My father died right before Thanksgiving last year. I have been dreaming of him regularly since then. I sometimes wonder (not a theological question) if his presence beyond the physical realm is more powerful now than when he was fettered by his dementia.
The other night I had a vivid dream that I was in the hospital giving birth and it was footling breech. Alan Alda was my doctor (the older incarnation of Alan; he wasn't in uniform a la M*A*S*H!). Anyway, all these people from my family were there outside my room, sitting around eating cookies and drinking coffee. There were living members (like my mom and sister), and departed, like my dad and my two brothers, Craig and Randy. My uncles Barry and Wayne were there too. It was a veritable Spahr family reunion of men.
I specifically remember that in the dream, Randy got up and helped me into a more comfortable chair. And also, that my husband was already talking about having another baby, which I think might have made me dreamily murderous in the moment.
I've had so many intense and easily remembered dreams since the fire in June. Many of them include my dad. It's nice to feel that he's close, even if it's only in a dream state.
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
Spring cleaning
The semester is over. I'm on reduced hours at internship till mid-June. The kids have two more weeks of classes, and then things will really ease up. Today was the first day I was home in weeks, really. I had hoped to enlist all 4 kids to help with massive spring cleaning, but it was raining and cold, and the oldest two came down with a stomach bug last night, poor chooks.
So, I decided to dig in without them and started in my room. No laundry got put away or washed today, but my carpet is ripped out, furniture moved, walls washed down, floors vacuumed, my bathroom clean and baseboards scrubbed...some minor vacuuming and cleaning in the dining room and kitchen, but much more to come. I am so in love with my new-ish Kenmore canister vac!
I have also been cleansing my palate from classes. I got an A- in my Christian History class, and a Pass in Congregational Studies (I am assuming). I started doing some reading for July's Religious Ed class, which I'm really enjoying, but have been so busy with kid stuff at the end of the "school" year that I have barely had time to breathe! I would really like to spend a week vegging out to some TV episodes I've missed, but I'm anxious to get my house in order again - getting out warm weather clothes, giving away what's outgrown, and cleaning every last corner.
I've been thinking a lot about my dad and my brother. I was so overwhelmed when he died, with my dad's service, the cat getting hit and dying, and the basement flooding (and the truck dying...and issues with my ex)...that I am just now spring cleaning my heart. I didn't even send flowers to the funeral, I was so befuddled. Totally unlike me. I owe my SIL a call soon. I have been thinking about how losing my brother was in many ways like losing one of the few links I have left to my father. It was hard for me to bury my dad's ashes. I found some comfort in having them in my house. I have a small urn, but it's not the same. I still have his clothes and things to unpack this summer; Jude in particular is looking for a green and white polo shirt of my dad's that he wants and remembers.
All of these steps are ways to simplify the process of loss. I let go a little more each time I am able to grieve and cry. Each time I give away some clothing, or find a photo and enjoy it. And because my father had dementia, I feel that he is more present for me now, than he was in his last year. I am finding it harder to find ways to grieve my brother. I didn't know him as well as I might have liked, and really just started connecting with him the last 18 months. He was clearly a kind man, who seemed to really love children. He was extremely kind to my kids when we had lunch after my dad's service. I feel such sorrow for his teens, who must miss him dreadfully. I wish I knew them better too, so that we could more easily lean on one another in this time. And stupidly, I miss the damn cat. He was a big, fat, bossy thing, but I miss him plopping down on me, putting the pug in her place, and waiting in the sink for me to turn on the faucet.
All of these griefs have forgiveness in common. My father was human and left hurts behind him. My brother and I never resolved many things we wanted to talk about. The person who hit our cat leaves behind outrage. So, I was so grateful to be able to attend the Coming of Age/Wellspring service at my internship congregation yesterday, and to hear how members of my group had been touched by the work we did on Forgiveness. It was a moment of grace that I know I needed in my life. I have learned so much from the wise people in Wellspring this year. I can't wait to see what the future holds for all of us.
