Why?

Horror

Numbness

Why?

Words on the radio

No words

Why?

Joyful day

Turned tragic

Why?

Images

Of a familiar place

But so wrong

So violent

Why?

Survivors

From another tragedy

Running to heal

But hit again

Why?

Uniformed servants

Responded quickly

Battle scenes

Not Boston streets

Why?

Sirens

Ambulances

Blood

Horror

Why?

Yellow tape

Clues searched

City lockdown

Shock

An eerie silence

Settles over Boston

Why?

March on Hunger

Red shirts assembled

Worship centered on hunger

Sang praises to God

Walkers met outside

Umbrellas deflecting rain

Waiting to begin

We marched on hunger

Toward the Idaho Statehouse

Red shirts in light rain

The mood was upbeat

We stood at the Capitol

Hunger was discussed

Red ribbons were tied

To ropes that each person grasped

Then we walked and prayed

Prayers to end hunger

As we walked ‘round the Statehouse

Prayers for the hungry

We’re just beginning

The event lasts the whole month

This March on Hunger

Build an awareness

Of the causes of hunger

Collect lots of food

Plenty food exists

Problem is distribution,

Heartless politics

Red shirts organize

Work to end hunger worldwide

One step at a time

A Season of Nonviolence

At the beginning of Lent about 150 people in my church signed a pledge promising to monitor and work on limiting the violence in their daily lives.  I was one of those people.  Each of us took home a purple bracelet stamped with “A Season of Nonviolence” to remind us of our commitment.  Some people give up a favorite food for Lent—our sacrifice was to give up violence.

With this commitment we acknowledged that peace begins within us, our families, our faith communities, and beyond.  We agreed to show respect for ourselves and others in word and action.  We said we would communicate carefully, peacefully, and eliminate violence in our speech.  We would listen to others, especially to those with whom we disagree.  We pledged to apologize when we hurt others, and forgive those who hurt us.  We would respect and care for nature.  We said we would practice nonviolent recreation.  We pledged to be courageous and challenge violence in all forms.

There were those at my church who didn’t take the pledge—they simply couldn’t do it.  Some of the people who did said it was hard.  My pastor confessed that she had to give up one of her favorite TV shows, CSI, and switched to the cooking channel instead.  One 15-year-old boy took his pledge very seriously.  He switched from spring football to track.  He said that he liked the nonviolent approach—it made him feel much calmer.  This teenage boy was not only brave enough to tell his peers, who didn’t understand, but he also stated his view for TV cameras in an interview about our church project.

And me?  I found it a bit easier than some of my fellow members.  By nature I am a fairly quiet, nonviolent person.  I am not easily angered.  I don’t hit or throw things.  I seldom yell.  I don’t like violent TV shows or movies so I rarely watch them.  However, I became aware of how pervasive violence is in our society.  Threads of it run through our daily lives and we are oblivious.  While I did not have to switch my bracelet as often as others (we were to switch wrists each time we encountered violence), I found violence in both expected and unexpected places.

It is hard to listen to the news or read the paper without finding violence in it.  In fact, I would say it is impossible.  Our media knows that it sells and they highlight it.  I found it difficult to avoid this sort of violence.  I encountered a violent scene in an unexpected place—I attended a special dance show aimed at elementary students.  A local dance company performed excerpts from some of their recent dances.  I was surprised when they included a piece from a dance based on Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus, a very violent play.  In this dance the queen was given a plate of something red, obviously bloody, which she stuffed into her mouth.  During the question and answer period, one child asked what she was eating.  The adult avoided answering and told the child to research it.  Another place where I encountered violence was at a church leadership conference that I attended with my pastor and a few others.  War-like language was used multiple times plus we were even shown a picture of Jesus holding an assault rifle.  Seriously?

To my dismay, I even caught myself a few times.  I lost my patience with my adult daughter and yelled at her over the phone—totally counter-productive.  While listening to a radio report about North Korea’s provocative threats against my country, I found myself wishing violence against those leaders.  I was ashamed.  During a conversation I was told something that totally frustrated me and “I could just shoot her” popped out of my mouth.  Oops.  Of course, I didn’t mean it.  Why did I say it?

Violence in all forms is woven through the fabric of our society.  It is so common that we often fail to notice it.  The first step in developing a more peaceful world is to notice the violence.  Peace begins from deep within us—from love and respect for others and the world around us.  As Mahatma Gandhi said, “Nonviolence is not a garment to be put on and off at will.  Its seat is in the heart, and it must be an inseparable part of our being.”  To achieve a nonviolent society, we must first learn to sit and listen to others so we may truly understand them.  Nonviolence requires commitment from all of us.  “Nonviolence is not inaction.  It is not discussion.  It is not for the timid or weak.  Nonviolence is hard work.  It is the willingness to sacrifice.  It is the patience to win.”  (Cesar Chavez)

Today is Easter Sunday, the end of Lent and my church’s “Season of Nonviolence.”  We were invited to place our purple bracelets into the offering plate.  I did so knowing that from now on I will be more aware of what I say and do.  I will strive to live with love and peace in my heart, and try to summon the courage to speak out against violence and for justice in our world.  Nonviolence begins with the individual.  It begins with me.

