Our Thoughts are With Those Who Mourn Their Dead . . .

A hundred years from now it will not matter

what my bank account was,

the sort of house I lived in,

or the kind of car I drove.

But the world may be different because

I was important in the life of a child.

Life as many know it ended Friday morning, before 10:00 AM, in Newtown, CT,

when a troubled young man, who had already murdered his mother in her sleep,

drove to the Sandy Hook Elementary School, and there he managed to get past the

initial entry barriers and within 10 minutes of entering the school, had shot and killed the 

principal, the school psychologist, and turned his bushmaster rifle on the teachers and 

children in two of the school rooms.

Now families, communities, and the entire nation is still trying to "wrap our minds around" the reality of this level of violence, the horror that so many children witnessed, the

sense that over 550 children experienced that their lives were no longer safe.  Vigils,

prayer services, community gatherings, family assemblies, and now 28 funerals will be held

in and around Newtown, CT--20 children, six teachers & school administrators, one mother 

and her son, the shooter.

I can only add  my voice to those who are mourning the senseless deaths that have marred the American consciousness, remembering that not only Newtown residents are in mourning, but there are those who were terrorized in Clackamus, OR just two days before this school shooting.  We remember those in Aurora, CO, in Oklahoma City, OK, in Newport Beach, CA, and all the communities in the United States where 24,000 kids have died in the past two years.  And reflecting on the words of the President of the United States, have we done enough to keep our children safe?  And if we have not done so, why not?

It is these thoughts that keep circulating through my mind today, and I felt I needed to express my anger that any child dies, whether s(he) is sitting in a school room, or playing in front of the house when someone starts shooting from a car that is driving past that location. That same anger sizzles and pops in my heart over the abuse children suffer, at those who drink up or spend grocery money on drugs, rather than feed their kids.  

We will never solve all the problems of the world, and there is no law or set of laws that will eradicate evil from the world.  But reasonable people make reasonable laws so that there is a reasonable expectation that our children will be safe to grow up and reach adulthood in pursuit of a meaningful life.  Just as each of us has individual choice about the aspects of our own lives, so we as a nation make choices of what we want to be the factors of American life.  Are our guns, especially those military-type assault weapons, so necessary to us, so precious to us as a society that we just have to have them?  Are we willing to put the safety of any of our citizens, especially our children, at stake in order to satisfy our lust for violence?

These are questions we all have answer, and it doesn't appear that there is any better time than now.

Requiem Eterna et Lux Perpetua . . . September 11 thoughts

At the site of the World Trade Center, eight of the 16 acres have been converted into a memorial to remind visitors of the past and give hope to the future. The memorial is continuing to grow but currently includes twin pools in the place where the Twin Towers once stood, with the names of every person who died in the terrorist attacks inscribed in bronze. The museum is a growing collection of photos, video, materials and artifacts from that fateful 9-11 day.

There is no doubt in my own mind that this day, like December 7, 1941, is, in the words of President Franklin D. Roosevelt, " . . . a day that shall live in infamy."  It is almost impossible to believe that it has been 11 years since that awful day, and as I have been watching some of the 9/11 documentaries about people who managed to get out of the towers and testimonies from families whose loved ones died, both in New York as well as in Pennsylvania and at the Pentagon, I am struck anew at how much grieving is still going on in our country over this terrible catastrophy.  I have also thought often about those individuals who left home that morning, perhaps there was a family disagreement, a fight with one of the kids over homework or going to a friend's house, perhaps a husband and wife who were having problems or who had hurtful words over money or mothers-in-law or their unpredictable teenage kids.  I think often that these people have an additional burden to bear--knowing that the last words spoken between them and their loved one(s) was in anger or frustration.

