What is a 'second" worth?

It is New Year's Eve 2008. And sometime before MIDNIGHT there will be added a 'leap second' to the clock! When young, my parents asked all of us to write a letter to ourselves. to leave it on his desk, and he would hide them for one year, to be delivered to us on New Year's Eve... I have just finished the letter for 2009, and have enveloped it and sealed... I am sitting here on the 12th floor of the towers gazing out upon the city of Melbourne, FL

i am remembering this night through the years...when Heather and Jennifer would make up menus for Phyllis and I, and they served as waitresses at our New Year's eve Party and we allowed them to stay to watch Times Square at midnight...now, the only thing that wakes us, here at the Towers at New Year's eve, is our bladders, or the bottle of metamucil...

On New Year's Eve 1992, Phyllis and I decided that the New Year could not be worse than 1992 when so many friends had died...It was at 1am when I was called, as Chaplain at the Vineyard Hospital, to respond to a family in crisis...Little did I realize as I kissed Phyllis and wished her a Happy New Year what our lives would experience in the New Year...Upon arriving at the Emergency Room I found a chaotic scene as I was told there had been a fire, and a young mother had been burnt to death...I didn't know what to say...someone asked me in the wee morning hours if it was better to know what was about to happen?

I said, that if we knew, our lives would be lived in such a way as to prevent, rather than to enjoy the moments that we had together...As I sit here with the pain from a recent stroke throbbing on my left side, I would not dare prophesy what is going to happen in 2009.. Rather, as I await the unlimited possibilities of a New Year, I ask God to bless my family, and friends, and help me to enjoy each moment of the journey...Without an end, there can be no beginning...

Christmas....2008

As I have sat here gazing at the city below, I began thinking of the wealth of Christmas memories which are mine...the excitement when I was young, of lining up to march into the 'gifts' on camera no less,,,and when my own daughters were young, and I would buy one gift for them, that was a surprise gift...It was important to me, and I hope to them.

I read Jennifer's blog from earlier this month in which she was expressing disappointment that she wouldn't be able to go to NY to Matt's family when all the family would be together, and as a preacher would do, thought of a sermon that I preached one Advent Sunday "The Disappointments of Christmas." and I thought as I read her blog how I could help make this a memorable Christmas for she, Matt, Kyra and Lucas and for Heather...

One never stops thinking like a father, so I arranged to fly to Hartford on Christmas, to surprise them, and to fly back to Florida the next day. I thought that might help them, and I would get to see them.
They had been disappointed so often as little girls, that I couldn't find more time to be a good father.
And then I recently received an email from Jennifer in which she talked about Heather's coming to Ct. and then on Christmas morning they would have driven to New YORK. Oh what a surprise I would have had calling them from the airport...

I cancelled my plans, because they had made their plans, and as it turned out, I have developed more problems with my swallowing, and so am trying to save my throat...but when I was asked, why I didn't tell them of my plans, I replied that I wanted to SURPRISE them...

I am blest with so many memories of Christmas...the Santa Claus suit which was left on the end of my bed in RI and I wore allll day with the rubber mask...the last Christmas that Phyllis was with us, and my parents had driven up...or the Amy Grant Christmas concert, that the family gave to me that I might enjoy...and of all the people who have brought Christmas into my heart by journeying into my midst... I wanted to surprise my daughters, and it was exciting to think about, even though common sense says My health wouldn't allow me to do this...but I would have.

I will sit by the window here on the 12th floor looking at the lights below...and will thank God for the Stars which have reluctantly been placed in the Heavens lighting our way to the Christ child.
May Christmas be a blessing to you, your family and friends, to a world which is waiting for Him to come...

As we draw near

as we draw near to Bethlehem

A

December 13,1970

It's hard to wait for God! That is what the days of Advent offer to us - the opportunity to wait...
For new parents to be, there are the endless questions: How do you feel? Are you ready yet? and the young mother feeling life within her tires of the questions... We had traipsed through the woods to find the Christmas tree..I broke three stands, as she directed me as to how the lights should go on.
She rose and went upstairs "to rest because tonight's the night." Though the baby wasn't 'due' until Christmas Eve, she knew better...

I worked on my sermon as the snow fell outside, and went up to bed at 12:30A.M. I had just fallen asleep and she said "it's time" I tried to convince her that it wasn't, but what did I know?? I put on my red sweatsuit, went out and shoveled a foot of snow...after calling the Dr. and I helped her out to the car...

Up until that moment we THOUGHT??? we knew the message of Christmas...as we drove through unplowed snow, there was mounting excitement...I drove home to change into my preaching clothes unable to be with her in labor or delivery room! I had just arrived back at the Hospital, when she appeared...Phyllis waited for the cry which was delayed in coming...and then the baby cried....

That was 38 years ago today when HEATHER LYNNE arrived and brought alive the message of Christmas...In those moments, we dared to imagine what joy would be ours...little did we know in that moment, what joy she, and her sister would bring to our lives...HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEATHER.
SURELY A STAR IS DANCING IN THE SKY AS WE CELEBRATE THE DAY YOU WERE BORN...

Waiting can be difficult

This year Christmas will be different...in that both of my parents have died in little over a year's time.
Yet it is the same...Memories of Christmas when I was small, and when Phyllis and I were first married, and when Heather and Jennifer were young, tumble over in my mind's eyes. Not that long ago, Heather, Jennifer and family, gave me a ticket to AMY GRANT/VINCE GILL Christmas show...they have no idea how precious that gift was to me...or the December 38 years ago when Heather was born on a snowy Sunday morning, and gave new meaning to Phyllis and I...

This year we have, as a family, much for which to be grateful...the gift, that both nana and Father gave to each of us keeps giving and giving...This year IS different, for there are so many people who are hurting...many have lost loved ones, their jobs, health Insurance, many have lost their homes...A friend said to me..."sometimes being together is the most precious gift of all..." This year I will spend Christmas Day visiting Nursing Homes, people who feel forgotten and lost...I dare to think that the most precious gift I have to offer is the gift which my parents gave to me...that the most precious gift isn't something that is bought..or what we cannot do, but rather taking a glimpse into the Heavens where the STAR still shines, bringing hope, peace, and love ...