So, I decided to dig in without them and started in my room. No laundry got put away or washed today, but my carpet is ripped out, furniture moved, walls washed down, floors vacuumed, my bathroom clean and baseboards scrubbed...some minor vacuuming and cleaning in the dining room and kitchen, but much more to come. I am so in love with my new-ish Kenmore canister vac!
I have also been cleansing my palate from classes. I got an A- in my Christian History class, and a Pass in Congregational Studies (I am assuming
I've been thinking a lot about my dad and my brother. I was so overwhelmed when he died, with my dad's service, the cat getting hit and dying, and the basement flooding (and the truck dying...and issues with my ex)...that I am just now spring cleaning my heart. I didn't even send flowers to the funeral, I was so befuddled. Totally unlike me. I owe my SIL a call soon. I have been thinking about how losing my brother was in many ways like losing one of the few links I have left to my father. It was hard for me to bury my dad's ashes. I found some comfort in having them in my house. I have a small urn, but it's not the same. I still have his clothes and things to unpack this summer; Jude in particular is looking for a green and white polo shirt of my dad's that he wants and remembers.
All of these steps are ways to simplify the process of loss. I let go a little more each time I am able to grieve and cry. Each time I give away some clothing, or find a photo and enjoy it. And because my father had dementia, I feel that he is more present for me now, than he was in his last year. I am finding it harder to find ways to grieve my brother. I didn't know him as well as I might have liked, and really just started connecting with him the last 18 months. He was clearly a kind man, who seemed to really love children. He was extremely kind to my kids when we had lunch after my dad's service. I feel such sorrow for his teens, who must miss him dreadfully. I wish I knew them better too, so that we could more easily lean on one another in this time. And stupidly, I miss the damn cat. He was a big, fat, bossy thing, but I miss him plopping down on me, putting the pug in her place, and waiting in the sink for me to turn on the faucet.
All of these griefs have forgiveness in common. My father was human and left hurts behind him. My brother and I never resolved many things we wanted to talk about. The person who hit our cat leaves behind outrage. So, I was so grateful to be able to attend the Coming of Age/Wellspring service at my internship congregation yesterday, and to hear how members of my group had been touched by the work we did on Forgiveness. It was a moment of grace that I know I needed in my life. I have learned so much from the wise people in Wellspring this year. I can't wait to see what the future holds for all of us.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Living with Death
My father, George Spahr, Jr. died last Friday. When I woke up this morning, I found it difficult to believe that it will be a week tomorrow. It has all been a blur of phone calls, emails, arrangements, and a flood of feelings that would make Kubler-Ross proud.
My dad had been in assisted living/senior apartments/nursing home dementia care for most of the last 20 years, and for more than 10 of those years, I was his guardian and power of attorney. The last five years, he was in a dementia unit, where he couldn't wander off and get hurt or lost, and yet, he was the most "with it" patient there, and spent a lot of time on the other floors, doing activities and entertaining the staff.
On this Thanksgiving Day, I am incredibly grateful for the staff at Centre Crest, in Bellefonte, PA. The nurses and recreational therapists kept my father active, his brain stimulated, and appreciated (for the most part) his humor and flirting. I was so relieved to have him in a safe environment, where he was loved. The staff even took him home for holiday dinners, and helped him pick out small presents for my children and I each Christmas. The last two years have been increasingly difficult, as his mobility was more compromised, and I couldn't take him out as much, while trying to manage my two young children at the same time. I missed taking him to the People's Choice Festival, and to Memorial Day festivities in Boalsburg, PA, where I grew up.
I have so much gratitude and a pile of thank you notes to send out. I have dozens of notes and emails that I have filed in a folder to be answered when I am feeling ready; I have phone calls to return. I am blessed to have friends in my home town who hosted my family, provided a luncheon after the service (Thank you to Jane and Anne, and my mom), my uncle and aunt who drove from Brooklyn, NY to support me and honor my father's life, and my former minister, Rev. Mark Hayes from the UUFCC, who provided a lovely Celebration of Life.