3/31/2013

Good Friday Observed

Nailed to a cross

Mocked by men

Abandoned?

Three women watch nearby

Cling to each other

Agony

He speaks to them

Take care of each other

Love

Wine is offered on a cloth

He takes his last breath

Finished

The sky turns black

Temple curtain tears

Despair

Candles light a darkened sanctuary

Cross is draped in black

Solemn

The story of this dark day is told

One by one candles extinguished

Remember

Emotions run deep

Feelings unspoken

Tears

What pain do you bear?

Bring it to the cross

Release

Even in the darkness

The love is there

Wait

Just Add the Words, Idaho

A year has passed since we attended rallies, a hearing, and posted notes in the Statehouse asking our legislators to add the words “sexual orientation” and “gender identity” to the Idaho Human Rights Act.  Nothing happened last year.  This year organizers decided to try a different tactic.  Lawmakers were approached individually for conversation.  Organizers asked them about their concerns on this subject and listened carefully to their answers.  What they discovered was a lot of fear—of constituents, of what could happen next, of flamboyant behavior, and more.

In early February, an educational panel discussion was held on the Idaho Human Rights Act.  Community leaders, businessmen, and clergy spoke about the importance of amending the Act.  This event was well attended by the community, but unfortunately not by lawmakers, even though it was held in the capitol building during lunch hour.  The discussion was videotaped and is being shown around Idaho.  We hosted a viewing at my church.

Yesterday supporters were given the opportunity to educate the Senate and House State Affairs Committees in a joint listening session.  This was a huge step.  No public testimony was taken, but everyone was welcome to attend.  I was there with other members from my church.  There were five speakers—a conservative, retired business manager with a gay son, the Boise City Chief of Police, a lesbian, a representative of a large business organization, and a Human Resources manager of a large company.  These people spoke clearly about why a change is needed.  The first speaker shared from his heart about his struggle to change his point of view when his employer mandated a non-discrimination policy and he had to help implement it.  When his son announced he was gay, his attitude began to shift.  The police chief was eloquent in his plea for safety for all citizens.  The lesbian touched everyone, I think, when she told how she had feared for her job and was unable to openly share about her family.  She is very normal-looking, even beautiful—perhaps some legislators noticed her lack of flamboyance.  The businessman talked about the importance of having diversity and non-discrimination policies in order to attract new businesses to our state.  The HR manager explained how she integrated gay and transgender employees into the workplace.  At the end, legislators asked a few questions of the speakers, and of some of the community leaders sitting in the front row.  (My pastor was there.)  It was a good hour, and hopefully some minds were opened.  However, there will be no bill this year.

At a time when other states are passing laws allowing same-sex marriage, Idaho cannot even pass non-discrimination legislation.  It is very discouraging.  Our LGBT citizens have been waiting a long time.  If lawmakers would just take the time to get to know some of their LGBT constituents, I think their hearts would be opened.  Since my church has become a Reconciling Congregation (welcoming all), we have had all sorts of people walk through our doors.  My Reconciling Ministries team actually has five lesbians on it.  They are very normal people living very ordinary lives.  They have shared some of their fears and struggles with the rest of us.  We have just begun a LGBT support group.  There were seven people at the first meeting and more will be joining.  On Sunday, while chatting with another member, he came out to me and said he wants to be a part of this group.  I was so pleased that he trusted me and our church enough to take this big step.  All of these LGBT members are good people and make our church much richer for their presence.

The gay man I mentioned asked me yesterday, “Why is this such an issue?”  Honestly, I don’t know.  Why are people so obsessed with who others love and what they do in their bedrooms?  As I’ve told a lesbian friend, the least interesting thing about her is that she is a lesbian.  She is so much more.  The state senator who organized yesterday’s session said that many mothers all over the state have contacted her and said that their gay son or daughter can’t come home to their small town.  The hurt runs deep.  When are lawmakers going to show compassion and end the discrimination?  As this senator stated, “I don’t like ‘oughts’ and ‘shoulds,’ but the light comes on at some time.  I’m ready for the light.”  Let there be light.

