Check Please! Or my year on Match.com...

Okay... it was not what one would call a success. I mean if the goal was to meet someone and have a connection be it a friendship or as they like to say in the profiles"something more". It was not.

First... let me say that most people are not on this thing to make friends no matter how much they say that it is an option. Its really not.

Nope, most fall into one of two categories.

Category 1...They are looking for the last great love of their life. They sincerely hope this person can be found through Internet dating.

Category 2..they are looking not to die alone. Now of course I can only speak for my age group...but there are a whole lot of people who are in this group.

Betcha thought I was going to say people looking for sex..that appears not to be the case..again not in my age group..unless we are being courted by youngsters.

But I digress and we will get on to the 29 year olds..I promise.

Dating in your mid 50's has a certain amount of yuck to it anyway. I mean most of us are just to flippin tired to be bothered most nights. There is a lot of work in dating and most of us just don't have the stamina anymore.

The profiles that guys put up crack me up. I have never in my life realised that so many men are interested in "cuddling on the couch" or walking on a moonlit beach".

I also was unaware that so many men are hanging out either in local bars in their jeans or dressing up for those"black tie" affairs. Who knew that central New York had all those black tie affairs and not to stereotype but in Clyde and Port Byron? Doubt it.

So about the guys.

Well, the very best quote that I have ever heard anyone say about online dating was by a woman who is dating a friend of mine. I would love to take credit for it but..

She said " Do you remember the Flintstones cartoon from when we were kids and do you remember Mr Slate? Every guy I date looks like Mr. Slate. I'd settle for Fred or Barney but all I get is Mr. Slate."

Oh... I hear ya sista ,I hear ya.

I have discovered that men have no idea what they look like. They have no problem putting a picture up that is 15 or 20 years old and I figure it must be that is what they see when they look in the mirror.

Well, its either that or they are all under the mistaken impression that I am blind, stupid and desperate or all of the above. Seriously guys, I am going to realize that you no longer have hair and that you have gained 25 lbs. So..why bother with false advertising. It really gets the date off to a bad start. When you walk in that room and you are looking and looking and then you see someone who looks like the dad or much older brother of the guy you are expecting..it is a bad sign for things to come.

Also... for whatever reason, some guys seem to feel that it is Okay to check me out from top to bottom like they are buying a horse. I have had dates where I half expected the guy to open my mouth and count my teeth.

And, it really is not Okay to say" Wow I bet you were a looker when you were younger" Not a compliment and for the record..I think I look better now!

I went on a number of first dates..very few second dates and even fewer third dates.

So lets look at the year in review.

On my very first date after having coffee in a Tim Hortons for less than an hour he says to me

"where do you see this relationship going?"

I thought he was kidding so I said" well my part of the "relationship" (and yes, I used air quotes) is going home.

Turns out he wasn't kidding and he said to me that he did not feel I could be a" serious life partner". Got that right buddy. So no second date.

Took me awhile to get back on the horse after that but I did and the next date was one of those where I walked into the restaurant and saw a man who was for sure a good 15 years older than he had said and he already had professed to being older than i figured on dating.

So my calculations are that he was about my dads age... mid 70's.

His first words to me" You are not dressed appropriately for the weather"

First words to me. My first words should have been goodbye but I am polite..(well I was polite not sure i am anymore)..anyway we continued with what may have been the fastest meal ever eaten at the Sherwood.

He criticised my choice of foods ( not enough protein)..my clothing ( not weather appropriate) .. my number of children ( too many)and my work( too altruistic).

He then insisted we walk before I get in my car as digestion works better with walks after meals.

I walked faster than i have ever walked in heels..I was a freakin marathon runner. Run Diane Run!

Check Please!!

Okay, so again I become somewhat gun shy but then i decided like the ad says" Just do it"

So i did.i became a serial dater. if they asked i went.

I went so often to Parker's in Auburn that my kids were worried that the staff would start thinking i was a hooker.

Some highlights: The guy who spent the first 15 minutes of our date telling me how much he hated his ex. While telling me this he grew red in the face and took a bottle of hot sauce pretended it was a car and showed me how he would love to drive back and forth over her again and again.

Nice

So I say " I detect a bit of unresolved hostility" And he says to me.." I am a nice guy but that bitch deserves to die." Alrighty then..Check please!

Then we have the musician who seemed okay..decent music..sweet..not the sharpest tool in the shed but..nice enough and we had one semi date ( he was playing) and then he invites me to where he is playing again and since it was home territory( Parker's) I figure why not. So I go and I am sitting next to a woman about my age and I am watching him play and this younger woman kind of dancing along with him and I realise that she is also his date and at the same time the woman next to me realizes the same thing. This guy was covering his bases. Three women..well who knows maybe more..

Check Please!!

Then there are the young guys. The guys who for whatever reason are attracted to women my age. Could be that whole cougar thing. Could be unresolved mom issues. The truth is I just couldn't bring myself to actually date them.

Online flirtations worked but when it came down to it..couldn't date guys that were younger than some of the clothes I own.

There needs to be some sort of a marker in ones life. Evidently that's mine.Who knew!

There was the guy that I had a successful date 1 and 2 and then when on date three I said I would not go to his apartment..he became very condescending and hostile he told me I was " not confident in my womanhood"

Nope..don't think thats it...

There was the guy I caught taking the tip I left for the waitress and when I called him on it he said" nobody tips me for doing my job" I told him in no uncertain terms what a jackass i thought he was and I grabbed my money( note my money) and put it in our waitresses hand. Check please!

There was the guy with the disgusting long fingernails..also way older than he said... who told me right away that I was " good enough to do" YECKKKK!!!

Check please!!!!!!

So one year..lots of dates...learning the Parkers menu well enough to work there...and while not a success...

I did get lots of stories and that may just be what it was all about for me anyway.

Because its always about the story.

the perfect pie crust~

Making a truly excellent pie crust is an art form. It is not done distractedly or haphazardly or without intent. Good pie crust makers have patience. They have the understanding that even when you do every thing the same way..sometimes it just doesn't work out...and they do not hold that against the process or the pie.

My mother was an excellent pie maker. Although she made them all year round the day before Thanksgiving was her "Superbowl of pie making days" There was always 2 pumpkin. 1 cherry 1 apple, 1 apple crumb ( or crummy apple as she would call it) 1 mince and my favorite...pecan.