A letter to the Editor written 11/27

DEAR EDITOR,

THE SIGN IN FRONT OF CITY HALL SAID 'COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS." THE MESSAGE MUST NOT HAVE BEEN FOR THE HUNGRY AND HOMELESS IN OUR MIDST...THOSE WHO VOLUNTEER AT 'DAILY BREAD" THE DAY BEFORE HEADLLINED ON THE FRONT PAGE OF FLORIDA TODAY THAT THE CITY COUNCIL HAD VOTED AGAINST DAILY BREAD...

ALL THIS, WHILE THEY WERE MEETING IN THE SHADOWS OF THE NEW CITY HALL, WHICH SYMBOLIZES HOW POLITICAL LEADERS TREAT "WE THE PEOPLE" WE WANT THE 'RIGHT KIND OF PEOPLE' NOT THE PEOPLE...MIGHT I SUGGEST THAT THE CITY COUNCIL VOTE TO GIVE THE OLD CITY HALL TO DAILY BREAD RATHER THAN MAKE IT INTO A PARKING LOT FOR THE PEOPLE THAT MATTER.

AS A CHRISTIAN I REMEMBER THE PRAYER THAT JESUS GAVE TO US 'GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD'1 I AM ASHAMED OF A CITY COUNCIL WHICH SEES THEIR OWN COMFORT IN THE 'NEW CITY HALL' AS BEING MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE HUNGRY IN OUR MIDST....\

COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS CITY COUNCIL MEMBERS, AS YOU HAVE LEFT BEHIND THE PEOPLE, LIKE THE HUNGRY, THE HOMELESS, THE ELDERLY, YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELVES...I FEEL ASHAMED EVERY TIME I LOOK AT THE 'NEW CITY HALL' AND WEEP.

November 22

45 years ago

Half of the people who are alive today, weren't on that day...Those who were, remember where they were, and with whom they were talking, and it was the day which changed the world in which we were living...

He was young, energetic, and brought hope to a nation which had lost those things, which made America great...we who were alive, measure life by that day...before Nov 22, and after...He was the young man who said 'EITHER WE LIVE TOGETHER LIKE BROTHERS AND SISTERS, OR WE PERISH TOGETHER AS FOOLS...'

A WORLD became mesmerized, and came to a standshill, and who can ever forget the sight of Charles DeGaulle and Haile Selassie walking on their way that day...and the eternal light which still burns...after 45 years.

November 18, 2008

He died a year ago tomorrow, this best friend of mine...I sat with him on the porch of their upper room apartment, and though he could not open his eyes or speak, he held my hand on this heart.
Both of us wept, as I read the Eulogy to him that he and I had worked on for two decades. I prayed with him his tears mingled with mine and I said good-bye to my dearest friend.

It is a year tomorrow that he died, and I miss him, but I'm happy that Mother has joined him in Heaven, and together with David...I miss his emails, his phone calls, his celebration of my birthday and of life itself... My birthday will not be the same this year...with both of them gone...but a piece of him, and of my mother remains with me...and I speak to him often, and listen to his words...which still speak to me...There is a "STAR WITHIN THEIR HEARTS' both of them, and they continue to light the way for me...as does Heather, Jennifer, Matt, Kyra and Lucas...but I miss him, my friend, my father..

ELECTION NIGHT 2008

OBAMA will become our next President...at some point later tonight, he will stand amidst half a million people in Chicago and become President-elect...Yet it happened as I sat at the computer looking out at the lights below me that I felt tears well up in my eyes...

I remembered being in atlantic city, nj with dad, at the slot machines on Election Night...and Jennifer would page me with Mr. Clinton's electoral votes...but I was there with Dad...and we shared conversation and time together...

I miss them tonight, but Especially Dad...but also my mother who died recently... I missed hearing the phone ring, or dialing up his number and would discuss the results, or I could picture him at his computer rattling off emails to me, and I would write back...at least eight or more times we would talk...

Yes I talked with Heather and Jennifer, and my brother Philip...and I was glad that they called...but I must be honest as I sat here alone in my apt. watching the returns, that my best friend, dad, and my mother weren't going to email or call...and I wept because it was on such a night as this one, a historic night that I always shall remember...and I know how grateful I am that both mother and dad, raised us to see people as people...and not as colors, or sizes...Maybe I was just feeling sorry for myself...but my tears were of the emptiness that I feel every once in a while that I can't talk to them one more time...

GAINING TIME

i didn't go to the Chapel today because the Chaplain was going to speak about the election. I wanted to think of all the Saints in my life...I was awake most of the night, as i contemplated receiving an extra hour in my life...

I can remember All Saints Day when the Organist at Church would say "are we going to sing all the verses? I said of course because there are many who have become Saints...this weekend I have thought of Phyllis, of David, of my father and mother...and I don't wish that I could go back in time, but I think of all that we shared together...and I am grateful...

I miss them but not in a morbid way...but rather with gratitude on this All Saints day...I would much rather celebrate THEM than the election...and I am grateful...

ALL SAINTS DAY

IN MEMORY OF NANA AND FATHER, WHO FROM THEIR LABORS REST

THE SILENCE

The phone hasn't rung for two days. At first it bothered me, but now it doesn't. As the eldest in the family since mother died, I sent an email asking family to remember Bette Doonan who has been part of our family for over 50 years, and I'm sorry that I sent it because I received no acknowledgement that anyone received it. Have you ever played hide and seek? I did as a Child in one game no one came looking for me...and I never forgot that experience.

I thought Last night as I sat gazing out the window, that I was having a heart attack...but didn't call for the ambulance and rather waited until the pain subsided. Family and other people are tired of hearing about how I feel =and I have stopped talking about it. When I faxed off a letter to the drs. no one acknowledged they received it, and their only response was to send more bills...

This week we shall gather to say farewell to our Mother, the matriarch of our family...I have written a Eulogy which I was going to distribute but I'm not. I shall quietly thank God for both mother and dad, that I had the pleasure of their company for all these years...I feel as though I have lost more than my parents over this year...I lost two people who listened, yes we disagreed, but we three knew we couldn't DO anything for each other...but we enjoyed each other's company...and I shall weep in silence...May they rest in peace...

FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS...

I can't count the times when I have started to call my mother...I returned from a trip to Walmart, and while there expressed disgust at all those people talking on cellphones while they were shopping, or driving...

Other than the girls, my phone doesn't ring...Someone asked me yesterday "do you feel alone now?'
I am grateful that despite their busy lives Heather and Jennifer call...and my brother Philip occasionally. I have never been a 'telephone talker' and as minister whenever the telephone rang for me, someone needed something of me. Maybe that's why the phone doesn't ring much anymore...because I don't have anything to give to anyone, and despite the fact that I have attempted to keep in touch with my siblings in our loss together...Philip is the only one who responds...
and when someone says to me "i haven't heard from you lately' I want to say my phone rings as well as yours does...but I ponder these things in my heart...I feel as though I have nothing to share with anyone...and just being me isn't enough...it was for my father and mother, but now they are gone from my sight...but never from my heart... When are we dead? is the question asked on the Internet and I wonder...

September 14, 2008

“In all the world around me
I see His loving care and tho’
My heart grows weary,
I never will despair..”

Dear Ones,

She was not “ordinary” in any sense of the word. She was not an ordinary minister’s wife, for she sought to be a person who helped others, by being an example to others. She was the wind beneath the wings, to her more extroverted husband, walking at times in his shadow, but more often than not by his side. Along the pilgrimage, she carved our her own niche which touched the lives of so many.both family and friends.

She died peacefully late this morning...at the hour when so often we were in Church. When Philip called me, through tears of love and gratitude, I remembered the twinkle in her eyes, on Thursday when she said to me "see you along the road...."

Born in Bradford, New Hampshire, growing up in Newport, she Graduated from Towle High School. She went to Simmons College, in Boston, Ma. And in later years she did some Graduate study at Columbia’s Teacher College in NY She worked at Nyack High School in the olden days of computers, and made out the class schedules, through a laborious phalyns
of IBM CARDS and huge computers/ She later worked at Katharine Gibbs Secretarial schools, headquartered in New York City.

It was over 68 years ago that she met Arthayer her lifelong soulmate. They had been involved in a toboggan accident and what a ride it has been. She felt she walked in his shadow, but in truth they walked side by side. When he was near death last Fall, he said “you will have to look after your mother now.” At which point she said for all to hear “I can take care of myself thank you very much.”

While she touched each of us in varied ways, she was a woman of faith, who along with Dad lived her spirituality and didn’t just talk about it. People of all ages found a friend in Ruth. She was a writer, a teacher, a mother, a grandmother, a great grandmother but she wasn’t ordinary! When David died unexpectedly, she put into words her emotions and her faith. Most of you don’t realize that she edited what Dad wrote. She was a musician, who with her voice or at the Organ resonated of her faith.

She enabled through her loving and compassionate care people to be all that God created them to be. She opened MISS KITTY’S in Indiatlantic, Fl which was a craft store, but was so much more – she used this opportunity to listen, and enable others to know that she was their friend.

She gave to her grandchildren a new vision of the world, taking each on a trip with her…she gave to them in particular, but to all of us her listening ears and heart. Her family found in her not only a confidante, but a friend.
Years ago she would bake chocolate chip cookies while her children waited breathlessly. In later years she encouraged all uf us to put our cares and worries in the cookie jar and let God use them.

Bradford to Celebration and all the dusty miles between that she and Father traveled have shown us all that we didn’t have to accept mediocrity, or being ordinary – but she was always reflecting the face of Jesus to all with whom she came in contact. Unlike Father she had no desire to live forever, and as good-byes and gratitude were shared, she said with her smile,
“I’ll see you along the road…..” Indeed we shall as she and dad walk together towards the Sunset…


“You ask me how I know He lives
He lives within my heart,,:
Alfred Ackley

Mother

August 23, 1969

It has been 39 years since that day - yet I remember as though it were tomorrow. On that day, both of our fathers Officiated...and we sang "Now in the days of youth, when life flows fresh and free."
I have thought today would we have married had we known what would happen in 93? and the answer is an emphatic YES. We knelt on a piece of driftwood she and I had found at Lake Otsego, on which Linda Hart had written "if God didn't create all the good things on earth, then who did?"

No two people were more blessed in two daughters who are reflections of their mother...
She looked beautiful in the home made wedding gown...and she fed me a peanut butter jelly sandwich rather than wedding cake...Our 1st Anniversary, we went to a very fancy restaurant called Woodbine College and ate dinner by candlelight...Our 10th Anniversary we took Heather and Jennifer to see the Muppet Movie, and another movie at the Claremont Drive in...Phyllis fell asleep, and Heather and Jennifer ate everything in sight.

I would like to hope that the good times out weighed the difficult moments. When she died before our 24th Anniversary, my heart broke...for our 25th we planned to go on a cruise to celebrate...a reminder for everyone that we should not put off for 'someday' Rather I got dressed up in blue blazer, white slacks. took the Vineyard Gazette and a beach chair, and sat with her as the sun set and talked about 'our day' I miss her yet I know she lives eternally in Heather and Jennifer...as I pause on this day to thank God for her...

KYRA ELISABETH TURNS 7 on August 14th

August 12

She never did like the birthday parties! Each year that we were married I planned one, most of the time having an ice cream party at the Parsonage. She made me promise in 1992, that 'this would be the last one.' and I honored her wishes. Little did we know, and I am glad that we didn't. This week I gave my Pulpit Robe to the Thrift Store. Before doing so I removed from the robe two pieces of aids quilt which I wore to remember two of the people I had walked with along their journey...
Then tears welled up in my eyes as I removed her wedding ring, which after she died I had a friend sew on the inside of my robe next to my heart...