3/21/2013

The Elimination Diet

On the advice of my physical therapist, I went to see a new doctor recently.  She specializes in diet and nutrition; my physical therapist thinks she may be able to help me with my inflammation which could be due to a food sensitivity.  I had filled out a bunch of paperwork beforehand.  The doctor asked me lots of questions, examined me, and sent me home with information on the “Comprehensive Elimination Diet.”  The purpose of this diet is to “clear the body of foods and chemicals you may be allergic or sensitive to, and , at the same time, improve your body’s ability to handle and dispose of these substances.”  I cannot eat wheat, corn, rye, dairy, eggs, oranges, pork, beef, sausage, shellfish, cold cuts, soy products, peanuts, peanut butter, butter, margarine, processed oils, salad dressing, mayonnaise, alcohol, coffee (no caffeine), soft drinks, refined sugar, white/brown sugar, honey, maple syrup, corn syrup, chocolate, most condiments, and more.  Wow.  This is a challenge.

Before I could begin the diet, I needed to go shopping to purchase alternative foods.  I was give a shopping list, a 7-day menu, and recipes.  I ended up visiting three stores, the last one a natural foods store, to find everything I needed.  It was expensive.  The first 2 days I followed the menu and did a lot of cooking.  Our refrigerator was overflowing with vegetables and containers.  As the days pass, I am learning to simplify and reuse leftovers in new ways.

How is it going?  I am now on Day 11.  The first few days I had a horrible, splitting headache from caffeine withdrawal.  My physical symptoms which caused me to seek help have, so far, remained.  I was warned that it might be best to avoid strenuous activity while my body adjusts to this huge change in diet.  I have ignored that and continue to exercise and attend my tap class.  I have noticed that I have much less energy.   I have learned that this is not a very portable diet.  A few days ago, I attended a conference and had to take all my own food AND distilled water and tea.  However, I am learning a lot about what is in the food we eat.  I am forced to read labels.  The food we buy in our supermarkets has so many additives and contaminants.  Buying organic food can be frustrating (to find) and expensive.  No matter what I discover from this diet, I now have a new awareness about the food I put into my body.

Mental Illness—A Cry for Help

Tonight I was halfway listening to a TV program about the mentally ill, specifically about the young men who have recently committed mass murders.  One particular story caught my ear.  A couple was talking about their son who has struggled with mental illness since he was young.  They did their best to get him help.  However, once he turned 18 they could no longer get him help because of privacy laws.  Their son is at times violent and has threatened them so they have been forced to ban him from their home.  The problem, his mother said, is that he does not believe he is sick.  He doesn’t think he needs help and gets angry and frustrated with those who try to help him.

This struck very close to home.  I have a family connection to a man who is severely mentally ill and is now in serious trouble.  I will call him Brian.  Throughout his life Brian has gone through ups and downs as he struggled with mental illness—his family has struggled too.  I don’t know all the details.  Brian is now in his 40s.  About 5 years ago it seemed like his life had turned around.  He had recently married a wonderful woman.  She was working at a good job and Brian, a talented artist, was busy creating.  They talked about moving to property she owned and building a home.  When talking to Brian it is obvious that he is intelligent.  It is also obvious that something is wrong by the way he talks—I have found that I have to really concentrate while conversing with him.  Brian is an educated man and met his wife while they were in culinary school.  He is an excellent cook and has worked for restaurants.  His parents were so happy about his marriage and new direction.

Then something shifted for him.  Perhaps it’s that he went off his medication.  Brian moved in with another woman, one with children, and used his wife’s money to support them.  His wife was able to shut off his access to her money, and eventually he ended up back on her property (they had not yet built a home) and into an unheated trailer.  After a while Brian’s now estranged wife contacted his parents.  A concerned neighbor had called her.  Brian was playing loud music all hours, day and night.  This neighbor went over to see him and was alarmed by how skinny he was.  This neighbor asked Brian if he was hungry and he said yes, so the neighbor began bringing food to him.  Brian’s parents were able to connect with the neighbor and tried to seek solutions.  Finally the sheriff was called for a welfare check.  Brian was taken to a hospital, but by law they could only hold him for 48 hours.

Brian’s parents became so concerned about him that they flew across the country to see him, unannounced.  They had some good conversation and took him to dinner.  They were relieved when he told them he had sold his guns to buy musical instruments.  However, the visit ended badly when he got upset and chased them off the property.  While in town the parents met with the caring neighbor and the sheriff who told them that legally he couldn’t do anything until Brian actually did something and he could arrest him.  Discouraged, they flew back home.  The family began receiving angry, ranting, threatening phone calls from Brian.  This was especially hard on his mother who ended up in counseling.  Brian blamed them for his problems and also claimed that the Feds were after him—he does not believe that he is ill.  During this time his wife filed for divorce.  The family had to stop answering his calls.

I got a call yesterday.  Brian is in jail.  Neighbors were returning something to him, and Brian shot at them—multiple shots.  He later claimed he wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, just scare them.  Soon almost 30 police cars surrounded the area.  Neighbors were evacuated.  Finally, after all was quiet for a while, the police drove up to his door and Brian surrendered peacefully.

