Monday, April 29, 2024

Three Funerals, Greening Branches, and Revisions

I am feeling a bit fragmented this morning, and I really need to be grading--but of course, most mornings I really need to be grading.  I am tired, the way I am on most Mondays, a good tired from having done fulfilling activities during the week-end but also the not so good kind of tired from getting up a bit too early.  Let me capture some fragments, which I may develop into full-blown blog posts later.

--On Saturday, I officiated (led?  Not sure what the proper term is) my first funeral.  My mom's cousin entered hospice earlier this year, and when he asked if I would do it, I didn't hesitate.  We had time to plan what he wanted, which made being part of the process a good first experience.

--On Saturday, one of my good church friends from our Florida church had a funeral for her husband, followed by a funeral on Sunday for a choir mate from the Florida church.  We had not seen the choir mate since pre-Covid times, but we did see his wife, who plays the flute.  Three funerals in one week-end feels sobering.

--My mom's cousin had a green burial, which means he was buried in a bamboo casket in a place that was more a forest than a cemetery.  It was beautiful and peaceful.  Of course, it helped that we had lovely weather.  I wouldn't want to go to a green funeral in August in South Carolina.

--As funerals can be, it also functioned as a mini family reunion.  I always think, I should see these people more often, at least once a year!  But there are only so many travel dates in a year, and thus, the years slip by.

--The years slip by and children become adults with children of their own.  I attended the baptisms of my mom's cousin's children, and I spent some time on Saturday remembering how delightful elementary school children can be.  As always, when I am around delightful children, I wonder what we've missed by making the conscious decision not to have children.

--Yesterday's children's sermon went well.  I took the only mostly dead hydrangea bush to church with me.  It does have two living shoots.  I said that some years, we feel like the dried out part of the plant, but if we hold on, we'll see living shoots in our lives again.  It was much more compelling when I preached it than when I wrote about it.

--Oddly, my sermon about abiding with Jesus being a better translation than believing in Jesus was more compelling on the page than when I preached it.  Or maybe it was compelling.  It's hard for me to know.  I knew I didn't want to preach on how we must bear fruit so that we're not thrown into the fire.  I loved the idea of abiding with Jesus who will nourish us and letting God be in charge of fruit.

--Speaking of branches coming back from the dead, everywhere I look, the trees have leaves.  I know it's not remarkable.  It's late April, after all.  But it feels sudden.  I looked out the window in the pre-dawn light, and leaves block the light from the solitary streetlight, which hasn't happened since October.

--Driving across the mountains yesterday, a similar feeling as I looked at the rock faces, now covered with green trees.  The bare branches of trees don't make the same kind of contrast.  And I can see the progress of the green up to the higher mountain ranges, which are barely green at this point.

--I love the drive across the mountains to Bristol, Tennessee to preach each week.  The view never fails to take my breath away.

--We spent time yesterday on the phone with loved ones that we didn't see on Saturday.  I forget how satisfying a phone call can be.

--I also spent time stitching scraps together, another satisfaction.

--And this morning, I put the finishing touches on the rough draft of a poem.  It is now in the final drafts folder, and occasionally, I'll submit it to the few publications that don't require an exorbitant entry fee (exorbitant = anything over $2).  I rarely finish the rough draft to polished part of writing these days, and I wonder if it's because I'm not submitting much.

--The part of poetry that's most valuable to me is the seeing something with fresh eyes and making surprising connections.  The polishing is important because I can sometimes get a new insight, but that happens more rarely.  It's fun to polish, in some ways, but not as full of delight.

--Today may be the day that our open floor plan comes to an end.  For part of the year, we had no interior walls and no interior doors except for one bathroom door.  Today, we get doors hung to go with the drywall that got hung last month.  

--When people on design shows go into houses with perfectly good kitchens and natter on about the open concept they prefer, I think, "You have no idea what you're requesting."  And if I didn't have to live in the house while it was being remodeled, I wouldn't either.

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