The Heintzelman Funeral Home in State College was outstanding in their compassion, kindness and professionalism. I know it was a small service, but it meant the world to me, and they treated me with the same respect I believe they would have showed to the wealthiest family in town. Jan took care of every single detail, including getting my father's veteran's records, planning the eventual burial of my father's ashes in Manchester, PA, and handling everything with grace and delicacy. I cannot recommend them highly enough to anyone local to central PA. My husband has born the brunt of childcare and cooking for days now. He gracefully took care of the children during the planning of, and the services themselves. He has been in the background of every moment, bringing me coffee and plates of food and letting me sleep when I can. He has respected my private grief, and I have watched his own on his tired and drawn face. He has been right there, as was my mother, my sister, my dearest friends. I may not have acknowledged them in the moment, but their love has allowed me to do what needed to be done, and it now allows me to take this quiet time before I must get back to course work, internship and parenting.
Rev. Hayes read something (I have the book somewhere around, as he kindly gave me a copy for my personal and ministerial use) about Why? That this is the unanswerable question of death. I have not been sleeping well, waking in the middle of the night for hours. My friend Jane counseled me to consider this time a gift - a time of quiet reflection away from the business of the day - and I've been trying to see it that way. These late night times have given me some space to grieve in the whirlwind of the last week. Our culture does not give us a lot of time, but I have had what I'm sure are the same feelings and thoughts of many people who have dealt with death and grief, as we all must.
This is getting long, so I will write more in another post - I process and learn through writing, and it's easier for me to deal with logistics and facts at first, and then make room for the feelings. I've had good advice from friends - make time to grieve now, while the world gives you space. Be prepared for it to be even worse in a year. One thing ministry has taught me is to take care of myself - all those people screaming self-care at me have been heard. I have turned off the phone, filed the notes and emails, and have gone into a private time.
I know my dad is gone, but I can't really believe it. I miss him.
My dad had been in assisted living/senior apartments/nursing home dementia care for most of the last 20 years, and for more than 10 of those years, I was his guardian and power of attorney. The last five years, he was in a dementia unit, where he couldn't wander off and get hurt or lost, and yet, he was the most "with it" patient there, and spent a lot of time on the other floors, doing activities and entertaining the staff.
On this Thanksgiving Day, I am incredibly grateful for the staff at Centre Crest, in Bellefonte, PA. The nurses and recreational therapists kept my father active, his brain stimulated, and appreciated (for the most part) his humor and flirting. I was so relieved to have him in a safe environment, where he was loved. The staff even took him home for holiday dinners, and helped him pick out small presents for my children and I each Christmas. The last two years have been increasingly difficult, as his mobility was more compromised, and I couldn't take him out as much, while trying to manage my two young children at the same time. I missed taking him to the People's Choice Festival, and to Memorial Day festivities in Boalsburg, PA, where I grew up.
I have so much gratitude and a pile of thank you notes to send out. I have dozens of notes and emails that I have filed in a folder to be answered when I am feeling ready; I have phone calls to return. I am blessed to have friends in my home town who hosted my family, provided a luncheon after the service (Thank you to Jane and Anne, and my mom), my uncle and aunt who drove from Brooklyn, NY to support me and honor my father's life, and my former minister, Rev. Mark Hayes from the UUFCC, who provided a lovely Celebration of Life.
The Heintzelman Funeral Home in State College was outstanding in their compassion, kindness and professionalism. I know it was a small service, but it meant the world to me, and they treated me with the same respect I believe they would have showed to the wealthiest family in town. Jan took care of every single detail, including getting my father's veteran's records, planning the eventual burial of my father's ashes in Manchester, PA, and handling everything with grace and delicacy. I cannot recommend them highly enough to anyone local to central PA. My husband has born the brunt of childcare and cooking for days now. He gracefully took care of the children during the planning of, and the services themselves. He has been in the background of every moment, bringing me coffee and plates of food and letting me sleep when I can. He has respected my private grief, and I have watched his own on his tired and drawn face. He has been right there, as was my mother, my sister, my dearest friends. I may not have acknowledged them in the moment, but their love has allowed me to do what needed to be done, and it now allows me to take this quiet time before I must get back to course work, internship and parenting.