Luckily, nobody was hurt.  His family believes that Brian would never intentionally hurt anyone.  They worry about him harming himself.  Neighbors told the police and the media that Brian is mentally ill.  One neighbor stated that this is a lonely cry for help.  This did not need to happen.  Not only is mental health care in our country in a sorry state, but we make it nearly impossible for families to get help for their mentally ill loved ones.  One woman, whose sister is mentally ill, said to me that we give them the freedom to kill themselves.

Granted, there is a fine line between violating a person’s rights by committing them against their will and protecting them and society from harm.  This country went from locking up people who didn’t belong in mental facilities to letting very ill people fend for themselves.  People who are extremely mentally ill, off their meds, and in crisis are not able to make a rational decision about their own welfare.  We must adjust our laws so that concerned family or law enforcement can get them the help that they need.  Obviously, this must be balanced with protection of their rights.  Mental health care in this country must be readily available to everybody.  Teachers and others working with children need to be trained to spot troubled children so they can get the help they need early in their lives.

And so we wait to hear what will happen to Brian.  I hope that he will be hospitalized and get the mental health care he so desperately needs and not remain in jail.  There are people advocating for his care.  I believe that as citizens of this United States, we must insist on appropriate care for all of our mentally ill.  That would represent true freedom.

2/22/2013

Off to Sun Valley

January is a good month to leave Boise—this year it would have been a really good idea.  When we returned home after the holidays, there was snow on the ground.  There is STILL snow on the ground (unusual for Boise).  About a week after our return the temperature plummeted.  The lows were in the single digits, often close to zero and the highs were in the teens.  And then there was the inversion—cold air trapped in the valley which gradually became dirtier and dirtier until there were orange air alerts—unhealthy to breathe.  The sun was nearly a forgotten memory.  People grumbled and plotted escape.  More snow arrived, improving the air for a short time.  One morning, on a day that snow was predicted, we got freezing rain instead—a layer of ice covered everything.  Cars were frozen shut and people slid and fell while walking across parking lots.  Body shops and hospital ERs did brisk business.  The sun finally did make a brief appearance but it was just a tease.  The highs got up to freezing, almost balmy it seemed.

My husband and I were excited to leave Boise behind and join our friends in Sun Valley for a couple days.  The sky was an intense blue and the sun reflected brightly off the snow.  We stepped into our cross country skis and inhaled the cold, crisp air.  We spent two lovely days breathing the clean air and soaking in the sunshine as we skied the groomed trails.  It was easy to forget the weather at home and enjoy the pleasures of Sun Valley.  However, the time came to return home, so we packed up the car and headed south.  We were barely past Mountain Home, about an hour from Boise, when we saw it—a layer of brown blanketing the scenery ahead.  Moments later we were back in the haze and the sun had disappeared.  Sun Valley was just a memory.  Perhaps next year we will become snowbirds and head south for the winter.

Midnight Snow

On a cold winter night

The midnight hour arrives

But our yard is bright as day

Soft snow blankets everything

Each small branch clothed in white

And beheld together

Appear as fine lace

Woven by angels

A peaceful silence enhances

Winter’s beautiful offering

Christmas Eve in New York City

We arose relatively early on Christmas Eve day.  My husband, daughter, and I trudged up the hill from Erin’s Brooklyn apartment to catch the train into Manhattan.  Our destination:  Times Square.  It was a work day for Erin and we followed her a couple blocks to her place of employment, the Discovery Museum.  She was able to get us into Harry Potter: The Exhibition.  While we wandered through the exhibit, Erin went to work selling audio tours.  Of course, we got audio tours, too, and found it really added to the experience.  It was interesting listening to the people who worked on the movie while looking at the displays of costumes and props.

We wave goodbye to Erin, walked down to the waterfront, and paid for our admission to the Intrepid Sea, Air & Space Museum complex.  We chose to stand in line to see the Growler, the only American strategic submarine open to the public.  We crawled down into the sub and as we walked its length we viewed the crew’s living quarters and the once top secret missile command center.  It was a short walk through history.

  

Next, we walked across the pier and boarded the Intrepid, a World War II aircraft carrier.  We began on the hangar deck and were amazed to see a large model of the Intrepid made totally out of Legos.  We started with the aircraft then viewed the display of historic uniforms, equipment, and other memorabilia.  The highlight was the flight deck with it sizable collection of historic planes and the great view of the Manhattan skyline.  My husband, with his love of airplanes, especially enjoyed strolling along the deck.  We crawled up some steep, narrow stairs to the Navigation Bridge, the highest point on the ship.  On the far end of the flight deck we got a glimpse of the Space Shuttle Enterprise, but couldn’t actually get close because it hadn’t yet re-opened after damage to its pavilion during Hurricane Sandy.

