My greatest fear is growing old alone.
As I approach middle age with no sign of a husband, and therefore no chance for children - realizing that fear is a bit too close for comfort.
I shared this concern with my parish priest a few years ago. He told me that I should spend time visiting people in nursing homes.
I know he was right. What better way to walk right up to that fear and see what it looks like. It's something I always intended to do. But how do you go about volunteering at a nursing home? In a big city like this, it's a project just to find one! At one point, I made a list of homes to contact - but didn't manage to follow through.
Then a few months ago, our new parish priest asked for volunteers to bring the Holy Eucharist to a nursing home with which he has coordinated. I thought I'd go to the meeting and determine the level of commitment. When I got to the meeting, it was just me and one other person.
Here's your sign!
Guess who's volunteering.
Now for the past month, I've been going to the home, bringing the Eucharist to those who wish to receive, and enjoying chats with those who desire a visit.
I've met the most lovely people.
There is Betty, who is always so pleased to see me, and chat. She is always dressed with flair, hair done to perfection. She's quick with a smile and a laugh, happy to show me pictures of her departed husband - who looks to me like a real mogul! They had a good life together. I tell her they look like movie stars in their portrait. (and they do!)
Mary, who knows I'll indulge her lazy moods, and fetch her teeth and glasses so that we can have a nice talk, and laugh! She has a great sense of humor and takes my dry wit in stride. Ha. She matches me wit for wit! Together, we say ten Hail Marys and a Glory Be - and I know where two are gathered in His name, He is there.
There are others who don't remember me from visit to visit, due to dementia. But they are pleased to have a visitor who will go along with the story of the day. In that unit, you just go with the flow. Yes, I'm a flight attendant and I'll definitely enjoy my time in Denver, thank you. You're right, I should know that your son is a very important person in this company. I'll be sure he gets your message.
The very first time I brought the Eucharist to these sweet people, I was overcome with emotion. What a privilege. I know I'm bringing them something so very special - the greatest blessing on Earth.
But they are blessing me. With their smiles. With their presence. With the way they search my face looking for something familiar.
And each time they look for Christ in me... I hope they find some reflection of Him.
Yes, they bless me. So very much.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Beyond Ten Fold
It was almost a full year after my dad died, that I had my first dream about him.
I woke up happy, just to have the chance to visit with him.
Like most of my dreams, it didn't make much sense or seem very significant in the moment. It wasn't until I tried to describe it to someone else, that I understood the message.
My dad was a farmer for all of his 78 years. It was no surprise to see him in my dream, working on a tractor, fixing something. (As a farmer, my dad was a veterinarian, biologist, ecologist, mechanic, accountant and philosopher all rolled into one.) As he was working on the tractor he was excitedly telling me the good news about the price of corn. He was more excited than I had ever seen him in my life - a smile spread broadly across his face in the shadow of the bill of his feed cap.
No wonder. He told me that corn was selling for $100,000 per bushel! Wow!
In real life, any farmer would turn cartwheels in a stubble field at the sound of such figures! (for the uninitiated, corn typically sells from anywhere from 50 cents to $15 per bushel. Most typically around $3 - $5, if memory serves.)
As I dreamt it, I was just thrilled to be talking to Dad, and seeing him so happy. When I woke up, it struck me.
He wasn't talking about the price of corn, he was telling me about the riches of heaven. His message was that the riches of heaven were unbelievable. Beyond reason or comprehension.
He emphasized that anything we work for, or grow or nurture here on earth is worth 100,000 times more in heaven. Our work, our effort, our passion. God sees it all.
It's especially more poignant as I spoke with my mom back home. It's early July and the corn in the fields in Nebraska are burning up. Instead of the most vibrant green you can imagine, the leaves are yellow and brown, dying before your very eyes.
Even that news didn't suppress my cheer. Imagine... if you could gather just 10 bushels - you'd still be sitting pretty! (not in our earthly reality of course, only in the heavenly sense.)
I could not ask for a better visit! I really believe he was sharing the joy of salvation with me.
More remarkably, my niece told me that she dreamt about him that very same night! So he came to visit us both. I need to ask her what message he gave her, and maybe post it here with her permission.
I woke up happy, just to have the chance to visit with him.
Like most of my dreams, it didn't make much sense or seem very significant in the moment. It wasn't until I tried to describe it to someone else, that I understood the message.
