempting perfect balance.
Was it exhausting? Yes! My brain was in high gear. Thinking hard about the line, voicing, surprising harmonies-working together to bring a piece of music to life. And just as this talented young student decided to take a chance, I did the same. Focused on making music instead of worrying about the wrong notes.
Today a creative spark was reignited. And for that, I am thankful.
Twenty-one today, how can that be?
Seems only yesterday, you were just three
Bossy at times, so sassy and sweet
A perfect description, your Dad would agree
Today all grown up-compassionate and strong
Advocating for special needs, desiring all to belong
Embracing the future, choosing hope in the world you see
A beautiful young woman standing in front of me
Today I remember your blue eyes and curls
Treasuring sweet times with my sassy little girl
Remembering the past but not lingering too long
Learning from you what it means to be strong
Letting go while holding on is where I find myself
Cherishing the pictures which sit on my shelf
So thankful I’m your mom and you’re my sweet girl
Happy Birthday, Dear Rachel! Today is all yours!
Have you ever driven down a one-way street, all lanes occupied-when suddenly a car is heading directly toward you-obviously going the wrong direction? This happened to me today.
I was going the right direction. Other cars on the road were also going the right way. The wrong way driver didn’t appear to be slowing, so swift action was needed. Even though the other drivers continued moving ahead, I slowed down and began to honk my horn.
Thankfully this got their attention. The wandering driver swerved across the lanes of traffic and into a parking lot. A little shaken, but safe, I continued to my destination. Part of me wanted to make sure the confused driver was ok, but turning around was not possible.
The experience made me think-people are sometimes like the cars on the street today. We move along this path of life full speed ahead, confident in our choices and direction. Surrounded by fellow travelers, we encourage each other to remain on the right road.
But what happens when we meet a confused wanderer going the wrong way?
We could do nothing, resulting in a clash. Arguments over who was right would certainly ensue. Neither party taking time to listen. We might swerve and go around, leaving them in their state of confusion. Or maybe we should slow down, stop, and meet the stranger right where they are-in the middle of the road.
Before answering the question, we must remember-at some point each of us is the wandering traveler, confused, and in need of guidance. Especially when going the wrong direction down a one-way street.
Yellow roses are quite captivating. Yellow is not my favorite color, but when it paints the petals of a rose, it causes me to remember sweet faces. Memories of my Grandma Mahar and my father-n-law immediately come to mind. They both loved growing roses, and yellow ones always seemed extra special.
Last week I saw yellow roses in a new way. A beautiful cascade covered my Aunt Pearl’s casket, a single yellow rose placed carefully in her hands. Their beauty, like a blanket of peace, provided comfort during a difficult time. I would imagine Pearl’s love of roses came from her mother, my grandma. And that she passed that love on to her children.
Flowers in this setting may seem insignificant to some, but I would disagree. Anytime objects bring to mind images of those we love, they have value. If we allow them to jog our memory, a cascade of yellow roses may turn into a flood of sweet faces. Faces of those who loved us. Faces we never want to forget.
Condensed drops of water
Floating high in the sky
Easily spotted from the ground
Yet more than meets the eye
Shade for a weary traveler
Relief for the dry, parched earth
Inspiration for an artist’s canvas
Imagery for the poet’s verse
Aesthetic or empirical
Which description would you choose?
Go outside and look up!
What have you got to lose?
Have you ever felt a sense of urgency to capture a specific moment in time? On a recent trip to my parents I had that very experience. Part of the reason for my visit was to see my Aunt Pearl. My mom has eight siblings, Pearl being her oldest sister. She was in poor health and the prognosis was not good.
I found myself sitting around the kitchen table at Aunt Elizabeth’s house with all but one of my mom’s six sisters. We were drinking coffee and chatting when the idea came…we should take a picture of all the sisters! A text sent, and then a phone call-Aunt Sharon would be there soon.
Attempting a photo of seven sisters in their 60’s and 70’s presented quite a challenge. Getting everyone to stop talking, just for a minute, look the same direction, and smile proved nearly impossible. The resulting images provided evidence of personality differences you would expect with seven sisters-bossy, easygoing, funny, and calm to name a few. Not that I would attempt to place labels. Unless, of course, my cousins were willing to help!
These women are strong, each in their own way. Their presence as I was growing up provided a foundation I find difficult to express in words, yet it is part of who I am.
Seated from left to right: Aunt Elizabeth, Aunt Pearl, Aunt Mary Standing from left to right: Aunt Linda, Aunt Sharon, Aunt Martha, Geneva (My Mom)
During our attempt at a picture, there was finally a moment of calm, everyone focused, recording the memory of this day in one snapshot. For that I am grateful. Today, Wednesday, July 11, 2018, my Aunt Pearl passed away. She would have turned 80 in October. The above photo was taken June 2, 2018. We will miss her so very much.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Matthew 5:4
“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.” Hebrews 10:23
Piano Girl 