Rev. Hayes read something (I have the book somewhere around, as he kindly gave me a copy for my personal and ministerial use) about Why? That this is the unanswerable question of death. I have not been sleeping well, waking in the middle of the night for hours. My friend Jane counseled me to consider this time a gift - a time of quiet reflection away from the business of the day - and I've been trying to see it that way. These late night times have given me some space to grieve in the whirlwind of the last week. Our culture does not give us a lot of time, but I have had what I'm sure are the same feelings and thoughts of many people who have dealt with death and grief, as we all must.
This is getting long, so I will write more in another post - I process and learn through writing, and it's easier for me to deal with logistics and facts at first, and then make room for the feelings. I've had good advice from friends - make time to grieve now, while the world gives you space. Be prepared for it to be even worse in a year. One thing ministry has taught me is to take care of myself - all those people screaming self-care at me have been heard. I have turned off the phone, filed the notes and emails, and have gone into a private time.
I know my dad is gone, but I can't really believe it. I miss him.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Good news! (and some tragic)
I have been a bit at a standstill this semester, trying to figure out my congregational and leadership studies (aka internship) for my 2nd and 3rd year. I can't do it at my home congregation and in the deal worked out with the MFC, the teaching pastor has to be in final fellowship and settled for at least 3 years. That left me with ONE church in my area, as I discovered as I looked at my options. I thought I had a teaching pastor for this year (someone to discuss theological issues and academic questions, etc. once a month). I had a minister commit and then back out.
Anyway, today I got ahold of my one possibility- I had emailed her a month ago, and followed up with another email and a phone message and was getting very worried that she was going to say no way Jose. Well, today, with much persistence (and some kindly help from her compassionate and sweet office person),I connected with my new teaching pastor!
We had a lovely conversation, are going to start meeting monthly in January when I return from intensives and I will be doing two years of part-time internship with her starting next September! I actually jumped up and down and yelled Yippeeeee! in the parking lot of my kids' homeschool Waldorf program after I hung up the phone!
Rev. W. seems very nice and was apologetic about the long delay - she was away for UUMC and then the holiday and...well, just busy, as ministers are. We had a lovely conversation and I can't wait to get the paperwork in place and official!
In not so good news (not personally), a congregant at my church was murdered last night. Her husband was arraigned on 2nd degree murder today. It is such a tragic and unexpected story. They were members for years and she was a beloved member of the choir. The church is holding a vigil tomorrow evening. This, after the death of a co-worker's spouse 2 weeks ago, and the serious illness of another very active congregant, is all very sad and stressful this time of year.
My ministers look very tired and sad. Our married co-ministers have also had a very difficult summer with family illness, and this is just exhausting. I would like to do something nice for them. Any suggestions? (that doesn't cost money?)
Anyway, today I got ahold of my one possibility- I had emailed her a month ago, and followed up with another email and a phone message and was getting very worried that she was going to say no way Jose. Well, today, with much persistence (and some kindly help from her compassionate and sweet office person),I connected with my new teaching pastor!
We had a lovely conversation, are going to start meeting monthly in January when I return from intensives and I will be doing two years of part-time internship with her starting next September! I actually jumped up and down and yelled Yippeeeee! in the parking lot of my kids' homeschool Waldorf program after I hung up the phone!
Rev. W. seems very nice and was apologetic about the long delay - she was away for UUMC and then the holiday and...well, just busy, as ministers are. We had a lovely conversation and I can't wait to get the paperwork in place and official!
In not so good news (not personally), a congregant at my church was murdered last night. Her husband was arraigned on 2nd degree murder today. It is such a tragic and unexpected story. They were members for years and she was a beloved member of the choir. The church is holding a vigil tomorrow evening. This, after the death of a co-worker's spouse 2 weeks ago, and the serious illness of another very active congregant, is all very sad and stressful this time of year.
My ministers look very tired and sad. Our married co-ministers have also had a very difficult summer with family illness, and this is just exhausting. I would like to do something nice for them. Any suggestions? (that doesn't cost money?)
Sunday, May 10, 2009
A predictable MD post
I have dreaded Mother's Day for years. All of those Hallmark cards? They don't make one for my mother. It took me some deep breaths and my finger on the "Talk" button for some minutes, before I could call her today. There was the annual guilt trip about me not being there, but there was also sadness for her lost eyebrows; the chemo is starting to cause side effects besides nausea and diabetes flare ups.