Down on the third deck we viewed the old galley and mess halls—they fed a lot of men.  Since it was past lunch time we took advantage of the new mess hall set up especially for visitors.  When we exited the Intrepid we walked down the pier to see the British Airways Concorde, a very sleek looking jet which looks entirely capable of flying 1,350 mph.  Then it was time to meet Erin back at the Discovery Museum at the end of her shift.  We went back to her apartment to rest. 

Early evening we headed back to the subway and to Manhattan.  When we emerged from the subway station at Times Square, we were disappointed to be greeted by a light rain.  However, we walked on to see the sights.  Erin and I pulled out our little umbrellas, but Bob didn’t have one. Finally, he was feeling wet enough to stop and buy an umbrella, which are readily available in many shops.  We were not going to allow the weather to ruin our plans.  We fought the crowds to peer into the Macy’s store windows.  The displays were cute but Erin was disappointed—she said they weren’t as good as last year.  We walked with the crowds in the rain and viewed other store windows.  We passed through Bryant Park with its crafts fair, Christmas tree, and ice rink.

Soon we reached Rockefeller Center and its well-known Christmas tree.  My first impression was that the area was much more compact than I had imagined.  There were hundreds of people and they were all trying to take pictures.  And it was still raining.  We got up to the railing for a view of the famous tree with the ice rink below, and we took our own photos.  Next, we walked past Saks Fifth Avenue to see their store windows.  At this point it was getting late and we were hungry.  Erin had located a Chinese restaurant in the area so after a little walk we found it.  We were glad to remove our wet outer garments and rest our feet in the warm restaurant.  The food came quickly and was delicious.  I should mention that Chinese food on Christmas Eve is a family tradition—it began when I was a child (no, we're not Jewish).

Satisfied, with full stomachs and leftovers, we pulled on our wet coats, hats, and gloves.  The rain had stopped.  We headed to Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church for their late Christmas Eve service, arriving early to get good seats and to hear the music.  I quietly removed my soggy shoes so my socks would dry.  The church is a beautiful old building built in 1875; the congregation is over 200 years old.  Dominating the front of the sanctuary stands a wonderful pipe organ.  Just before the service began, the choir filed in and stood in front of it.  This was a service of lessons and carols with an inspiring message delivered by the pastor.  It concluded with the lighting of candles.  What a beautiful way to usher in Christmas.

We emerged from the church to more light rain and we began to walk.  Erin still had more to show us (at 12:30 a.m.).  We passed by more lights, including the front of Radio City Music Hall.  Along the way a line of young boys, all dressed as Harry Potter, passed by us—we never figured out what that strange little procession was all about.  We ended up in Times Square.  Considering it was after 1 a.m. and nearly everything was closed, there were a fair number of people present.  A line had formed at McDonalds.  We descended into the subway and headed back to Erin’s apartment.  We stripped off our wet clothing and jumped into bed, extremely tired but content.  

                                         Merry Christmas!

Justice for All

This morning I watched the TV as President Barack Obama was inaugurated for his second term.  By noon I was standing inside the Idaho Statehouse for the Martin Luther King, Jr. / Idaho Human Rights Day State Ceremony.  The highlight was the Keynote Speaker, Rev. Percy “Happy” Watkins, who performed Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech.

I was struck by the similar themes—justice and equality—in President Obama’s speech and that of Martin Luther King, Jr.  Obama spoke about the little girl born into poverty having the same chance to succeed as any other American—because she is equal in the eyes of her fellow citizens.  King spoke of his dream that one day his young children would be judged not by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.  And, for the first time during an inaugural address, the President spoke of the need for equal rights for gays and lesbians, equating it to the women’s suffrage and civil rights movements.

Isn’t this what most Americans want our country to be?  A land of justice for all?  A country where no person is better than anyone else, where every person is equal?  Clearly, judging from our current politics, not everybody thinks this way.  However, in my heart I believe most Americans want to live in a country where justice reigns.  For me, as a Christian, this is important.  Accordingly, I will treat my fellow human being as equals and work for justice.  I hope my fellow citizens will do the same.

1/21/2013

Christmas in New York City—Day 4

On the afternoon of our fourth day in New York City, my husband, daughter, and I once again hopped onto the subway.  However, this time we rode the train for about an hour, from Brooklyn to the Bronx.  Our destination: the New York Botanical Garden to see the Holiday Train Show.  The last part of our ride was actually above ground, allowing us to see apartment building upon apartment building as we passed by.  Once we jumped off the train, we had to hustle because we had a certain time slot on our tickets.  It was a cold day so we were bundled up in coats, hats and gloves.  After walking a number of blocks, we ended up waiting in line with lots of other people inside the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory. 