It was another moment of remembering, being grateful, and of sharing. I have decided that I shall send it to my GRANDDAUGHTER KYRA ELISABETH, that she can put it in her jewelry box as a way of passing on her legacy of love and kindness... Tomorrow on HER day, I shall pause and remember this beautiful woman who touched my life, and who gave this world our beautiful daughters, Heather and Jennifer. Phyllis lives on in each of them...and they had the joy of having her as their mother...

thoughts late Wednesday night

In response to my last blog, my daughter Jennifer rightly suggested that I follow my inner compass!
I have been wondering since my shrink said yesterday at the end of pouring out my heart to her, "Peter you are all alone, your wife died, your father died recently, your daughters while they love you have their own lives to live, and you have many physical problems and wherever you are, and your daughter is right, you are alone." I wanted so badly to disagree with her, but I couldn't.

All of the modern contraptions are designed to tell us where we are, what to believe, etc. but all that these inventions have succeeded in doing, is driving us away from the spiritual and from God . This gives us the illusion that all we succeed in doing is our own doing. To listen to our own inner compass is risky, because it means that God might have a plan and I might agree or not agree with it, but it is NOT what I would like the results to be, but what He does.

It is also risky, because I and people like me have allowed others to tell us what to do, for so long, that they might not understand.

lost

Lately I have given thought to the GPS and other 'tracking systems' which appear in cars, or on cell phones, and I am thinking that it's difficult to get LOST in this world of today. If such existed in the days of Jesus, we would not have the parables, no lost coin, no lost son, we wouldn't have lost...
I am old enough to remember riding in the car one night with my father at 2 am from the airport where he had picked me up to drive home to Melbourne...He "knew" where he was he kept telling me, although we were lost...about an hour or so later when we came to a recognizable road, he said "i told you we weren't lost.

Throughout my life's journey I have sought to know where I was, and embarrassed to say that I felt lost. with the GPS I would always know where I was! I wonder why it is that I have depended on so many to tell me where I was...and still feeling lost...

God's plans

When my wife Phyllis died in 1993, some well meaning person said to me
"maybe she had accomplished what God had sent her to do."
Thinking of my two daughters, I objected strenuously even at that thought!
I wonder!

Vick Memorial Chapel

Pathfinder Lodge's Vick Memorial Chapel where Matt and Jennifer's wedding was held...

July 6th

The evening before Heather, Jennifer and I had dinner at the Pepper Mill...knowing that Jennifer needed lactaid I ran next door to the Victory store, and returned with TWO quarts of lactaid milk...
only to find out that Jennifer needed some of the tablets...Good old Dad!

It is fitting that we had come to Cooperstown for her marriage to Matt. Pathfinder Lodge which was the Baptist camp where Phyllis and I met, and where I had met Matt's parents. so much a part of our family's life there on the shores of Lake Otsego...it was a beautiful, albeit bittersweet day as we walked quietly to the Chapel...and there Heather, Jennifer let balloons head for the heavens in honor and memory of their mother...There in front of the altar in which was put the names of campers who had gone into the ministry or missionaries...and my name inscribed in its vault...

My heart returns to Pathfinder Lodge, often, and will today, July 6th as we celebrate with Jennifer and Matt their 12th anniversary...Happy Anniversary Jennifer and Matt...God loves you both and your new children...and Heather...and I love you all, as well...

The pathway

REPORT CARDS

In Harris School, Woonsocket. RI we used to get Report Cards (handwritten) which our parents had to sign before they were brought back to school. The last day of school we got an additional report of our year's work a white paper which said that we were Promoted: a yellow which meant that we would go to the next grade on probation, and a pink slip which meant!!!! we were young and innocent enough to know that the teacher had called the parents of the latter group.

And through the years, I have thought WHO SIGNS MY REPORT CARD? Who tells us that we are 'okay' and can go forward. I thought of this when my Dr. didn't listen to what I was saying and she was like a teacher who told me "THE BIOPSY CAME OUT FINE, SO YOU'RE FINE.' I wanted to say a lot of things, but left and entering the car, began to cry...

Someone else told me "the way you dress, I thought you were a transient living under the bridge."
I came back to my apartment thinking "you don't even know me" and you never will...

LUCAS COOPER TURNS 4..HAPPY BIRTHDAY

JUNE 21, 1970

"Father..."

This "Father's day" is different, yet it is same. This picture of my Father and mother was taken on a recent Father's Day...Having heard Tim Russert died, I started to call my Father to tell him, and then tears fell on my cheeks...but he admired Russert, and he would often ask me, who can we trust in Washington other than Russert???

I have so many wonderful memories of Father, as he would lift me high above the waves while we stood in the frigid waters at Wells Beach, Maine...or walking to the pool each evening at Greenwood Village, to keep him company while he did his health thing, and we would visit and talk. I remember him taking part in the Baccalaureate Service at Franklin College when I graduated...and preaching the Ordination Sermon THE DAY NEVER ENDS as I was ordained 38 years ago this June 21. He took great delight when people would ask if HE was my BROTHER...and in recent times since my stroke, one evening at dinner, he said to the waitress...this is my SON and I'm in better shape than he is...

I cherish those and so many memories of "my best friend", but at the same time acknowledge that none of this would have been possible without the LOVE WHICH BROUGHT HE AND MOTHER together...and as I remember Father this week, I sent flowers to Mother and thanked HER for making it possible with her own love...

But AS A FATHER, I also have such wonderful memories, seeing (and hearing) Heather standing out by Route 7 in Bainbridge, NY selling bread that PHYLLIS HAD MADE for 50 cents a loaf (which would be illegal in todays world) and she earned enough money so that she and Jennifer could buy me a new blue bathing suit...no gift was more cherished. or when they would call me on Sunday at the Office as I was putting finishing touches on my sermon, asking that I come home to have the breakfast and cards that she and Jennifer had made for me...and we would go out to lunch...
and I thank Phyllis posthumously for giving me the opportunity of this father having such caring, loving daughters. I was always too emotionally proud of them, but I was and AM. Not simply for their beauty, their academic accomplishments or their musical talents, but because they are such loving and caring young adults who remind me of all the goodness of Phyllis...

So, I have many memories which are wonderful and which I choose to celebrate this Father's Day, and three years ago Jennifer wrote a tribute on her blog to me, which I still read over and over with tears of love in my eyes. tomorrow as I cherish these and other wonderful memories, I shall wear the ribbon which Heather made for me WORLD'S #1 FATHER" which I treasure to this day...
On this Father's day I remember Dad, honor Mother, cherish the memory of Phyllis and thank God daily for blessing me with two wonderful children , a precious son in law, and Kyra and Lucas who are constant reminders of all the good in life...