Our friend Anne died yesterday afternoon. I'm sure her daughter's Mother's Days will be bittersweet from here on out. I think it's true though, what we say. To live in hearts that love is not to die.
My children made Mother's Day hectic and wonderful. I'm so grateful for them. Emma (13) saw me ogling a pair of earrings at the Lilac Festival yesterday and presented them in an adorable box. Soren (10) made a really cool box and made matching earrings and a bracelet for me from silver and beads. Jude and Lucy were just themselves and wonderful. My husband sent Emma and I shopping for several hours; Emma needed summer clothes and he insisted I buy myself something.
We went to Plato's closet and found fun stuff and had a wonderfully mother/daughter afternoon. It was fabulous and Emma had a blast. Sadly, her day ended badly when she found a worm in her steamed artichoke at dinner. Thankfully she didn't eat it, but ... ewwww. She must have been saved by the karma of saving an inchworm that blew onto my windshield yesterday while I was driving; Soren hopped out at a stop sign and rescued him so he didn't get squished by my wipers.
My friend Karen is on her way here and I have a box of chocolates for her; she's lucky I haven't raided it yet ;).
P.S. Hubby and I both got a chance to see Emma's performance in Ulysses: A Unitarian Odyssey. It was funny and sweet and fabulous! I hope they video taped it. It was great fun! I was so grateful we each got to a performance of it. Things will start to wind down in the next couple of weeks and I can't wait!
Our friend Anne died yesterday afternoon. I'm sure her daughter's Mother's Days will be bittersweet from here on out. I think it's true though, what we say. To live in hearts that love is not to die.
My children made Mother's Day hectic and wonderful. I'm so grateful for them. Emma (13) saw me ogling a pair of earrings at the Lilac Festival yesterday and presented them in an adorable box. Soren (10) made a really cool box and made matching earrings and a bracelet for me from silver and beads. Jude and Lucy were just themselves and wonderful. My husband sent Emma and I shopping for several hours; Emma needed summer clothes and he insisted I buy myself something.
We went to Plato's closet and found fun stuff and had a wonderfully mother/daughter afternoon. It was fabulous and Emma had a blast. Sadly, her day ended badly when she found a worm in her steamed artichoke at dinner. Thankfully she didn't eat it, but ... ewwww. She must have been saved by the karma of saving an inchworm that blew onto my windshield yesterday while I was driving; Soren hopped out at a stop sign and rescued him so he didn't get squished by my wipers.
My friend Karen is on her way here and I have a box of chocolates for her; she's lucky I haven't raided it yet ;).
P.S. Hubby and I both got a chance to see Emma's performance in Ulysses: A Unitarian Odyssey. It was funny and sweet and fabulous! I hope they video taped it. It was great fun! I was so grateful we each got to a performance of it. Things will start to wind down in the next couple of weeks and I can't wait!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Birth to death and everything in between
So Sunday I taught Sunday School, then went to a birth, then yesterday drove to PA for a Celebration of Life for my former brother-in-law. I drove back home today. I'm exhausted and have accomplished nothing today, except saving my husband from our new mouser kitties, who didn't want to get out of the truck when he got them home.
He also brought home tons of bread. He is working with a semi-homeless person who keeps giving us bread from the soup kitchen, which honestly, is very welcome.
So the service was nice. I got to see a lot of David's family that I haven't seen in several years. His one aunt and uncle are Born Again Christians and the look on his aunt's face when I told her I was going to seminary to become a parish minister was....priceless. She considered (s?) David and I to be Godless heathens (oh, and we're liberal to boot), and I'm sure she thought I must be planning to minister to some satanic cult. I sealed the deal by referencing God as often as possible (after all, I have God, it's just different than it might be for her). I wasn't being malicious, but it was amusing to see her inability to see me in that role. I even mentioned that I could see how I seemed an unlikely candidate. It is still affording me considerable amusement.