                                   

The main focus of this train show is not actually the trains but the buildings which are replicas of historic New York City landmarks.  They are all made out of organic materials and they are amazing.  I took way too many pictures—I couldn’t help myself.  Trains ran along the ground and overhead across large suspension bridges, also made of organic materials.  Before our walk back to the train, we stopped at the café to warm ourselves with hot chocolate.

We rode the train to Grand Central Station and upon getting off we wound through tunnels, up and down stairs through the bowels of the subway—this was supposedly better than walking outside. We met my childhood friend and her husband at Hudson Place and enjoyed a wonderful dinner and visit.  They asked us if we’d seen Grand Central Station and we answered that we had only seen the underground.  Erin was told that she had to take us into the “grand” part of the station so that’s where we went next.  Entering the station with its high ceiling and ornate fixtures was like stepping back in time.

From Grand Central Station we took the train back to Brooklyn and to the Dyker Heights neighborhood, well known for its Christmas lights.  We walked several blocks, eventually joining others on foot or in cars who were also enjoying the light displays.  Finally, cold and tired, we made our way back to the subway and to Erin’s apartment.

Christmas in New York City—Day 3

Today was our day to visit the place where the money resides—Wall Street.  We strolled along the streets, visiting the New York Stock Exchange and the very popular statue of the bull—now sporting a Christmas wreath—where a line of people waited to take a photo with him.  Since it was another chilly day, we stopped at a Starbucks for hot drinks.

 

Now warmed, we headed to Battery Park and the waterfront.  The sun was low in the sky, presenting us with a silhouetted view of Lady Liberty.  We also had a view of Ellis Island.  Both areas were closed to the public due to damage from Hurricane Sandy.  From there we walked to the new World Trade Center still under construction and decorated with lights.

We walked some more before catching the subway to Times Square.  We discovered why Erin is so slim—she does a lot of walking, as do most New Yorkers.  In addition there are the stairs in the subway stations—you go up and down and up and down.  Good exercise.  And hard for older parents to keep up.  We emerged from the subway to the bright lights of Times Square and lots of people.  We enjoyed looking at the marquees of the various shows and seeing the ball that would be dropping soon.  Erin led us away from there to a small restaurant she had visited before with good food and fast service.  We returned to Times Square afterwards.

Earlier in the day we had bought discounted tickets for a Broadway musical—Mary Poppins.  We entered the ornate old theatre well ahead of time but had to wait to be seated.  We had good aisle seats on the main floor not too far back.  This musical was a favorite movie when I was a child and I knew all the words to the songs.  Some of the songs were new while some of the old ones had disappeared.  However, there were a number of the original songs remaining in the play and I was sorely tempted to sing along.  The tap number, “Step in Time,” performed by the chimney sweeps was great, a lot of fun.  In fact, the whole play was of lot of fun.  The actors were good, the sets creative, and the orchestra just right.  We emerged from the theatre with smiles on our faces.

On the way back to her apartment, Erin had us get off the train a bit early so we could walk the Brooklyn Promenade.  We had a great view of the Manhattan skyline at night.  I snapped a few photos but we didn’t stay long because it was getting cold.  We caught the subway in downtown Brooklyn and arrived back in Erin’s apartment quite late.

Christmas in New York City, Days 1 & 2

We stepped out of the door of Terminal 2 and immediately we heard it—the incessant honking of horns.  Ah, back in New York City.  We were there to celebrate Christmas with our younger daughter, Erin.  We climbed into a taxi which wound its way through traffic to her apartment in Brooklyn.

Our first outing was a walk of several blocks to the small local grocery store.  This is a transitional neighborhood consisting mostly of black Caribbeans but also of Hasidic Jews.  An interesting combination.  The grocery store aisles were tight and the selection was limited but we found everything we needed.  The vegetable section included some items we don’t usually see but the quality was poor.  Everything was carefully placed in Erin’s foldup cart and we trudged back up the hill. 

Winter is not the best time to see Central Park, but that’s when we were there.  The bare limbed trees, while not so pretty, do allow you to see the city skyline.  Bundled in warm coats, and wrapped in scarves, hats, and gloves to guard against the icy wind, we walked around one end of the park.  Horse drawn buggies were either empty or held passengers huddled under blankets.  We wound around one path and down some stairs into a tunnel to be serenaded by a violin and bass.  We lingered a while with others, thoroughly enjoying the beautiful notes which echoed off the walls of the tunnel.  Continuing along the path we encountered sculptures of Hans Christian Andersen reading “The Ugly Duckling” and the characters from Alice in Wonderland.  A bit further we encountered Cleopatra’s Needle, an obelisk with Egyptian hieroglyphs, which was built in Egypt then transported to Central Park in 1881.