I would wake up the day before Thanksgiving and the process would already be underway...unlike when I bake, the kitchen remained amazingly neat considering all that flour that was flying around. Oh sure occasionally you might see a little flour on her apron( she always wore an apron) or perhaps her cheek but by and large it was an orderly endeavor.

I was extremely fortunate to be taught this process. As a very little girl I learned the secrets of good crust making... proper temperature of the water( cold)...How to add the water...

( a slow steady stop and go stream)...the affect of temperature and humidity on a pie crust, and

how to handle the crust..not too much or too little.. and finally proper rolling techniques...flatten with your hand and the quick short rolls in each directions.

Like I said, it is an art form.

Its interesting what the mind holds on to. For the last couple years I have found myself only dealing with what is and not what was. I dealt with all the day to day duties and responsibilities that happen when you have a loved one who has dementia. As sometimes happens In my effort to caretake I had to let go of my mother.

Recently I feared that I had lost all memories of the woman who was my mom. I really thought they were gone.

Two weeks ago I could barely remember that she made pies let alone the exact sequence.

Today ...I can hear her singing as she gathers her ingredients..I see the big yellow mixing bowl..I can feel the heat in the kitchen and I watch as the windows steam up...the wire are sitting on the kitchen table waiting for the pies as they get brought out of the oven...and then there are the pies... the amazing aroma as they cook in the oven and then their golden crusts and lovingly cut out designs or faces on them...

The nice elderly woman with dementia that I have been dealing with for the last several is gone and in her place I have found that my mom is back.

The pie making..piano playing..garden tending..party planning..storytelling...bookworm..lipstick wearing..jewelry loving...card playing...crossword puzzle expert..game show watching...walking partner...avon loving...sister..wife..mother..and grandmother is back.

And I have missed her and will not forget her again.

The Room of the Dead...

We all have one. ..A Room of the Dead that is.

It is a phrase I heard while listening to "The Dangerous Old Woman"Myths and Stories of the wise woman archetype by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, PhD.

I have loved this whole series of stories. Actually more than loved it..found it invaluable. Not a word I throw around too much.

So back to the room of the dead, it is described as the room we all have that is filled with all the things that are not good for us..or that are no longer good for us...perhaps, once upon a time they may have been but now.. they are not.

The room can be filled with people. It can be filled with our own self doubt and denigration.

It can also be filled with concepts that drag us down...things like:

Behave or Be A Good Girl Or Be A Nice Girl.

Now in and of themselves these are not actually bad things but nine times out of ten what they really mean is "Don't be yourself. Don't be full of life...Don't question my authority..Do what I want...Think what I think."

I am 55 years old and this very summer i had a man say to me " Be A Good Girl".

Seriously and at that moment I thought: Thats it , I am freaking done being a good girl.

I no longer feel the need to conform to any ones idea of what being good..or a girl..or a woman..is...ever again.

TA DA!! Wretched situation that gave me a much needed wakeup.

That stuff is all in my room of the dead.

It is pretty packed in there. Which is how it should be at this point in my life. If it were empty it would mean I still do not recognize that which is toxic for me.

People need to know this.

People should be cautious. Not frightened.. cautious.. huge difference.

Fright holds you back but caution keeps you awake.

We all need to stay awake. It is when we get drowsy that we are prone to make all sorts of mistakes..again and again. When we get tired we forget all the reasons something didn't work the first 85 times we did it.

And then, well then, we do it again.

You know all those things we really want but know in our heart of hearts are not going to work for us.. a job.. a relationship... All the things that end up being blood sucking and life draining instead of life giving. Its all there and when we start to get tired we convince ourselves that this time it will work.

Recently, I had a good friend talk to me about an opportunity that she has to do something that she wants to do very very much. Something that should be a wonderful fit for her.. Something she and I know she would be great at.

However, the problem is she was offered this very opportunity a few months prior and she turned it down because she knew it was going to suck the blood right out of her.

Now those are my words but the point is she knew it was not, as presented, going to work. No matter how much she wanted it... as it was... it was not going to work.

So... she turned it down and she was very very sad about it. It was a huge loss.

So here it is held up to her again. Over the last few months she has realised how much she really wanted it.

So the question is has anything changed? Is there any reason to believe it will work now other than the fact that she wants it to?

I think that is one of the hardest things to leave in the Room of the Dead...the things we really really want. The things we believe should work...if..if something...were different.

I have no idea what my friend will do. It is quite possible that she will bring this out of the room. If she does i will pray for her that she stays awake.. and aware and if it doesn't work that she without hesitation shut it right back up her Room of the Dead.

After all the door has handles on both sides for that very reason.

God does not give you more than you can handle...

Sorry to my youngest and very intuitive and introspective child...he actually has nothing to do with the sh@*t that comes our way.

Not my theology anyway.

See a loving.. a just God would not be a testing god.

That to me is more like a a God with a big fu*king mean streak.

An Eddie Haskell type God. You know..all sweet and helpful when people are looking but when somebodies guard is down..bam! the nasty trick hits them.

Yeah... not my kind of guy.

I think when people say this what they actually mean is that by your faith in God you can handle all the crap that comes running though your life.

That I can get my head around.

Today I threatened to have a nervous breakdown. I was not kidding ...I actually meant it for a minute. I actually felt it for more than a minute.

Having parents with dementia can really really make you feel like you too are not in your right mind.

Now my mom, she is just..in a word..."shot..or gone". Take your pick.

Not medical terms..not nice terms..but it completely sums up the reality of the situation. My mother does not exist any longer. Oh there are little tiny glimpses every once in awhile but mostly this is not someone I know and she most certainly does not know me.

That is an Eddie Haskell type of joke..trading in your loved one for someone you can not recognise... even slightly.

Then there is the fact that i have two of them with it.

My dad is to the stage where he obsesses constantly and continually about odd things. So much so that at times it takes every once of strength in me not to scream at him.." SHUT UP" Just please shut up.. So far..I haven't done it. So far I have held out and answered the question..the same question..over and over exactly the same way.

Today's obsession was about a reverse mortgage and if it is the thing for him to do..and where his SU hat was. His orange SU hat.. I did not know. I still do not know but I can pretty much put money on the fact that soon... very soon he will call me and once again he will say to me

"Diane..do you know where my SU hat is..the orange one?.."

Once again I will answer "no..No I do not".