I had a nice chat with David's dad, and my mother went and was mostly on her best behavior. David's sister mentioned her gratitude for me bringing the girls multiple times, which was nice; our last interactions were rather fraught with tension. There were some wonderful pictures of Mark, which I had seen before, but it was touching to see them all in one place. It is strange to be ex-family. I knew all those people and had broken bread with them, and knew which picture was David's favorite. But five years has made it really really good to spend time with them, and to remember Mark together.
It's so good to be home. I had a lovely girl-to-girl chat with my hostess last night (an old friend), and slept poorly because Lucy kicked me all night. Tomorrow is another full day - I'm not sure when I will get the laundry caught up.
I am really, really exhausted, which may explain the incoherence of this post, but one last thing - the cats. Tom has been working for this woman who helps people out and restores urban houses that are in bad shape, and some guy ended up moving his cats in, but not himself and then left them there for two months, and kept calling every day to say he was having dreams about them and to check on them, but didn't bring them food or anything ;). So she gave him a date to get them out by and he didn't, so Tom brought them here, because we need mousers, and they've been together forever (I only wanted one cat), and they're parked under my bed. They don't like Tom much, because they both scratched him, and the old one ran off behind the house, but came to me right away.
Oh, and one last thing. I had an interview yesterday morning before I left, for a case management position and it went really, really well. But it would really make homeschooling activities a challenge, and the money sucks. I know I would love it though...but I think I'll hold out for something part-time...or maybe they hated me!
He also brought home tons of bread. He is working with a semi-homeless person who keeps giving us bread from the soup kitchen, which honestly, is very welcome.
So the service was nice. I got to see a lot of David's family that I haven't seen in several years. His one aunt and uncle are Born Again Christians and the look on his aunt's face when I told her I was going to seminary to become a parish minister was....priceless. She considered (s?) David and I to be Godless heathens (oh, and we're liberal to boot), and I'm sure she thought I must be planning to minister to some satanic cult. I sealed the deal by referencing God as often as possible (after all, I have God, it's just different than it might be for her). I wasn't being malicious, but it was amusing to see her inability to see me in that role. I even mentioned that I could see how I seemed an unlikely candidate. It is still affording me considerable amusement.
I had a nice chat with David's dad, and my mother went and was mostly on her best behavior. David's sister mentioned her gratitude for me bringing the girls multiple times, which was nice; our last interactions were rather fraught with tension. There were some wonderful pictures of Mark, which I had seen before, but it was touching to see them all in one place. It is strange to be ex-family. I knew all those people and had broken bread with them, and knew which picture was David's favorite. But five years has made it really really good to spend time with them, and to remember Mark together.
It's so good to be home. I had a lovely girl-to-girl chat with my hostess last night (an old friend), and slept poorly because Lucy kicked me all night. Tomorrow is another full day - I'm not sure when I will get the laundry caught up.
I am really, really exhausted, which may explain the incoherence of this post, but one last thing - the cats. Tom has been working for this woman who helps people out and restores urban houses that are in bad shape, and some guy ended up moving his cats in, but not himself and then left them there for two months, and kept calling every day to say he was having dreams about them and to check on them, but didn't bring them food or anything ;). So she gave him a date to get them out by and he didn't, so Tom brought them here, because we need mousers, and they've been together forever (I only wanted one cat), and they're parked under my bed. They don't like Tom much, because they both scratched him, and the old one ran off behind the house, but came to me right away.
Oh, and one last thing. I had an interview yesterday morning before I left, for a case management position and it went really, really well. But it would really make homeschooling activities a challenge, and the money sucks. I know I would love it though...but I think I'll hold out for something part-time...or maybe they hated me!
Thursday, February 5, 2009
A Quick Loss
My former brother-in-law, Mark, passed away last night. He was diagnosed with aggressive cancer on Friday or thereabouts last week, and the weeks or months we thought he might have quickly turned into days and hours.
My ex-husband was there with him, which I'm sure was a comfort to him. My heart goes out to the entire family, most especially David's dad. My daughters are quite sad - they can empathize with the idea of losing a sibling.
I went to bed feeling quite clear about the fragility of life and grateful for my family. I had a lot of other profound thoughts, but am experiencing pre-morning-coffee fuzziness and being harrassed to immediately prepare breakfast.