By this time the wind had picked up and my nose was totally frozen.  My husband, daughter, and I decided it was time to head over to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, better known as the Met.  We all got the audio tour which was quite informative.  It was hard to know where to begin.  Erin led us to her favorite parts of the museum.  We viewed Greek and Roman Art, European painting, European Sculpture and Decorative Art, Arms and Armor, a special photography exhibition, part of the American Wing, and we breezed through African Arts and Egyptian Art.  The three of us also enjoyed the Christmas tree with the wonderful nativity scene beneath it.  We spent 5 hours there—more than we had planned but not nearly enough.  My favorites?  Van Gogh’s self-portrait and his landscapes, Monet, and Degas’ sculptures and paintings of dancers.  The Roman and Greek sculptures also fascinated me.

 

We hustled back to Brooklyn for a late dinner, very tired but glad for what we saw.

     

On Turning 60

How did it happen?

I really don’t feel that old

But the day arrived

I woke with the sun

With my normal aches and pains

Stumbled out of bed

Looked in the mirror

Peered at myself carefully

Do I look sixty?

It’s hard to deny

That I am now a senior

With all the good and bad

I’ll go out Tuesdays

To claim my senior discounts

And admit my age

The bad comes as well

Our nation prefers its youth

Not valuing us

To be unemployed

At age sixty is quite hard:

Discrimination

Wisdom comes with age

I have learned much through my years

Life is our teacher

Adventures still wait

For those open to new things

Seniors included

So I’ll take the hand

Of my age seventy husband

And see what life brings

No More

I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness and there is a knot in my stomach.  Not again.  Twenty little children shot to death in their classrooms along with teachers and their principal.  And this is the second shooting in a week—people were also killed in a shopping mall while doing their Christmas shopping.  My heart goes out to the community of Newtown, Connecticut; they are in my prayers.  I cannot imagine their pain.

This time, however, I have another overwhelming feeling.  It is anger.  All day I have watched as the news about this horrible tragedy unfolded.  I have read blogs and seen people’s comments on Facebook.  I saw that old worn-out statement “guns don’t kill people, people kill people.”  One person even suggested that the same thing would have happened if the gunman had a knife or even a piece of glass instead.  Seriously?  The guy had semi-automatic handguns.  Others posted that there was just nothing we can do about these things—there are crazy people in this world.  However, the overwhelming number of comments I read expressed what I am feeling—sadness and even outrage.

It is past time for us to sit down and talk about this.  How dare anybody say that there is nothing we can do to protect our children!  Do these pro-gun citizens feel that their guns are more important than the lives of our children?  This is a moral issue.  How can we stand by and do nothing?  We must look at gun control.  I’m not advocating taking away everybody’s guns.  But what individual needs an automatic weapon?  That’s just crazy.  We need to keep weapons out of the hands of the mentally ill.  And we absolutely must take a good look at how we care for our mentally ill citizens.  Many of them are not getting the medical care they need and their relatives’ hands are tied.  Politics needs to be set aside while our leaders work together for solutions, with input from all of us.  We need to do this now.  No more of this!

We Say Goodbye, Trusting Love

Today we said goodbye to you too soon

We were not ready to let you go

You came to us less than a year ago

And touched our hearts forever

We will miss your wisdom, your playful humor, your kindness

There was such intelligence behind those deep brown eyes

You lived a life of spiritual adventures

While becoming a medical miracle more than once

You met your life’s love and trusted love always

Then modeled it for all your world to see

You reached out in compassion and gave yourself freely

Although your body was often in such pain

Your passion drove our little team along

And now your absence leaves a giant hole

Today I heard you’d said one simply must be willing

So I’ll take your advice and try to carry on

Although you cannot ever be replaced

We’ll gather together and reach out in love

The holes in our hearts will gradually heal

But you will never be forgotten, my friend

I Am Thankful

As our Thanksgiving holiday weekend draws to an end, I have been reflecting on what I am thankful for in my life.

After a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner with friends, where I filled myself with more food than I needed, I am thankful that I have never been hungry.  There were times as a young adult when I had difficulty making enough to live on, but I always had family to help me out.  I realize that being grateful for this is not enough.  As a person with enough to eat, and as a Christian, I need to work for anti-hunger programs to ensure that others can eat, too, both here in this country and around the world.  There is enough food on this earth to feed everyone—the problem is distribution and politics.

I am thankful for relatively good health and I am thankful for health insurance.  I am so much more aware of my health after undergoing gall bladder surgery this past summer.  Suddenly my life became overwhelmed with medical tests and uncertainty.  The one thing I didn't have to worry about was paying medical bills since my insurance covered the vast majority of them.  What would I have done without insurance?  I am unemployed and my husband is retired.  I really don’t know—I think I might have postponed surgery and struggled along for a while.  Everybody deserves basic health care.  As citizens we must all work to improve access to health care and bring the costs down.