My dad was a farmer for all of his 78 years. It was no surprise to see him in my dream, working on a tractor, fixing something. (As a farmer, my dad was a veterinarian, biologist, ecologist, mechanic, accountant and philosopher all rolled into one.) As he was working on the tractor he was excitedly telling me the good news about the price of corn. He was more excited than I had ever seen him in my life - a smile spread broadly across his face in the shadow of the bill of his feed cap.
No wonder. He told me that corn was selling for $100,000 per bushel! Wow!
In real life, any farmer would turn cartwheels in a stubble field at the sound of such figures! (for the uninitiated, corn typically sells from anywhere from 50 cents to $15 per bushel. Most typically around $3 - $5, if memory serves.)
As I dreamt it, I was just thrilled to be talking to Dad, and seeing him so happy. When I woke up, it struck me.
He wasn't talking about the price of corn, he was telling me about the riches of heaven. His message was that the riches of heaven were unbelievable. Beyond reason or comprehension.
He emphasized that anything we work for, or grow or nurture here on earth is worth 100,000 times more in heaven. Our work, our effort, our passion. God sees it all.
It's especially more poignant as I spoke with my mom back home. It's early July and the corn in the fields in Nebraska are burning up. Instead of the most vibrant green you can imagine, the leaves are yellow and brown, dying before your very eyes.
Even that news didn't suppress my cheer. Imagine... if you could gather just 10 bushels - you'd still be sitting pretty! (not in our earthly reality of course, only in the heavenly sense.)
I could not ask for a better visit! I really believe he was sharing the joy of salvation with me.
More remarkably, my niece told me that she dreamt about him that very same night! So he came to visit us both. I need to ask her what message he gave her, and maybe post it here with her permission.
Friday, February 3, 2012
When I Visit My Dealer
I have a furniture stalker.
Sounds weird doesn't it?
When I first moved into my condo, I decided to hold off getting any new furniture until I lived there for a while and had a feeling for what would really work in the space. I'm glad I did because I didn't really know my style at that time. Thanks to the first year of living here I realized that Mid-Century Modern suited my aesthetic the best.
This means I love furniture that is used. It's considered antique, but a lot of it is surprisingly reasonably priced. I've scoured antique stores and Cr@ig$li$t.
From one such ad, I found myself at the home of very lovely woman with some beautiful furniture. I learned that she shops estate sales as a hobby, buys beautiful pieces then fixes them, polishes them up and sells them for fun.
She finds pieces that match my taste exactly. All I just watch for her posts, and text her that I want to stop by! I just saw her this week, and because she has so many random customers... she had no idea who was turning up. When she opened her door, her face brightened and she exclaimed, "Hey, I know you!" and gave me a hug. I passed on the sofa this time... but we joked about how she knows she'll see me again.
"I'm your 'dealer'!", she joked.
"No, no... I tell everyone you're my furniture stalker! You stalk the furniture and I stalk you!"
If you think I'm sharing my source here, you're nuts!
Sounds weird doesn't it?
When I first moved into my condo, I decided to hold off getting any new furniture until I lived there for a while and had a feeling for what would really work in the space. I'm glad I did because I didn't really know my style at that time. Thanks to the first year of living here I realized that Mid-Century Modern suited my aesthetic the best.
This means I love furniture that is used. It's considered antique, but a lot of it is surprisingly reasonably priced. I've scoured antique stores and Cr@ig$li$t.
From one such ad, I found myself at the home of very lovely woman with some beautiful furniture. I learned that she shops estate sales as a hobby, buys beautiful pieces then fixes them, polishes them up and sells them for fun.
 |
| My dresser - procured from my furniture stalker! |
 |
| Not a matching set - but lovely nonetheless. |
She finds pieces that match my taste exactly. All I just watch for her posts, and text her that I want to stop by! I just saw her this week, and because she has so many random customers... she had no idea who was turning up. When she opened her door, her face brightened and she exclaimed, "Hey, I know you!" and gave me a hug. I passed on the sofa this time... but we joked about how she knows she'll see me again.
"I'm your 'dealer'!", she joked.
"No, no... I tell everyone you're my furniture stalker! You stalk the furniture and I stalk you!"
If you think I'm sharing my source here, you're nuts!
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