:

'FATHER'

When the minister arrived, he found the man
lying in bed
with his head propped up on two pillows.
An empty chair sat beside his bed.
The minister assumed that the old fellow had
> been
informed of his visit.

"I guess you were expecting me, he said."
"No, who are you?" said the father.
The minister told him his name
and then remarked,
"I saw the empty chair and I figured
> you knew I was going to show up,"
"Oh yeah, the chair," said the bedridden man.
"Would you mind closing the door?"
Puzzled, the minister shut the door.
"I have never told anyone this, not even my
daughter,"
said the man. "But all of my life I have never
known how to pray.
At church I used to hear the pastor talk about
prayer,
but it went right over my head."
I abandoned any attempt at prayer," the old
man continued,
"until one day four years ago, my best friend
said to me,
"Johnny, prayer is just a simple matter of
having a conversation with
Jesus.
Here is what I suggest." "Sit down in a chair;
place an empty chair in
front of
you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair.

It's not spooky because he promised, 'I will
be with you always'.
"Then
just speak to him in the same way you're doing
with me right now."
"So, I tried it and I've liked it so much that
I do it a couple of
hours
> >>every day.
> >> >I'm careful though If my daughter saw me
> talking to an empty chair,
> >> >she'd either have a nervous breakdown or send
> me off to the funny
> >> farm."
> >> >
> >> >The minister was deeply moved by the story and
> encouraged the old man
> >> to
> >>continue on the journey.
> >> >Then he prayed with him, anointed him with oil,
> and returned to the
> >>church.
> >> >
> >> >Two nights later the daughter called to tell
> the minister that her
> >> daddy
> >>had died that afternoon.
> >> >Did he die in peace?" he asked. Yes, when I
> left the house about two
> >>o'clock, he called me over to his
> >> > bedside, told me he loved me and kissed me on
> the cheek.
> >> >
> >> >When I got back from the store an hour later, I
> found him dead. But
> >>there was something strange about his death.
> Apparently, just before
> >>Daddy
> >>died, he leaned over and rested his head on the
> chair beside the bed.

One who helps us remember

He was only 19 when he died! Mother, Father and I were painting the hallway in the Nyack Parsonage. At 11:45PM she felt a terrible pain in her side, and she and Dad headed to bed while I cleaned up.
It was 47 years ago, and a moment that changed our lives forever. He of the photographic mind, who could look at something, or listen to something and remember it forever. He was the Journal's Baby, and had just returned from his Sophomore year at Carson Newman. He left behind besides a family for which he was our older brother, but a young lady named Sharon, who was the love of his life.

Memory allows us to remember the awfulness of hearing the news, but also in remembering, we learn the lessons that David taught us. He wrote his last short story, dropping it by Agnes Hull's door as he left for vacation THE SHADOW which gave us understanding that God was with him, and us, in those final moments...We rushed to Newport, NY where we buried him in a quiet corner of the North Newport cemetery. Our lives were changed...

Little did we realize how far David's shadow went...or the faces he drew. He lived life, each day, to its fullest, despite the breathlessness of asthma. The twinkle in his eyes warmed many a heart...
and he was my childhood hero. People offered to help but I said "just be nearby, and share our sadness and tears." which unfortunately people aren't always willing or able to. David's death, and more importantly his living made me want to be a person, a minister, who was nearby to share their tears...This year is different - dad died in November...and yet I wrote a letter to my Mother and sent the red roses...so, it is the same...

Rest in peace David, and as Dad tells you about these 47 years, humor him, and make like you're listening...I HAVE ALWAYS LOVED YOU>>>

still remembering...

I have just watched the National Memorial Day concert...when the young lady sang "Pie Jesu." the tears warmly fell across my cheeks. She sang in gratitude and memory for all those who have fought and are fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan...I wonder if we don't, consciously or unconsciously decide what we choose to remember, and what to forget.

Memory is a gift, which at times we are the givers, and at other times receiver.

I remember...

It was in 4th Grade where I memorized my first patriotic poem
"Hats off, along the street there comes,
a ruffle of music, the sound of drums...
A flash of color beneath the skies
Hats off, the flag is passing by."
In those days we always went and sat on the curb, in front of Ida and Bessie Knox house.
And as the flag passed by we would stand and salute. We loved the parades, and as a family we paused to remember...How times have changed,,,

do you remember??

On this Memorial Day weekend I have thought about things we remember, and those things which we forget...I can remember Phyllis and I having a discussion at dinner one evening at the Stone House in Dedham where we lived on the third floor about 'memory' She asked me what the earliest memory I had? and I told her that I remembered being 3 years old and how I enjoyed sleeping on the bathroom floor! (I was destined) and she said that she could not think that far back in her childhood.

She marveled through the years how MUCH I could remember! i always thought her to be very intellectually smarter than I was. She said as we continued our discussion, that she would get an IQ test from school and we would both take it and see. I felt embarrassed when the scores on the test showed that I had a higher IQ! I fidgeted and said, I didn't believe in tests...This discussion was ongoing, as we awaited our first born child, and like all parents we wondered!!

I also wonder why it is that we learn life's lessons through LOSS or difficult moments, and not when we have succeeded or everything is going right? My father and mother have always marveled at my memory...but they had a child with a photographic memory...

Things I have learned from you Dad

Something you said to me when you were sick, Dad, I have remembered during these long days and nights. You wished that others could understand what you were 'feeling.' when you would respond to me and others "I'm fine." it was your way of telling me how sick you were feeling, but you said to me that you were tired of thinking about and talking about it." In an email written late at night, you thanked me for understanding this need.

At that time, I didn't understand as I should have, but now I do. When one "knows" the problem, one can choose to know how you will deal with this...when one doesn't know, it creates other problems, which brings to the not feeling good person, more battles. One night when I was sitting with you at the Hospital so Mother and Philip could rest, you sang in your weariness"nobody knows the trouble I've seen." we laughed and joked about that unexpected concert...but it was true.