Regardless, prayers for Mark and family are constantly in my thoughts.
My ex-husband was there with him, which I'm sure was a comfort to him. My heart goes out to the entire family, most especially David's dad. My daughters are quite sad - they can empathize with the idea of losing a sibling.
I went to bed feeling quite clear about the fragility of life and grateful for my family. I had a lot of other profound thoughts, but am experiencing pre-morning-coffee fuzziness and being harrassed to immediately prepare breakfast.
Regardless, prayers for Mark and family are constantly in my thoughts.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Slogging through
This personal growth stuff is a drag sometimes, lemme tell ya. I keep growing, and then I am happy at my progress, and then dontcha know, I find out that no matter how much I have grown, I have more, and more, and more...it's exhausting.
I had a productive meeting with my spiritual advisor this morning. I'd missed her, as we had a long break over the holidays. Thanks (I think I want to thank him, and not kick him) to David Markham at UU a Way of Life for turning me on to a book on Borderlines which my sister sent me, I have been having a huge paradigm shift, which incidentially, is related to a lot of stuff I was already working on as part of the paradigm shift of having a ministerial vocation.
I was really, really pissed off that nobody ever put a name to what she is before. Not who she is, but what she is. One thing that I struggle with in some of my relationships, especially with my children, and with people I have a hard time dealing with, I am really good at underreaction. Now I know why. So in addition to working on judgement vs. judgmentalism, I'm also working on accessing true compassion when I'm triggered by what I see as ingenuine drama in a situation. And I'm working on accessing compassion for my parents, both of them. I'd already been working on it, but now I have a different paradigm from which to work with.
I swear, I whipped through that book in two days, and I think I underlined most of the introductory chapters, and most of the three sections that described my mother and father, and was relieved to see that I had already accomplished most of the coping mechanisms described. And I was also able to shed new light on the progression of my mother's illness in her behavior and in her relationships to my sister and I, and the rest of her family. I'll never know what caused it...I have my suspicions, but no proof.
But here I am, with a new piece of the puzzle, trying to figure out where it goes, but knowing that because there are mysterious connections in the world, the feedback I've recently been given about compassion and judgment are connected to me being given the gift of knowing that there is a word for what ails my mother, and that my sister and I are not alone, or crazy.
I also had a really good talk with my advisor about my thoughts on abortion, and how it relates to the first principal, and how that is a conflict for some; and about the ethics of euthanasia - both animal and human. And about dealing with death and pastoral care and ... well, we had a really great hour that crammed a lot of stuff into it.
And today has been a blur - no hot water because the propane ran out, cold, snowy, two trips to the city, nothing to make for dinner...I'm heading to get the hot shower I deserve, then to do the dishes from yesterday, and finally to sit down with a cuppa hot cocoa and snuggle with my husband when he gets home! Lucky for him, he's been the recipient of most of my compassionate practice in recent months ;)
I had a productive meeting with my spiritual advisor this morning. I'd missed her, as we had a long break over the holidays. Thanks (I think I want to thank him, and not kick him
I was really, really pissed off that nobody ever put a name to what she is before. Not who she is, but what she is. One thing that I struggle with in some of my relationships, especially with my children, and with people I have a hard time dealing with, I am really good at underreaction. Now I know why. So in addition to working on judgement vs. judgmentalism, I'm also working on accessing true compassion when I'm triggered by what I see as ingenuine drama in a situation. And I'm working on accessing compassion for my parents, both of them. I'd already been working on it, but now I have a different paradigm from which to work with.
I swear, I whipped through that book in two days, and I think I underlined most of the introductory chapters, and most of the three sections that described my mother and father, and was relieved to see that I had already accomplished most of the coping mechanisms described. And I was also able to shed new light on the progression of my mother's illness in her behavior and in her relationships to my sister and I, and the rest of her family. I'll never know what caused it...I have my suspicions, but no proof.
But here I am, with a new piece of the puzzle, trying to figure out where it goes, but knowing that because there are mysterious connections in the world, the feedback I've recently been given about compassion and judgment are connected to me being given the gift of knowing that there is a word for what ails my mother, and that my sister and I are not alone, or crazy.