It is another reminder that none of us knows what will come upon us, where we will find ourselves, what may happen that is both positive or negative each day.  We start out feeling pretty good about stuff, but by the time we "lay it down" that night we are so glad that particular day is over.  But I think September 11, 2001, is another graphic reminder--as if all of us hasn't already had way too many of those--that we daren't leave our spouses, our kids, those who are important to us without a word of praise, of encouragement, of love, of a sense that they are truly as important to us as we know in our hearts.  I have gone to so many funerals where families have been "stuck" because of not being given just one more chance to tell their loved one that they were loved and cherished.  

This day is also another reminder how quickly such catastrophic events begin to fade into our longterm memory.  The week the towers and the Pentagon were attacked and the plane went down in a pasture in Pennsylvania, families were getting together, community groups gathered in public parks, churches, synagogues and all kinds of worship centers were filled with people whose hearts were stunned, whose minds still couldn't even imagine such a thing occurring.  Yet here we are over a decade later, and the day passes without a whole lot of notice by thousands who are going on about their day.  Hopefully many of us paused for a moment of holy remembrance, of sending good thoughts and perhaps prayers toward those whose hearts are still grieving at some level, some worse than others.  And I want to end this with the ages old prayer that has been quoted in both word and music in honor of those whose lives were lost that day:

Eternal rest grant them, O Lord, 

And perpetual light shine upon them.

In your mercy bring them into the glory of your presence.

And may the souls of all the faithful departed rest in peace.  Amen.

Back Up Ten And Punt: When Things Get Hairy in the Locker Room

I guess having lived for decades with a high school sports coach and having a son who is a football coach has finally rubbed off on me. If you don't believe me, then you'll probably have trouble believing that one of my thrills at being in Chicago recently was seeing Soldier's Field--the venue where the Chicago Bears play. I have heard about, been party to, and had my entire weekend taken over by sports, namely football. In the days when thee was only a single 13" TV in our living room, the kids and I got lots of other stuff done. Dad, of course, had taken over the TV for the entire weekend.

Most recently I have been shamed and saddened by the happenings at Penn State--the hurt that was revealed after being covered up for 13 years and the fall-out that is affecting the university now. I am most ashamed when I hear commentators speaking about the great damage done that day for Penn State. Oh Hello!! The hurt happened years ago and it wasn't just to the university. The loss of a beloved coach has to feel harsh and is difficult for lots of people the consider that such an action to fire Joe Paterno and the college president has to make lots and lots of students and alumni very upset. I know this is a hot button issue and I'll probably get scalded for my writing about it, but I am upset about lots of stuff pertaining to this situation.

First, I realize that Mr Paterno reported the illegal activity to the Athletic Director in the late 90's, but my understanding is that at the time Pennsyvania had a mandatory reporting law. That means that the coach had an obligation to report the information received to the law enforcement officials. That's not what happened. And perhaps the greatest sadness about this entire affair, apart from the damage done to the victims, is that Joe Paterno decided to protect his legend instead of making sure that a staff member was prevented from doing any harm to more youngsters. I know that sounds harsh and judgmental, but when people begin to believe their publicity and allow their public persona to be what they protect instead of seeking justice for those young boys, then there is something seriously wrong. I also know that college football is a force with which to be contended in our society and that influence is supported by millions of dollars worth of TV exposure, the whole NFL scouting machine, and the flow of those media dollars into the coffers of university and college athletic programs. And as beloved as Coach Paterno may be to the Penn State students and alumni, he became a part of the cover-up as soon as he opted out of his mandated reporting responsibilities.

This situation, like many others of the same kind, are full of wounding and scalding sadness--not only for the victims, but for lots of friendships and relationships that get caught up in and ground to powder by the the inevitable fall-out that will happen sooner or later. For those victims, it is justice long delayed. For the coaching staff and college administration it is a powerful wake-up call to honesty and transparency. Strangely enough, I am impelled to send prayers to everyone that will be ultimately touched by this tragedy. No matter how grand the football aura may be, no matter how legendary the coach, the sanctity of and respect for the human person of any age, much less a child, can never take second place.