I received from you and mother, an ability to 'listen' to what is said and unsaid...thank you for that.
Though we had our times of it...I always knew of your unconditonal love...and I miss you.. I miss hearing you tell me "i'm fine" and understand the reason why you said it...I love you...

special people at church

Where is your faith?????

Since suffering a stroke in the fall,'06, i have not felt 'well" and I have been attended to by nearly 8 Drs. They all have promised me that "I will find the problem and make you well" and when I would begin to tell them the symptoms I suffered with each day, they knew better than I. thousands of dollars have been spent on such Drs. as they all referred me to other drs. and then disagreed to the latter's actions or decisions.

I have been asked hundreds of times, 'WHERE IS YOUR FAITH???" by family and friends, to the point where I was slowly but surely losing a grip. Not only did I come to feel that I didn't have my marbles all in a row, but I have come to realize that I don't know where the marbles are!!!' Last week I had what all these Drs. agreed on, you must have this biopsy...only to be told "it was inconclusive."

One DR> even was telling people "i can find nothing physically wrong." nicely saying it's all in his head... I must make a decision - whether to keep looking for a Dr. who will listen to my words and my silences, and will not dismiss me as a nut case in this State of the fruits and the nuts.

I have found this faith, and have decided that I shall pray to the Healer, that His Will, not mine, be done...and with His Healing shall come the answer to the dilemma...It is time for me to 'walk the talk"...

Dilly's lesson

Next door to the Church in Bainbridge, NY was a Grand Union. Phyllis and I loved not having to drive to get groceries. Charlie was the manager, and one Christmas Eve he called me over to the store- he said he was going to be closed for three days, and proceeded to empty out the meat shelves in two baskets, and he said Merry Christmas...and he GAVE this to us...Phyllis and I couldn't believe his generosity.

Dilly worked at the cash register, and both Phyllis and I loved her smile. As I went over to get a few things, I asked DILLY 'How are you?" and she looked in my eyes and quickly retorted "Do you really care?" most days I can say, I genuinely cared but on this tiresome day of caring I quickly said "no I don't" and she cashed me out and I went on my way.

It is one of those questions that is asked, even if we don't care. I continue to feel miserable following an incomplete biopsy...and people don't want to ask me that question! I should wear on my t shirt "ask at your own risk" and they know that if they ask me, I will tell them...and they will wish they hadn't asked.

Dilly taught me an important life lesson - don't ask if at that moment you are unable to listen and do so LISTEN. One resident here at the Towers was more straightforward -" those look like comfortable shoes, are they size 101/2 and continued "you look like hell can I have them when you're gone?" I smiled...

the Rabbi and his student

a student sat with a Rabbi and said "i love you sir"
there was a long silence and then the Rabbi said to his student...
"do you know what causes me pain" to which the Student quickly replies...
"no" at which point the Rabbi said to the student...
"If you don't know what causes me pain, it is difficult for you to love me." SHALOM

trusting one's heart

Who 'listens' to you? All my life and ministry I listened to what people were saying and to what they were not saying. I have gone to battle hundreds of time, for people who were members of my Churches but for people in general, demanding in a positive sense that what the person was feeling was listened to...People would say "why are you doing this? and what do you expect to be the results?" But the people looked to me, because they felt that I cared for THEM, in the name of Jesus...

Last night after the stroke of two years ago, and telling dr. after dr. that there was something wrong and I told them of the fatigue, the itching, the chest pains, the itching, and they did NOT listen to what I felt and I felt as though I was overwhelmed by people who didn't care about ME...and they thought what I was trying to say wasn't true, Last night I went on a Google search for the symptoms of lymphona...after going on my own to the cancer center here in Melbourne...HE spent over an hour with me last Friday, the Director listened to ME. and I asked him what he 'thought" and he mentioned lymphoma...and he said he would walk BESIDE me through it all, and give me the medical info
and then would let ME decide...

I have a biopsy scheduled for MONDAY MORNING>>>in my google searching of the symptoms of malignant lymphoma I found about seven symptoms that I have mentioned to all these Drs. and until last Friday was listened to.. and I'm pretty sure that the biopsy will indicate that I am right in determining that I have hodgkin disease..

and it was while sitting on the Boardwalk early this morning gazing across the wide open sea...
that I deserve the same kind of concern that I shared with these hundreds of people...and I will FIGHT for Peter's right to be listened to and heard...and while i was writing this entry , i had a call from the Hospital where the biopsy is to be done, and they said I WOULD NOT be put out completely...and I told the woman, that I had been promised this...and would not have the procedure without it...and I will stand up for myself, and I miss my father, my best friend, who would listen to me and my heart...and would understand...

ROY MACKENZIE

You will never have the privilege of knowing Roy and his wife Lillian. They were in their 80's when I started ministry in Oak Lawn, RI> It was late fault and they were warning people over 80 to get their flu shots. Roy and Lillian didn't want to get flu shots, but I arrived one day and drove them after I had convinced them, to get our shots. Two weeks later Roy died...of the flu. and yours truly learned a valuable lesson in life and ministry.

Lillian said to me "I don't think that Roy wanted to get the shot..." It is easier to let others make important decisions for us, as we can blame them if things go awry. In my ministry, I listened to people, and helped them explore the options, but only so the person could make, for them , what was a correct decision for them. I never told people, after this moment, what they ought to do...even when family members or friends of the person I was talking to put pressure on me "He (she) trusts your wisdom..."

I have FIVE drs. working on my current health, all part of the same grouping, who referred me to the next Dr. and they are disagreeing with the decisions made by the next Dr. in line. In the process they have forgotten about ME...I have been saying for months that there is something wrong, but they have disagreed...and to be honest, I don't trust them anymore to give me the facts, the truth, so that I can make, what is for me, a correct decision...

I am overwhelmed...and only as I think back to Roy, and had I LISTENED TO HIM...it might have changed the outcome....