Then he will say" oh I thought maybe you did."

See God would not give me two parents with this just to see how the heck I would do..how long it would take to crack.

Eddie Haskell yes..God No.

So what exactly does God give me? He didn't give me parents with dementia..he didn't give me a broken marriage..he didn't give me financial stress.. he didn't give me my laundry list of health problems..or my grand daughter with hearing problems or my daughter with health problems.

He did not. It was not... it is not a test.

How long before you "cry uncle: is not what the Great Spirit is looking for.

He gives us all something different. He gave me a great sense of humor..most days I can find humor in virtually any situation.

He gave me wonderful children and friends who listen to me when i

say "excuse me...nervous breakdown in the works"

He gave me the knowledge that life is short..love is good..and that it does not stop..even when the person you love does not appear to be the person you have loved for years...or when they are "shot or gone or really gone" life continues..love continues.

He gave me a strong sense of faith. Faith in my ability to withstand what life throws at me because I believe in the redemptive powers of his love.

So yes Emily..just flip it around a bit and you have it...God gives us the ability to handle whatever cruel cosmic joke lands at our feet. By his love we can withstand it all. That is the part to always hold on to.

Oh and he gave me you to remind me of it...

Amen

You can't always get what you want...

And sometimes you really can't get what you need.

Now, a prime example of that would be the New York State budget 2010. I mean can you find....anywhere... a better example of poor administration...ineffective government...and last but certainly not least...the complete lack of understanding or caring for poor and middle income New Yorkers.
I have watched this ridiculous debacle as it played itself out and found that at times i have been so angry that it is almost amusing.

The budget cuts that the Governor has been so excited about did not affect Wall Street and the rich. They did however create more hardships for those who can least afford them.
There are over 800,000 unemployed people in the state...not a lot of new jobs created during this 4 month political agenda game. Seems like they might have come up with something a little better during all that time.
But they didn't.

Then lets take a look at the 1.2 billion dollars that was given over the last and the current budget cycles from the federal government that was meant for welfare programs and job creations.
1.2 BILLION DOLLARS... that my friends is a whole lot of cash.

However, Gov Patterson and the gang decided to spend less than 7% on jobs.
This year... during this time of 800,000 unemployed.... they decided it would be a good idea to use only 15 million of the 638 million that was available.

See, now if i was the feds I would want a little explaining done about that but alas, i doubt that is on any ones radar...because...heres the thing...poor people and middle class... not really on any of their radars.
Yep, I said it...they don't actually care.
They only care when they are campaigning...poor people make good great photo ops. Food pantries and Thanksgiving and some politician rolling up their sleeves and dishing out a turkey dinner...that's when they care and that's when they think about it.

Cynical Cynical Diane...for shame. ):

Okay, I believe that individually if they got to know someone and they realised that the person was struggling they would jump in and try to help and care, but on a larger scale they have no frame of reference and cannot even conceive of the real issues.

They can't understand worrying about food for your kids...no idea about having 5 kids and your gas and electric shut off...don't understand about taking your kids and living in tent or cabin at camp grounds until it is too cold to continue...no clue about getting food and clothes at a food pantry and no idea about the hopelessness that exists when there are just no jobs and the unemployment has run out.

Now some of that money went to existing welfare programs and some went to a Childcare
but
...a whole flippin bunch...was simply diverted to use as fiscal relief. NICE.
And not for nothing..that childcare money would be even better if there were any freaking jobs for someone to actually work at!!!

So what to do what to do...
Well I am glad you asked...

We need an overhaul in government... both parties... a complete overhaul.

We need to pay attention and we need to speak up and we need to vote and we need to lobby.

If Albany or Washington isn't listening we need to get their attention.
Get new people in office.
Get people registered to vote and make sure they are informed.
Most of all we need to stop sitting on our collective asses and hoping one person will save us.
We Americans have been lazy and complacent and this is where we are... in a mess that only grows worse each year.

So No.... you can't always get what you want and you can only get what you need if you work for it.
Lets all work for it.

Oh that 21st century church...

Lest I be criticized for beating a dead horse...this is not the same thing. Okay, kind of the same with a few differences. First... I am reacting to something recent that has happened that has nothing to do with me. Second... I have decided that part of my call, a big part is speak up when things strike me as odd, insincere, or just plain wrong.

Which is where I find this recent issue..in the just plain wrong category.

I believe it is wrong on a couple levels...wrong as it is not right and wrong it is not in keeping with what the Diocese of Central New York claims to be about.

The Messenger( Diocesan newsletter) came out recently and it had something in it that struck me as so completely incongruous with the "mission" of the Diocese that I couldn't actually believe it was there.

" All Deacon Ordinations will be held at the Cathedral" Say what??

I get the whys. They are hoping to showcase the Cathedral... and want people throughout the diocese to go there.

I would feel that for some ordinations it may be perfectly appropriate. However, in keeping with the mission of the Diocese and stated desire to live out a vision of 21st century thinking I believe they have seriously missed the boat.

If I had been ordained as a Deacon I would not want my ordination to be there. I would want to be where I serve. I had every intention of getting ordained right at The House of Concern in Seneca Falls. The place that raised me up, the place I serve. The people that I would want at my ordination would not have a way to make it to The Cathedral and even if someone arranged transportation few of them would go. The ones with no proper clothes to wear, the ones who feel uncomfortable in any kind of formal setting let alone a church, the least, the last and the lost. Those folks won't go to the Cathedral.

Those folks can't be made to go... so once again they are left out.

The church is being elitist again.

The celebration of a new minister in the church is not supposed to be a party for the other members of the club.

A Deacon is called to serve. To serve...not to preen and immediately turn their backs on the people they are serving.

The cathedral is beautiful. I am sure any ceremonies would be quite lovely. It may be a perfectly appropriate place for some to be ordained...it may be the very last place that others should be.

The Episcopal Church keeps wondering and wringing their hands " oh what can we do to get people to come to us?" I think the first thing, at least for this diocese, is to decide what they really want. This whole 21st century thing...what do they really mean by it.

Are we willing to accept the very fact that a church is not just a building, that church is not even the important thing? The Gospel is the important part. When trying to spread the Gospel sometimes you need to move. You go to the people where they are, you do not expect them to come to you. Most aren't going to come. We welcome them to Jesus, we open our heart to them and if they want to come though our doors we welcome them and if they do not...if they do not... WE STILL WELCOME THEM.