I also had a really good talk with my advisor about my thoughts on abortion, and how it relates to the first principal, and how that is a conflict for some; and about the ethics of euthanasia - both animal and human. And about dealing with death and pastoral care and ... well, we had a really great hour that crammed a lot of stuff into it.
And today has been a blur - no hot water because the propane ran out, cold, snowy, two trips to the city, nothing to make for dinner...I'm heading to get the hot shower I deserve, then to do the dishes from yesterday, and finally to sit down with a cuppa hot cocoa and snuggle with my husband when he gets home! Lucky for him, he's been the recipient of most of my compassionate practice in recent months ;)
Monday, January 5, 2009
Unitarian Christianity, dignity and worth, and death
I don't have time to discuss in depth this moment, but I am reading Channing's sermon on the topic and am filled with humility. It's stunning to me that ministers preached like this to their congregations, not so long ago. And the courage to stand up in a predominately Christian culture and proclaim such things, to me rivals the courage of those who stood against Calvin. For sure, Channing probably doesn't fear being executed for his views, but there are certainly potentional serious repercussions.
Very powerful stuff. A good way to start the day.
Penguin hung on through the night and is in X-Ray right now; I am waiting for a call back. He's doing poorly, so I doubt it will end well, but I feel that we made the right decision to let him fight.
I've been struggling with both ends of life, and death this week. My friend and I had a deep and loving discussion about our different views on abortion. One reason she will not return to the UU church is because she abhors it's support for abortion rights, and feels that it goes against the principle of the inherent worth and dignity of every person - both because, most especially in late-term abortions, the unborn is often viable, and in the sense that in her mind, it allows women to accept the murders of such viable life in a horrific fashion. She presented this argument in a way that I have never been touched before by the tenets of pro-life argument, and I am still struggling with it. Granted, we all have our personal experiences that inform us in these beliefs, and hers and mine have been quite different, but I have had a new vista of belief and thought opened up to me.
On the other end of life, I was standing with the vet yesterday and felt a moral and spiritual difficulty with the choice to euthanize. I do understand that Penguin is not a person... but as a part of our family, he is afforded some dignity and worth. I think it's about choice on some level. I believe that the terminally ill, with free will, should be able to choose to die when their quality of life, in their own view, has exhausted itself. But how can I make that choice for another, even a cat, whose will to live continues to burn so strongly that he survived hours beyond what we thought he could. I would have been playing God and I could have been right, or wrong. I won't know ever. But I suspect I'll be asked again within the hour to play "God," and I don't know what to do.
Very powerful stuff. A good way to start the day.
Penguin hung on through the night and is in X-Ray right now; I am waiting for a call back. He's doing poorly, so I doubt it will end well, but I feel that we made the right decision to let him fight.
I've been struggling with both ends of life, and death this week. My friend and I had a deep and loving discussion about our different views on abortion. One reason she will not return to the UU church is because she abhors it's support for abortion rights, and feels that it goes against the principle of the inherent worth and dignity of every person - both because, most especially in late-term abortions, the unborn is often viable, and in the sense that in her mind, it allows women to accept the murders of such viable life in a horrific fashion. She presented this argument in a way that I have never been touched before by the tenets of pro-life argument, and I am still struggling with it. Granted, we all have our personal experiences that inform us in these beliefs, and hers and mine have been quite different, but I have had a new vista of belief and thought opened up to me.
On the other end of life, I was standing with the vet yesterday and felt a moral and spiritual difficulty with the choice to euthanize. I do understand that Penguin is not a person... but as a part of our family, he is afforded some dignity and worth. I think it's about choice on some level. I believe that the terminally ill, with free will, should be able to choose to die when their quality of life, in their own view, has exhausted itself. But how can I make that choice for another, even a cat, whose will to live continues to burn so strongly that he survived hours beyond what we thought he could. I would have been playing God and I could have been right, or wrong. I won't know ever. But I suspect I'll be asked again within the hour to play "God," and I don't know what to do.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Local Home Funeral Experiences
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