Whew!! I Made It Home In One Piece

Can you believe it? Rain in Los Angeles? Lots of rain in Los Angeles? Well, I'm here to tell you we had buckets of rain on Wednesday, and as usual, the LA drivers took that as a sign that it was a good day to drive even faster than normal. On my way home from a hotel near the Los Angeles airport where I was reading ordination exams for our denomination, the freeway was crowded, as always. But wonder of wonders, the traffic moved along fairly well . . . UNTIL . . . I got closer to home, nearly to the junction between Fwy 5 and 14, and everything came to a stop!! It took two hours to go about 3-1/2 miles -- two accidents were on the side of the freeway only about 400 yards apart. So in addition to the emergency vehicles weaving in and out of bumper to bumper traffic--always seems like a miracle to me that they can even manage to get anywhere--we had all the professional "lookey loos" who think it's the best show in town and they have to see it!! So in addition to having a fried brain from reading 37 not-really-well-written exams in three days and commenting on each answer, I was almost comatose from sitting in the car and moving 10 inches at a time, breathing car fumes, and truly coming to the conclusion that I was never going to see my hubby ever again!!

We're nearly ready to launch ourselves on our Fall 2011 Train Trek back to the East Coast, traveling to Chicago, along the Great Lakes, to Boston, then on to Portland, Maine, back to Washington, D. C. to visit some long-time friends, then on to Atlanta (more long time friends), to Alabama to visit with daughter #1, then to New Orleans where we will veg out for a couple of days, back to Chicago and two days down time, and then home on the Amtrak California Zephr to Northern California and south on the Amtrak Capitol Corridor to Bakersfield where we will take an Amtrak bus to Newhall, pick up our car, and literally race down Fwy 405 to attend an election seminar for election workers for the November 8 election. Restful, huh?? My hubby is a train nut, and he is so excited because he will be riding on 5 -- get that? 5 trains he has never ridden on ever before. Be still my foolish heart!!

So as I am able to get internet access during the next month, I will post some pics and info about where we are traveling. Until then, enjoy the cooler weather and we hope that all of us who need the rain will continue to be blessed.

Friends: Our Greatest Treasure!

Hubby and I have been working to finalize the arrangements for a cross-country train trek that he and I will be taking in mid-October when during which we will be visiting with two families who have been friends for over forty years. Actually, we all served together back in the late 1950's-early 1960's when we all were stationed in Berlin, Germany. We were a part of what was then referred to as the "German-American Community" and worked in a setting that was not segregated from the German establishments around the various military offices. It was a very unique setting and we had wonderful opportunities to get to know people we would ordinarily not have met. Planning this trip has sort of turned our thoughts back to those days, made both hubby and I realize that we have encountered some very special people in our life, many of whom we have had to bid farewell or whose lives have taken them in different directions.

Added to the remembrances engendered by all this trip planning is some thought brought on by a discussion I had with a local friend about holding grudges. I guess the direction of our thought was along the lines of: "What is really most important? Holding the grudge or keeping the friend?" I found it a question I hadn't considered often in recent years. As one who really doesn't hold grudges, I haven't thought much about what really is going on. But I have realized in recent days that two of my really good friends are mad at each other and, in my humble opinion, are holding grudges about really silly stuff. Obviously, it isn't silly to the two of them, but really, is the grudge so important that they are willing to sacrifice a long-time friendship so they can hold on to their particular "take" on a given situation? I'm worried about them, and yet I know I have to stay out of their way.

This, of course, has moved me on to thinking about the value of friends in my life. I am presently counseling with a lady who seems to have a talent for choosing people as friends and acquaintances who are absolutely toxic for her. They continually disappoint her and have, in fact, had some destructive influence on her and her life. She is so needy, and so lonely. Made me realize just how precious to me my friends have been throughout my life. Thanks to Facebook I have been able to connect with some friends of the past (although their lives are so different now and we really don't have nearly as much to share these days). I will always treasure the times we spent together. I choose to believe that they were there when I needed them, and hopefully, I met a need in their life as well.