Jesus came to us. His disciples came to us. They did not build a freaking cathedral and expect the beggars and the thieves , the sick, the unwashed to find them.

It was not the way then and it is not the way now.

Watching Amanda Grow...

There was a song back in the early 70's called 'Watching Scotty Grow' by Bobby Goldsboro and it was kind of awful. Well, i thought it was awful. It was a huge hit and so I am guessing somebody liked it a lot and probably made the guy a bunch of money.

Which is not the point of my story at all except that every time I look at my beautiful daughter and her growing belly the refrain of that song keeps playing in my head " I'm just sitting here watching Scotty Grow". Except that by now i have changed it in my head to "Amanda grow."

Being the mother of a pregnant daughter is quite an experience. I have been completely fascinated by every moment of her pregnancy. I have worried when she has worried and worried when she has not worried, I have been delighted watching her growing belly. I have day dreamed about the baby and what she will look like ( yes I said she but give me a moment and I will say he) and what she will be accomplished at. I daydream about first steps, first words, first day of school. I also get to daydream about my role... I will be the cheerleader, the defender, the one who will always be in this child's corner. Some people call it spoiling...

Nonsense.

I just tell them it is in the grandma handbook. Trevor has heard about the grandma handbook... his soon to be bride, Laura, knows it exists and they also know I make it up as I go.

Amanda and Brian will know it soon enough.

I have had a fascination with being a grandma that I honestly did not have for being a mom. I have decided that it has to do with the fact that i never had one. My parents parents were dead long before I was born. I was always quite envious of those who did have them.

My cousins had their grandma Laura who always smelled of lilacs and carried a handkechief that had embroidery on it. She baked cookies, she sat in rocker and she was big and comforting looking. Her house looked and smelled unlike any other house. It looked like a gingerbread house and there were all sorts of interesting things in the house. She made beautiful blankets for babies. She was also an artist that was not as typical for the time but she did it.

There was my friend Lynn who had Grandma Deacy and Grandma O'Hearn. Two grandmas and one of them even lived with her for awhile! One of my favorite sayings came from Grandma Deacy " Poor excuse is better than none" Even at a young age I knew that she did not really mean that a poor excuse was a good thing..and that it would be a saying I would want to remember and use some day...and I have.

So I had some Grandma envy.

Which makes the whole thing so fun for me now.

Because this is the thing about the grandmother hand book you write it a little different for each child and their parent.

Blaze was my first grandchild. It was hard for me to know my place. That boy has had grandmas everywhere. Both his mom...Sheena ...my stepdaughter... and his dad had parents who had been divorced and remarried and they also had their parents parents around. Grandmas everywhere. So I waited to see how much help was needed...what my role was... I worried for awhile that he would feel that every woman who was older than his mom was his grandma. He seems to have been able to figure it out nicely. So I have watched him grow...delighted in him and in his wonderful mother. I have watched them both grow.

Then there was my Maggie...

whose very existence I am pretty sure I felt before either of her parents.

Again... I waited, where is my place... this is not my daughter, what does she want, what will her mom want, and what does my son i want.

It was a dicey situation that has turned out the very way I had prayed for it to over and over for the four of them.

My role,

I worry, i spoil ,I love, and I watch them grow.

So now we have Amanda in the countdown. She and Brian have decided not to find out the sex of the baby. Everyone says boy and I am fine with that but... I have had girl on the brain along with a birth date of July 15th.

I am not the grandma that I fantasied being.

I do not wear house dresses, although I do fancy dresses these days. My perfume is Euphoria... I don't knit..hell I don't even sew buttons and have been know to scotch tape my hems...I used to bake but not so much anymore...I am separated and gone back into the dating world.

In my daydreams I would not have been a match.com grandma.

But like the handbook itself ...Grandmas change.

What does not change is how much I look forward to this and all grandchildren.

I love this baby completely already.

My arms are ready to hold and rock. I can almost feel the child there already and smell that new baby smell.

I watch my beautiful girl grow, I rub her belly,and I talk to my newest grandchild and I say see you soon little one, Mema is waiting...waiting to watch you grow.

Angels without hands

I collect angels...not perhaps the best thing for a woman who is disastrously clumsy but I love them and I do it anyway.

Two things occurred to me the other day.The first is that the majority of my angels have one thing in common even though they are different types, shapes, sizes and prices.

Most.. maybe all of them... have been broken and put back together with varying degrees of success.

The wings have broken off several and been glued back on. Some with more painstaking care than others... Some more time consuming... Some more detail but all in place more or less.

All except one and that one, no matter what i do, the wing refuses to go back in place. Now it sits next to her.

My favorite is the one with no hand. She stands in my kitchen next to my sink arms out stretched minus one hand. I do not know where her hand went. It has not been found. I don't even know what incident befell her. I know it was not of my doing and nobody has ever fessed up to it.

The second thing that occurred to me is that I love her because she so embodies to me what an angel is and what a friend is.

They both watch over you always...

An angel, like my friends, stand by regardless of there own needs.

No hand...no problem..., arms still reach out to comfort, to enfold.

I have my angels all over my house which is why they get broke so much. I do not put them in a case or on a shelf. They sit at my sink , in my bedroom, next to my desk, next to the television they sit where ever I am.

They sit where I am.

Angels and friends, they can be broken and battered and still they watch over you. Sometimes they come without wings, without hands, without money, without cars, without a church home,without husbands.

They are there where you are in your brokenness.... and in theirs.

This past year I have found that it is the friends in my life who have become my living angels.

They have lost loved ones and been there for me. They have had their own broken hearts and still they are there for me. They have busy lives, children, aging parents, relationships that need tending,ailing spouses and still they are there for me.

I have also discovered that at a point in your life your children can and do become some of your best and most trusted friends. There is a relationship shift which allows this if you are fortunate, I have been more fortunate than anyone has a right to be.

I have a friends that I have known my whole life and ones that are fairly new and they have all pulled my head above the water several times over the past 12 months.

Sickness, betrayal, heartache, violence, disappointment, and anger I have felt them all and each time one of these things comes up one of them reaches in and grabs me. I am sure some have felt their arms tire with the weight of me at times but not once have any of my true friends let me go. Not once.

This year my friends will be receiving angels at various times. A reminder of my gratitude and a reminder that I am always there to return the favor.