APRIL 6, 1993

I just had a phone call from Heather in Woods Hole, as she travels to the Vineyard, to spend the night with a friend. Tomorrow with tear-filled eyes she will drive to that quiet spot where Phyllis is buried.
Jennifer will spend the day with her family, and with tear-filled eyes might remember that she was playing the piano for her mother, as the latter reached out and left this earth to touch the face of God. I will observe quietly and thank God that I had the joy of being married to her for almost 24 years, and to be father to Heather and Jennifer who remind me so very much of their "mom."

She died during Holy Week 1993, her Memorial Service was held in St. Augustine's Church on the day before Easter...but her shadow encompassed, and still does, so much more. On the hot day in Syracuse, NY when we were joined in marriage by our fathers' officiating, we knelt on a piece of drift wood from Otsego Lake, and Pathfinder Lodge where we met and fell in love.

The words imprinted were 'IF GOD DIDN'T CREATE ALL THE BEAUTIFUL THINGS DOWN HERE...
WHO DID?" They were written by Linda Hart. As we pause tomorrow, unashamedly with tears in our eyes, we shall rejoice that we had the joy and pleasure in sharing daily life with one of the most beautiful creations of God. And we shall be thankful...

PHYLLIS EILEEN CASH SANBORN

I have a dream

Forty years ago Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated. I was at Andover Newton Theological School, Phyllis was at Hillsdale College in Michigan. She was on tour with the college Choir that day and they were at a concert in downtown Detroit. They performed Mozart's "Requiem" in honor of and in memory of King... the solo "Pie Jesu" was a favorite of Phyllis.

Fifteen years ago she died of pancreatic cancer, and a young singer named Patty Howell came home from college to sing the Pie Jesu in her memory...and her dream, as with King, lives on in the family who loved her and shared in her dream...

Dr. Dean

Dr. Vernon Dean of English origins spoiled Phyllis and I, in our first Church and community of Bain-bridge, NY. In the middle of the night, when one of the girls, was very sick, he would come to our home...as well as when Phyllis or I were ill. Before the day of 24 hour pharmacies or medical specialists we had Vernon Dean...little did Phyllis and I realize how blest we were, to have someone who cared ABOUT US, as people, not as a pregnancy or kidney stone.

I have a meeting at 9 on Wednesday to consult with my FIFTH Dr. to discuss his performing a risky biopsy on me. None of these Drs refers to the growth I have within me, as cancer, yet I know that the purpose of a biopsy is to discern what kind of cancer I have. Each charges over $400 per visit to tell me what they want to tell me...NONE has told me of a blood test, which can be done before a biopsy is performed, to discern whether the growth is malignant. They haven't told me, because if they did do this blood test, it just might mean that I will not need their expensive specialty.
So, the question seems to be who are these specialists concerned about? my whole being as dr. Dean was, or Peter the tumor man? The blood test may show a malignancy, but I will have arrived at this decision in the correct way...

He is risen

This is my first Easter without my father and I tried going to bed early so I could block the emptiness I am feeling. The man who baptized me in Woonsocket.RI on Easter night in 1952. He who brought alive the meaning of Easter in his and my mother's living. In a few hours, I shall wearily rise and drive across route 192 to sit in my mother's apartment with her on this, our first Easter without him by our side.

One does not visit with mother anymore, rather one sits WITH her, while she sleeps, and occasionally opens her eyes and smiles at me, and we share an understanding heart. Ringing in our ears will be the joyous Alleluias of Easter Day, of the sunrise services at Hook Mountain, the rock garden which my dad created on the pulpit in Nyack...the orange cans...the Easter Lilies, breakfast at the Aquinnah in Gay Head. In our own way we shall rejoice that it is Easter...oh she and I know all the correct words, the familiar triumphant words and music, and the meaning of believing in His Message.

She and I shall spend the day together...will talk about how much we miss him, and Phyllis and David and the others...we will feel the emptiness of his vibrant being with us, and we shall rejoice in knowing that because of Easter, and the old old story, my dearest friend, her husband of over 60 years is still rejoicing with the Lord....

HE IS NOT HERE...

On a Hill far away

As a child we had 'family council' meetings each Sunday after dinner.  Each got the opportunity to be the President (which meant giving the weekly jobs).  Most of the gatherings went smoothly, but occasionally deep divisions became visible... I wish I could have overheard the gathering in the Upper room...Jesus telling them what was about to happen, knowing in His heart that they weren't worried about His well being, but rather their own.  the tension amongst them as they went out into the night...Jesus going to have a talk with His Father...THIS IS WHAT I"D LIKE<>

The Family Table

It is Maundy Thursday, observing the Last Supper which Jesus shared with his disciples at the Family Table.  One of my regrets when Heather and Jennifer were teenagers, was that we spent far too little time at the Family Table...everybody was busy, going here and there.  Now there is a resurgence to have people gather around the Family Table...

I wonder why it is that so few people gathered around the Lord's Table during Holy Week...

Particularly the Holy week fifteen years ago, when only a handful of people came to the service to share the girls' and my grief...Maybe it's because it is NOT a happy occasion...or like that night when He gathered with His Disciples, they didn't want to hear what He was about to tell them.

I had a Dr. appt. this morning, and the Dr. told me something I didn't want to hear..

I thought of that night so long ago...and found myself humming "Beneath the Cross of Jesus, I fain would take my stand..."  and offer this news to the Great Physician...

Everybody loves a parade.

Today the Procession will start, the devout, and the curious, the people who thought themselves to be important, and the ordinary people shall begin to wend their way through Jerusalem's streets, trying to force God's hand...the politicians of that day and age, much like those of today, all were trying to claim God was in their corner...Some were bewildered, some confused, there were people who felt disappointed in this man called Jesus, because He didn't seem to be interested in what THEY thought He should say or do...

In 1993, the girls and I learned that in an instant life can change, and in a very real sense we learned that one cannot get to Easter's dawn, without standing and bearing the suffering of Calvary's Cross!  On Ash Wednesday Phyllis was very much alive in our midst, by the dawn of Easter she was with the Lord.  As the Procession begins, how can we know where it causes us to go, if we take Him seriously, and if we promise to follow Him...Where shall he lead me this week?