Of course, I also remembered people I thought of as "friends" and realized later on that they were acquaintances or people I worked with, but that they had not investment in my life as a true friend would have. Those experiences taught me a lot about being insightful about the people in my daily life--are they co-workers I value but don't have much to do with my life outside of my job? And I realized that the number of true friends I have had in the past and have now are a much smaller number than I first assumed. All the more reason to treasure the true friends I have.

Lastly, I can't have any commentary on "friends" without acknowledging my very best friend who happens to also be my hubby of many decades. He has stayed with me through thick and thin, through kid troubles, money troubles, job troubles, and with his irrepressible sense of humor, made me laugh when I least felt like doing so. I am truly blessed to have him in my life.

Hang on to your friends . . . they are our greatest treasure!

Labor Day 2011 -- Is It Your Job Or Your Life?

Labor Day -- Whoopee!! A three-day weekend!! The Last Blast before the Fall activities begin again! So Labor Day has become in American tradition. W inhen I was a kid no one went back to school before the day after Labor Day, so even though we were delighted to have another holiday, and the adults were glad for a day off work, we school kids were aware that early on that Tuesday after Labor Day we were going to be kicked out of school, force-fed our breakfast, dressed, spit-shined, and sent off to meet another academic dictator and a room full of kids who may or may not turn out to be friends.

Nowadays Labor Day means many different things to many people. Here in the small community where I live they still start school the day after. But throughout Southern California schools are starting at many different times and there is no longer a summer vacation in some districts with year-round school schedules. Yet there are still family picnics, company get-togethers, celebrations of one kind or another, a beer-burger fest in backyards, traveling to visit family or friends, accidents, drunk driving, and all the good and not-so-good that comes with holiday observances.

This Labor Day I have been thinking about what it means to us as human beings to work. My daughter and I were talking of this just this past weekend as we traveled to one of our So. Calif. Blogger get-together days, about what jobs and careers mean to people.

My grandmother (from Western Kentucky) always made a point of reminding me to " . . . never forget who my people are." It took me some adult living to recognize what I think she was trying to tell me. In our society it is common, when being introduced to someone new, to first inquire: "And what do you do?" This is especially true of men. More and more it is becoming obvious that we as a society see people based on what they do rather than who they are. It was one of the realities that crashed in on my hubby the first time he lost his job. For quite some time he was very depressed. At first I thought it was because of the financial crunch. Later he admitted that it was because he felt worthless, not living up to my expectations or those of "society" or being a "real man."

In truth, judging people according to their job or career is, in my opinion, very demeaning. I like what I do, feel that is what I should be doing to use my gifts and talents productively, but I would hate to think that is all I am. Surely I am more than what I do! I think of some women I have known that were single moms, worked endless hours doing two low-paying jobs, often thought to be at the "bottom" of the social ladder. Yet, they were some of the best people I have ever known. Giving, caring, considerate, responsible, selfless--all the qualities that make a person a stellar human being. In the eyes of many they were just human "flotsom & jetsom." What does that say about our society that can dismiss these wonderful women as "disposable?"

My hope is that my life is lived in a way that testifies to who I am rather than what I do. I often spend time reminding myself that while I may be married, be a mother and grandmother, active in a career, that I am who I am and I am a career person who happens to be a woman, who is also married with children and grandchildren. While these activities certainly enriched my life and I am deeply grateful to have found my life partner and brought four wonderful people into the world and made richer by far with the lives of six delightful grandkids, I am who I am as a person and that is who I trust the world can see.

There is a genuine possibility that this may all seem irrelevant to many. In my counseling life, however, I find that many persons get tripped up in their self-image because they confuse their jobs with who they are. I like to think it this way: my vocation or calling is to be the best human I can possibly be; my occupation allows me to make a living and pay my bills. There is a significant difference. This Labor Day reminds me that my most important labor is to continuing working on me while, at the same time, I continue earning a living.

Hope you all are having a wonderful holiday!!