The rush of a violent wind...

Today is Pentecost. The story of Pentecost is easily one of the top five favorite passages for me in the bible. Each year I am curious to hear the different homilies on the subject.

One of the best that I ever heard was by Mother Ginger. She was wonderful.

Mother Ginger is Deaf and has an interpreter to speak with her. Not for her... as she speaks also with words and hand motions,,,but along with her..kind of a tag team thing. However,I soon learned that for me...blocking out the interpreter ... and just closely focusing on her and listening to her made me understand her far better. For me the interpreter was a distraction. I know this was not true for everyone but for me it was.

I was lucky enough to hear her a few times and each time it was good but the Pentecost homily... the best.

With the story of Pentecost she managed to place me right in that room with the rushing wind and the all the voices and fire licked tongues. It was riveting to watch her. It was the day my real love of and more importantly,what I believe is the message of the passage was born.

Westboro Baptist Church is a fundamentalist church that spews a message of hate, hellfire and damnation. They feel it is their mission to point out...the errors of everyone by methods such as picketing, and screaming in front of churches.

They even have a website called "God hates fags" On the website you can see all the places they will be picketing, at what time and for what reason. Gays...hell bound...Women ministers...hell bound...women with short hair...hell bound and the list goes on.

The most recent target is the late Ronnie Dio. For those of you who don't know he, former Black Sabbath lead singer, recently died.. after a long and courageous battle with stomach cancer ...and they will be picketing his memorial service.

Communication. For me the day of Pentecost was an example of communication borne out of love. No time was that made clearer to me than by a gifted deaf Priest.

The Holy Spirit made it possible for everyone to understand the message no matter what language they spoke.

When I picture that room and I hear the rush of the wind and all the different voices speaking the message I hear is one of love... It is one of welcome..It is one of unconditional acceptance.

Communication. The Westboro Baptist Church also communicates....intolerance...hate... and that no one really is welcome.

Their God is a God of retribution and damnation. Their message is not one of love but of fear.

It is not my theology. Thanks be to God it is not my theology. What a terrible way to view the world. What sad and awful way to go through life and what a dismal way to view God and mankind.

So I offer a prayer for every member of the Westboro Baptist Church for open hearts and for the Holy Spirit to enter it. I offer a prayer that they will know the God of love.

Amen

Grace when and where we can find it

Grace...It is a word...a concept that we hear thrown around a lot. The "grace of God" Gods grace" "grace at work". What does any of that really mean?

Maybe it is something we do not really know until we are in it...or just out of it. The whole hind site is 20/ 20 thing.

So here is a little story for you.

Last week...Wednesday...it was a beautiful day. Really lovely, a bit on the warm side, hints of Spring in the air and I went to tend to my parents. I had been at work all day and I had errands to run. I was not expecting to be the person who was" watching them" that day but things had just worked out that way. So...still the errands had to be done...laundry, Wegmans, post office and the library.

All errands that i would happily forgo...except the library. I love the Library. I have said more than once that one of the best things about moving back to Auburn has been getting back to Seymour Library. On days that i am feeling exceptionally stressed the library is where I go to feel relaxed. I walk in the building and feel an immediate release of tension. Seymour Library is such a wonderful mix of old and new. The building has the classic feeling of many years ago...I walk through the doors and i can feel myself 50 years younger. I swear I hear the voices of Mrs. Pine,the children's librarian, and my mother.

The smell of the books takes me back in an instant. I go back to the time of my childhood and of my children's childhood. Story hour, for me...for my kids...library cards...

I actually remember receiving my first card. Oh and the pride i felt when i could finally print my own name and receive my card. I see my kids painstakingly writing there own names and getting their cards. All that rushes back when I walk in that place.

So back to last Wednesday...

My mom was having a good day and I had errands. So away we went. We did the laundry mat, Wegmans and the Post Office. My mom was a willing if slow companion. Always agreeable she went along with me.

Last stop the library.

I offered to let her sit in the car while I ran in. She said she would walk along. I admit that for a moment I was almost going to pass on going. I figured it would take forever to get her in there...it is a bit of a walk from the parking lot. But I figured we would give it a try. As we approached the doors she looked at me and said very clearly" they have changed this" Which they have.

It used to be that there were these wonderful big stairs and black heavy wrought iron doors. I loved the steps and I would spend a lot of time as a little girl going up and down and up and down. My mother would sit on one side and start to read one of the many books she got out while I went up and down. When i tired I would sit next to her and she would read to me until the bus came to pick us up.

So in we went.

As she walked into the main part of the library ...which is really very much like it was 50 years ago... the look on her face was joyous.

She turned to me and said"oh you loved this place so much...you still love it don't you?" I said to her" oh yes, I really do...because I never ever go here and not think of you." She smiled at me and said"your a good one...your mom did a good job."

" Yes , I told her she really did."

The next day my mother could hardly walk and was talking almost incoherently all the time. Friday she entered the hospital. Saturday she almost died. She rallied but is unable to walk on her own and will be going into a nursing home. She will likely not come out.

Dementia has claimed the mother I had. The bright, organized, high spirited mother has been gone for some time now. About two weeks ago I said to a friend I do not remember her well anymore. I cannot think what she used to be like.

That was before last Wednesday. Last Wednesday It all came back to me and I think It came back to her for a minute.

That to me...Gods Grace.

Ch Ch Ch Changes

Always loved that David Bowie song. Not always as crazy about actual change in my life and I am real sure I am not alone in that. Still it all changes... all the time. Good and Bad... Not a damn thing you can do about it.

Last weeks lectionary readings dealt with changes. Those that had happened...those that were going to happen.

The reading from Isaiah "Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. i am about to do a new thing, now it springs forth,do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert."

The reading from Paul to the Philippians" Beloved I do not consider that i have made it my own; but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on towards the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.

Then there was the Gospel reading. Mary is acting is a most unusual manner for a woman of those times. she has let her hair down and she is anointing Jesus with her hair and costly perfume. Her behavior is questioned and Jesus defends what she does saying that change is coming..he will be gone soon.

The lectionary readings were not the only changes we heard about last week. There was also the endless talk about the Health Care Bill. The Republicans warning against all the evils that would occur if we adopted the health Care reform bill. The Democrats reminding us of all the evils that would befall us if we do not.

Evidently Washington is like the scariest place in the world for change. I even heard the word Armageddon used referring to the bill. Really scary.