I am thankful for my church family which has become even more important since our biological family is far away.  We come together once a week or more to study, discuss, worship, and pray.  We share each other’s highs and lows, celebrating or lending support.  The love that moves among us brings me great joy.  Together we work to carry that love out into the world.

There are so many more things I could add to this list.  I was born in the U.S.A.—that makes me privileged.  I live a comfortable life and I am loved.  I have choices and opportunities that others in this world don’t have.  If I am truly thankful for my good life, I believe I should work for mercy and justice for the people in this world who are not so fortunate.

As the Color Fades

What a gloomy week this has been.  The sun decided to make an appearance on just one day.  While the temperatures have been mild, the weather has been damp.  The beautiful fall colors have turned to brown.  Most of the fallen leaves have been raked or mowed then spread on our garden.  Lonely, bare branches stretch to the sky as if searching for a ray of sunshine.  I am not quite ready for winter and the retreat to the indoors, but my stiff body demands warmth.  I look forward to one small pleasure before climbing in bed each night—sliding into the warm, soothing waters of our hot tub.  From there I can watch the rain fall and the branches sway in the cool breeze. . . and I smile from my place of comfort.

Time to Move On

Like most Americans, I am relieved that the election is finally over.  I was so tired of the political ads—so tired of the lies—so tired of the bickering.  Now it is time to move on.  Is that possible?  Can our Congress and our president work together to solve our country’s problems?  Can there be compromise?  If there isn’t, I’m afraid that the fiscal cliff won’t be the only cliff that we could fall off.

This country has become so divided.  Why?  I have heard a number of theories.  My answer, of course, is biased.  The Republican Party has moved further and further to the right.  It has been taken over by the religious right and the Tea Party.  For the Tea Party, it’s “my way or the highway”—no compromise.  Who knows what they really stand for; there are many different agendas.  The religious right seems to be all about judgment, forcing their views on others, and often hate.

While I have considered myself an independent for some time, I am more aligned with the Democratic Party.  The most extreme of this party can be just as intolerant and immoveable as the Republicans.  I don’t feel like the Democrats have moved further to the left—I do remember the 1960s after all.  Obama is considered more of a centrist, at least in some areas.  However, I have not seen an analysis of this.

Some Democrats are disdainful of religion.  However, there are many people who take a more progressive stand on issues because of their Christian beliefs.  I count myself among these Christians.  Jesus was a radical in his time—he would also be seen as a radical today if he were in human form.  Jesus condemned the self-righteous.  He emphasized that we should take care of the poor.  Jesus accepted the outcasts of his society.  My Christian beliefs lead me to work for social justice issues, like GLBT rights.  I don’t believe our national budget should be balanced on the backs of the poor.  I have worked for anti-hunger programs and I will continue to do so.  I strongly believe we need to work with people of other faiths to make a better country and a better world.  My political views are opposite those of fundamentalists; they don’t even consider me Christian.

I hope that we can all discover what we have in common.  There has been so much anger.  Conservatives are disappointed with the election results—this is understandable.  To move our country forward and solve our problems, we must ALL be willing to compromise.  That is what is required in a democracy.  Let’s hope we can save ours.

One Year of Unemployment

It has been one year since I lost my job—one whole year of unemployment.  I wonder if I shall ever be employed again.  It’s not that I’m bored—I can always find plenty to do.  Of course, money is an issue.  There is never enough of it.  Unemployment insurance ran out long ago.  We don’t live extravagantly and paying bills can be tough.  Our debt is higher than we ever imagined.

There is another aspect to being unemployed.  In this country you are what you do.  A person’s identity revolves around the job.  This has always been an issue for me, but being unemployed is the worst, I think.  It’s hard on the ego.  After a year of applying for jobs, it seems that nobody wants me.  What don’t they like?  I know my age is working against me—employers want younger people.  I think some employers are put off by my church experience; they have misconceptions about what it’s like to work for a church.  When I do get an interview, I do okay.  However, I am not a bubbly person but more quiet.  This is a negative for many employers.  The longer I am unemployed, the harder it is to get a job.  Employers prefer employed people.

I haven’t given up—I am still job hunting.  However, I am beginning to ignore jobs from employers who haven’t given me an interview in the past, even though I’m well qualified.  I am actually getting pickier.  Do I REALLY want this job?  I know I am a smart, competent woman.  I am a dedicated, hard worker.  I have received glowing reviews and compliments from former employers, coworkers, and others.  If only somebody would give me a chance. . .

A Day in Fall

The sun is out today.  Golden leaves still hang from the trees while others float to the ground.  Brown and gold leaves pile up on my deck, waiting for me.  Plump brown squirrels play chase through the leaves on the grass.  Magpies mingle, having their own conversations.  Summer is forgotten, fall is here, and the coming of winter hangs in the air.  I’m not sure I’m ready to give up the colors.