Don't get me wrong health care reform is a a serious serious topic.

I... however... find change not to be what is scary.

No change ...now that is what is scary.

Turning a topic that literally means life and death to many into a political issue is scary.

That the American public allows it self to be led like sheep and refuses to research on their own what is really going on is scary.

In my work I have seen people suffer the effects of no insurance or being under insured. It is devastating to families and it ends lives. That is not political rhetoric...No.. that is fact. I have seen young women die because they had no insurance and waited too long to get care.

Not one life should ever be lost because a person had no insurance.

I have seen families who are under insured lose everything they have ever worked for to pay for care.

No one should have to lose their home because they need medical treatment.

Health care is a social justice issue... perhaps one of the greatest of our current time. Nothing separates the haves and have nots any quicker than those with insurance and those without.

Health Care is a religious issue. I like to think of how Jesus would react to the political wrangling and the back door deals that have gone on with this issue. I wonder what he would think of churches shying from a topic that allows such blatant disregard of some lives.

Now I am sure they do not all steer away from it...but a great many do and they do because these days pastors want to be sensitive to their congregation. They do not wish to offend anyone. So you can't pick a side because that might alienate some of the flock.

I am sure that is what Jesus would do. Right?

That any person of any faith can look at this issue and not be appalled is beyond me.

Last weeks lessons speaks of times long gone when people were directed to stop looking and back and to look forward not just look to the new, expect the new. Anticipate change. It does not say fear change. Next week is Palm Sunday. Churches all over will read and act out The Passion. We will once again hear the story of Jesus being caught and convicted and put to death while so many look on and do nothing or even aid in his capture and death. Why?

Because he was different, because they feared change, because they went along with the crowd.

So my personal change? Renouncing my lifelong Democratic status. The partisan politics of this nation get in the way of real change and any real progress. The debacle that this really simple issue became is something that both parties share equally in the blame for. I encourage people to stop looking to the political parties to decide your life. You have a stake in it.

If your a person of faith you have more than stake you have a religious duty to make sure that all are cared for and that no ones life is of more value than anyone else's.

Forget what lies behind and strain towards what lies ahead.

Good Bye Tito...

Tito, our cat of many many years...23 almost 24 to be exact....had to be put to sleep on Saturday.

He has been a part of my life as long as Kim has been a part of my life. He was part of the package when we married.

I did not know him his first three years but I hear he was a Holy terror during that time. My mother-in-law....who has had a good many cats...has deemed him one of the craziest, wildest, naughtiest cats ever. That is saying a lot.

When I first moved in Tito and i did not get along. The cat flipping hated me. I walked by and he scratched me. He would sit on the edge of the couch and I would try to walk out of his way and he would stretch so far to get his claws in me he would often fall off the couch. Served him right!

When i sat down on the couch he would jump up and proceed to stick his butt in my face. If i objected he would hiss and scratch me. He clawed my clothes, he peed in my shoes. He was not accepting this change that he had no say in. He had been perfectly content with my mother-in-law in the house and me in another town. His routine had been disturbed and he was not amused.

It took me moving out...the first time... for him to decide I was Okay.

A year of Kim being in charge of the house made Tito decide maybe I wasn't so bad.

So when i moved back, he was much nicer. MUCH. He never scratched on purpose. He did still put his butt in my face...he apparently decided this was something all people actually liked and he continued that until the day he died.

He, was the only male cat in a house full of female cats for the last few years. He played second cat in charge for many years. When "head cat" Tasu died we wondered if he would take over that position. He did.

Not like Tasu...but he was definitely the head cat.

In the last couple years he had been struck with dementia. Sometimes he would just walk around and yowl seeming confused. The youngest cat, Snake, would go and find him and lead him back to where he needed to be. All of the cats seemed accept his position in the pecking order, his age, and even his failing health. They allowed him to sit where he wanted, eat what he wanted...even if they were eating it at the time and he pushed them out of the way...they put up with his chronic and room clearing diarrhea and they often seemed to try to keep him turned in the right direction in the cat box...which we were quite grateful for.

So you might be asking why did you keep him these last couple years? I mean the dementia and chronic diarrhea really were enough to put him down some time ago. But he seemed happy and not in pain and then there was the fact that he took care of me...Something both Kim and I were quite aware of.

When I was sick,he was one of my life forces. He sat with me hour after hour and purred. When I passed out cold on the floor he was the one head butting me as I came to. When I weighed 80 lbs and was freezing all the time he sat on me and kept me warm. Not just him, there were others... but consistently always he was there. He was devoted to me. I became part of his family.

So we made the decision that as long as he seemed happy we would wait. So wait we did until Saturday morning. Then it was time.

So Tito...I will miss you...thanks for being my cat.

Calling Diane ....part 2

So... i was last talking about my message, call, direct invite... from God. I mentioned that my day had started with reading an email and homily that the good Rev Dr Tembeckjian had written for the prior week.

Now that was the first thing that I did that morning... before getting out of bed... read her email and her sermon.

That was, I do believe, the first call from God.

At first,I heard it as Good Morning..someone loves and cares about you, I did not hear it as anything more or less. I was certainly not hearing it as God speaking to me. Not then.

Her homily, as I read it that morning, made me think but in all honesty I did not read it deeply.

But later... I was drawn to read it again,

I have now read it every single day since receiving it.Some days ...more than once.

It starts out with the story of Willie Loman.

Now you gotta love a priest who starts out her first Sunday of Lent Sermon with Death of a Salesman! That's not the typical way to go.

It got my attention.

I am a firm believer that what we get out of a sermon is what we need at the time. Call it divine intervention, Call it a panacea for the masses. Call it fate. Call it anything you want.

For me, it was part of the call from God. Direct and pointed. I have had several. That day. This week. One of many.

Rev.Dr. T gave me the wake up and I chose to briefly shake it off.

However, when i started to really listen I thought how perfect the Willie Loman character was for me to focus on.

Willie Loman, a tragic figure who chooses to end it all rather than live in to who he really was. He had a vision, an ego, about who he was supposed to be and without that...he felt his life was not worth living. He could not envision anything other than what he thought his life should look like.

The lectionary reading for that week was about the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness. She goes on to talk about the fact that we all enter this wilderness at different points in our lives. Often, it is when we least expect it. Often, it is just as we think we have it all figured out. Then BOOM... there we are, sitting in the wilderness, walking alone, dodging one temptation after another.

Temptations come in all shapes, sizes, and varieties.

Often it is the ones we put in our own way that really trip us up...the subtle ones..the internal ones.

For Willie Loman it was not knowing what he was good at...letting his misguided ego reduce his life to a failure when in fact maybe...just maybe ... he just hadn't found his niche.

His struggle was within himself, in his mind, a war within.

For Jesus, in the wilderness, it was the temptation from Satan. It was the temptation he felt as he examined his own life, as he realized just exactly what his life would be... what he was being called to do.

For all of us the struggle to discover who we are and what we are called to do can be life affirming.

Conversely, this struggle in the spirit of introspection can also move us further away from God.

It can be our wilderness walk. It can be our temptation.

As Rev Dr T says..."Such contemplations are not easy."

"Such contemplations are devil enough".

But then it is all part of the journey... Isn't it?

Diane...calling Diane...Get your head out of your...way

OK. I admit I am going out on a limb here talking about "hearing a voice" that is telling me where to go to church but what the heck. It will not be the first time that people have questioned me and surely will not be the last.

So this is what happened today.

Its Sunday...that most troubling of days for me since last October. Now in the last couple months I have made some half hearted attempts to find a community to worship with...a place to go and heal I have found some good people along the way but my sense of call within the community has not been satisfied. My sense of call has remained in limbo. Now this may seem strange since I run The House of Concern...a food pantry, close closet and general referral agency... but it hasn't been the same for me since my derailment. I think that is a good word..derailment... As a train on a track, when the derailment happened..I got woefully off course in all things and with many people and that includes my job. For the first time in almost three years..it became a job. it was no longer part of a call it was a job.

So part of my Lenten discipline was for me to let go of the anger and the sadness that has taken over in my life.

I realised to do that I needed to go to churches where I have been and where I was part of community. That worked last week but this week I felt myself wavering. I was going to head to Trinity today but could not get up the energy. I lay in bed this morning reading an email from the good Rev Dr. Tembeckjan and read her sermon from last week and it was good and it got me thinking and I thought maybe I just need to head to Camillus to hear her but that did not seem right.

So I decided not to decide! I mean that in itself is a decision.

I got myself ready to work out at the YMCA and went to do a cardio/strength training full out workout. So I am working along and working up a sweat and I keep hearing this nagging voice in my head... which is saying go to that church on Grant Avenue up by the movie theater. It was just that plain. Go Go Go.

I kept thinking this is crazy i do not know what time services are... it is already 10:00 and I am sweating and in sweat pants and haven't washed my hair since Wednesday and I am wearing my House Of Concern hoodie and have no make up on and I do not even have any money for the collection plate.

So I finished up. I got in my car intended to head home and next thing i know i am on Grant Ave and I think I will drive up and look and see what time the service is and maybe i will go another time. So I drive up... see lots of cars and think OK it has started and i am not going in and then i see a couple walking in and I drive by the front slowly and see a big sign that says"Come as you are".

Okay I get it.

So I park and in I go... met by a very nice woman who gave me a gift bag and found me a seat. There were people singing...some of that Praise modern singing that i am less than impressed with but they were doing it with gusto and I do like that and the band was good. The sound system was good and despite my clothes I did not feel all that out of place. So I am checking the place out and I think to myself If God wanted me here and I believe he did..there must be something I am supposed to get from this.

So the first reader comes up and he reads" There are many kinds of gifts" And I thought yes, yes there is.

Then we were on to the video and it is this man from Syracuse and they are ending a series on exercising your spiritual muscles.

This week was about service and how we serve and who chooses us to service.

He talked about being chosen by God to serve. That we are all chosen to serve by God. Chosen by God. Picked by God.

I keep being derailed because I forget who chose me. I am only derailed from the Episcopal church... i am not derailed from service. I am not derailed from worship. I am not even derailed from community unless I choose to be.
God has picked me as he picks us all.

We get to come as we are. Stinky, unwashed hair, sweats, it is to follow him...as we are. He makes no conditions for me that I am unable to follow. He does not care if i am a deacon in the Episcopal Church..it will not make him love me more... or less.

He does care if I let myself get derailed. That is not serving and that is not following.

That is my ego getting in the way of Gods bidding.

So will I go back next week..perhaps..I might even clean up a bit. I do know that if God is talking I am listening and I am following.

Amen

Breesus... a savior????

Now I am not a huge football fan. I am not a huge fan of any professional sport. Too much money. Too much adulation, too much focus on a SPORT. A GAME.

I watched the Superbowl more or less. Dozed some, read my book, cut out coupons, you get the idea... not real into it. And I would not have given it much of a thought except for the AOL headline about Drew Brees... Breesus being a new Savior. Really???

That just seems to be a bit of overkill.

It occurs to me that one of the problems that we as a society have is that we place so much emphasis on entertainment, things that are fun, personalities,we treat it as not just important in our life but actually imperative.

Now I get it is really big business for some but for the average person ...deep breathe...it is merely a game, a movie, a TV show, a personality,it is not real to our life except for the entertainment value.

It is not great for the focus of our adulation either. Take Drew Brees...That poor guy has to live up to a flippin lot now. He might want to call Tiger Woods, or Charlie Sheen, John Edwards, or channel Micheal Jackson. Once you have been labeled a savior the fall will be great. Not saying this guy will have all these problems but it is not looking good for him.

I mean if you take someone and tell them you are great, you are the best,we love you, have this, have that, take what you want... we love you. Eventually they have got to start believing their own publicity. They start behaving special.

Then we all get mad at them until they go to rehab, sex rehab, drug rehab, some rehab, and then they are sorry, and then maybe we forgive them...if they still have the goods, and if they can sound a great deal like a repentant victim. They have to repent..every time.

See I look at the past couple years and it has been one celebrity/sports figure/ politician after another..going to sex rehab, falling down in our eyes.

In our eyes.

We go from worshippers to judges and we decide if they should they be forgiven.

That is frankly just f---ked up!

Now call me crazy..it has been said before... but who the heck are we to get to decide anything?

Now I can decide to not watch 2 and 1/2 men anymore because Charlie seems like a creep but that is really the only judging I should be doing.

And I probably shouldn't call him a creep but..I did.

That is really all the judge I need to be. It is not up to me. What happens to him is up to him and God. Not my business.

Then there is Tiger Woods... talk about a fall. DAMN!

Now what made that so hard to take for so many and such an interesting story is that he was supposed to be so squeaky clean. Now turns out he had feet of clay. He was human and life is hard even for a multi millionaire who is banging so many women. No one knew. Well maybe the inner circle but no one even hinted at his activities.

I would take an aside here and posit that many golfers may try to emulate him in hopes that is what made him so great and to that i would say" do not try this at home".

So Tiger is a sex addict.

I would think with all of them out there it must be one of the fields that college grads may want to consider when they are looking for careers that will be profitable in the future.

I think Tiger is just spoiled. He was told he was great,, he was told he was invincible and he was told take what you want and he did. He acted like a child with no manners because we, as the public..let him. Until he got caught and did not live up to his squeaky clean image that we all made for him. Then we were outraged.

So, lets right now do a favor for Drew Brees. Lets not call him a savior. Call him a great football player who helped to bring a win to a losing team and some happiness to a place that has has had huge loss and tragedy. That is pretty good. Let him be thrilled with his win and his family and let him continue with his humanitarian works.

Lets not set him up. Lets not make him a God and lets all of us refrain from playing God ourselves.

Oh and if you need a savior there is one I can point you to. He has been around a long time and so far so good...

Its A Wonderful Life ...Dewey Barker, indeed it is!

Many of you know the village of Seneca Falls is rumored to be the town that Bedford Falls in the movie "Its a Wonderful Life" is modeled after. There are certainly a great many similarities and it is easy to see how this could be thought to be true.

Each December there is a wonderful celebration in the village and this year it was even bigger and more fun than ever.
The House of Concern received wonderful donations from the weekend. It was a great event.

The year before there had been an article in USA TODAY about the similarities of Seneca Falls and Bedford Falls and they talked about House of Concern. Talked about the food pantry, the clothes closet,and the helping hand that we have given for 40 years with the assistance of the good and generous people of Seneca County. Neighbors helping neighbors ...just like in the movie.

Just before Christmas I was reminded of this article. I was reminded because of a young man named Dewey Barker. Dewey Barker is from Lawton Oklahoma. Dewey sent us a donation and a letter. Dewey's letter in part said this" Last year I read about your towns similarity with the town in the movie and felt greatly blessed. I had just returned home from Iraq and this gave me such a good feeling about people." He went on to say that he was settled now and was able to send some money to help our pantry.

How Great is that?!

Dewey Barker feels blessed because of a town and a mission far from his home. He feels blessed to know that while he was in Iraq, neighbors helped neighbors.
I feel blessed because Dewey Barker reminds me that a neighbor is not just who is in our village or county or state or even country. Our neighbors are everywhere.

Dewey Barker you are my neighbor...now and always. God bless you.

Match.com and other indignites of modern life...

Get ready ladies because I, the patron saint of woman's rights, need to get some things out in the open and that is all there is to it.

Some of us are just freaking nuts! I mean really... for the first time in my life I am starting to feel sorry for men who have to deal with...well...us!!

My good friend( a guy) and I both joined match.com at the same time and let me assure you that his experiences are far weirder than mine have been. I mean really..what kind of woman in her 50's sends pictures of herself in her underpants to a man she has not yet met??

We really should know better. I mean I am all for the whole idea of stating what you want and going for it but a little decorum for a 4 time grandmother does not seem to be too much to ask.

Actually,when I think about grandparents on match.com frankly that weirds me out..and I am one of them!

This could be the reason that i have not had any dates yet. I am not just the too picky"he eats his peas one at a time" girl, i am the girl who is not sure we really should even be on it!

See here is the thing...I would truly hate for my granddaughter to find out that I was known as "pretty panties" in some circles. Not that i ever would be because I think functional is always the way to go and that means I will probably not be showing my white cotton fruit of the looms to any guy by text message anytime soon .

There was a time I considered myself liberal and free. Evidently sometime that all kind of went the way of 8 tracks and Nehru Jackets.

I didn't know it until I started doing this.

I thought I could still walk on the "wild side" but Nope, if I have to so in thongs and stilettos, thanks but no thanks! I prefer not to have wedgies or blisters on any part of me.

So what does that say about all my sisters out there who seem to be going full out on the slut train. What happened to "women need men like fish need a bicycle?"

Who the hell are you trying to impress? If you are over 50 and a grandma and you just sent a picture of yourself to a stranger with your boobs out...well frankly i am without speech on that one.

I have a decent rack for someone my age but I am not going to be taking any pics with my cell phone anytime soon.

Besides I have a heck of a time with all that technology and I would have to ask my daughter and i do not feel there are enough bottles of Xanex in the world to get her through that request!

Now do not get me wrong the men have not all been perfect. I have read some really "interesting"things.

For instance:

If you say the word luscious too many times I am going to think you are gay or you received a word of the day calendar and that was today's word.

If you spend two paragraphs on all the things you are not and will not be... then i have to think you are defensive or very set in your ways.

If you tell me that you want an independent woman who loves to cook, entertain, dress sexy for her man, keep a neat house, and be open for spur of the moment romance...you need one of those Stepford Wives.

But my most favorite yet has been a man who i thought was good looking...read hippie type. He truly attracted me very quickly with his looks.

Lets just say one should not judge a book by its cover.

I read his very long profile and was amazed at what this man was looking for.

He wanted a woman who was comfortable being her own person( so far so good) But( uh oh) was willing to give her all to her man. (Ruh Roh) Then he went on with how one would do that..,

You must be willing to live away from the crowds and join him in "his space".

You must be strong. Now I thought for a minute he might mean of strong character but no he meant physically strong and why was that?? Because he wanted you to be able to cook, clean, chop wood, draw water, indulge and enjoy ( well how could we not) tantric sex.

Then he also wanted a woman who" paid her own way" "Paid her own way??"

See... i am thinking if i have cooked, and cleaned, drawn water, chopped wood, engaged in tantric sex....baby I have paid my own way!!!!!

The worst part is that I do believe he was serious and perhaps...just perhaps...that is why this 54 year old, good looking man was single. I could be just going out on a limb here but it is a possibility.

So we are all a little nuts. The boomer generation seriously has never grown up.

We all really think we are still kids. Not a problem our parents had. But we have it. We are on match.com for crying out loud and we show our boobs. God help us all.