Endeavor

In the distance, from my 12th floor apartment, the darkness is forboding, much as the disciples must have felt as Jesus turned His sights toward Jerusalem.  Darkness of the unknown, the uncertain can be frightening indeed to those who have no faith.  I was looking deep into the darkness for the light...It is as though the 'darkness turns to the dawning' for a few seconds, as the engines fire up beneath the shuttle Endeavor, and drives it into space.

As it lifts from the launch pad, the brilliant light reminds us that amidst the darkness of uncertainty is the promise of the Light!  I am able to see the light as the shuttle rises 38 miles ab ove the earth, and then it is off into the darkness.  As one who only slept two hours last night, and has stayed up to see Endeavor, I know that losing an hour's worth of time has left me feeling uneasy.. I will get used to it in time...Last fall, as my father was nearing the sunset, I reread the book about the five people one might wish to meet in heaven.  Other than family, I have written letters and sent a book to three people whose lives have inspired me, touched my heart in a special way...  Each person who shares our journey leaves a mark, but a very few leave us feeling tremendously grateful...and it is as though we have felt and seen the Face of Jesus Christ and felt His compassion in them....

WOW.  ride on into the unknown Endeavor and thanks for the Light...

Endeavour

If only I had known...

A parishioner once asked me, 'is it better if one knows what surprises God has in store for us, and would it make a difference how we reacted?"  I couldn't sleep last night, staring out my window until after two.  Fifteen years ago this minute, in an empty Gray lobby I was on the phone frantically trying to locate Heather on the Vineyard before she heard from a stranger Dr. Warshaw's words that her mother was dying...I knew that Jennifer was on her way  from Eastern College, with friends who I had called when I had a premonition.  I was hoping that she would not call and ask how things were going...(she didn't)

I had two thoughts, as hearing footsteps coming across the slate floor.  what is the Dr doing out here, if I had known...and secondly , when Heather and Jennifer were young, and a doll or other toy would get broken, Heather would say 'wait til daddy gets home, he can fix anything."

I started to feel tears in my eyes, as I asked the Dr. "What do I tell our daughters, for whom She was their heroine, their confidante that she is dying, and Daddy can't fix this...

Fifteen years ago and tears once again well up in my eyes, as I realize how when life came crashing down around us, if only I had known...God knows that it is best that we don't.

reflecting on a day seemingly so long ago, yet not so, on a day when the sun refused to shine.  

Remembering...that which is important

There are certain moments, certain people which are as real today as when we experienced the moment or the people.  I sat here most of last night by my window looking down from my 12th floor apartment at the city's lights below.  I sat here mesmerized by the fact that it has been 15 years on Thursday of this week that the girls' and my lives changed forever.  

I can remember that day as though it were today, recounting each moment, each person, just as I recall the morning 47 years ago this June 2 when my father came to tell me that my 19 year old brother had died.  Many there are, who when they have a loved one die, live under the philosophy "out of sight out of mind."  I have sought these 15 years to keep Phyllis spirit alive for Heather and Jennifer, as well as myself NOT because I felt I needed to, but rather because I wanted to do so.  We live in an age when people take for granted, or forget those people who have helped them be the people they are.  

I have sought each year to share with Heather and Jennifer, something that she would have liked, each year at this time.  It is important to me, that I share with Kyra, Lucas and others the story of Phyllis and the gifts she brought into our lives...In that way, I try to keep her spirit alive in my daily living.  I used to worry about her health; even though they are grown, I still worry about Heather and Jennifer.  I worry too much!  but this is ALSO concern and respect for those whom we love, have loved.  

I have been thinking lately of what mark I shall leave behind...and have decided that it is that I have always remembered those who have touched my life...not taken them for granted.

Where does time go?  have YOU remembered that this Saturday night we LOSE an hour.

Cherish each moment we have...

MY MOTHER AND I...

I drove to Dr. Philip's Hospital this morning, on what has become for me a wearying journey of 70 miles each way to Celebration.  My mother was on the commode, and she apologized, but then mumbled 'how fitting."  My sister in law who has been with her in the Hospital stepped outside the room for a few minutes...

Mother took my hand and placed it on her heart, a wearying smile on her face, as she spoke softly "thank you for understanding Peter"  she went on to say how she was thankful that dad had died before seeing her like this "he wouldn't understand" and he would not have.  He would have been like a cheerleader at the Homecoming Game urging her to fight harder to live, and not give up;. 

She grabbed my hand tighter" you don't think I'm giving up do you?"  

I said that no, I didn't feel that way, that I understood how, after almost 91 years and miles and miles traveled, that she was tired...at which point she fell back asleep. clutching my hand to her heart.  I prayed with and for her asking God, however He chose, to grant her peace.

The selfish side of me would have spoken differently, but the weary smile from her eyes to mine as I rose to leave and kissed her hand and cheek spoke the language of silent gratitude from her son...How blest my life has been having my parents, having Phyllis, Heather, Jennifer, Matt, Kyra and Lucas...

Listening as a "gift of love"\

When I awoke this morning I felt 'rested" so decided that I would try and drive over to Celebration to visit my 90+year old mother.  I usually have someone drive me over, as I feel nervous driving that far.  I did the 60 miles in 2 hours(can you imagine the line of cars behind me wishing I didn't drive the speed limit) NOT to VISIT with mother, as those days are gone.  

I thought as I gave her a hug and kiss. of all the times when she and dad would VISIT with those who came by...as Phyllis and I would drive down from the north on this weekend each year.  Mother has lived a joy-filled life, along with my dad, made the world a nicer place because of their compassion and warmth.

I "listened" as she talked weakly about how worried she was about ME, and then listened to the sound of her breathing as she slept in her wheelchair,  We don't like quiet - we feel we have to say something, anything..

but listening to what a person SAYS, as well as to the SILENCE is a gift of love we share.

She would awaken, see my face smiling at her, and she squeezed my hand and fell asleep again...

She got confused and upset about a couple of little things...but I just held her hand.  What I 'heard' during the 90 minute visit was that she is weary, and she doesn't have the "fight" that dad had to go on...

she knows her life has been filled with love and family, and faith, but she is tired..and that is okay.

Lots of people would avoid such moments selfishly wishing that it was 'like it was."  but as I listened to her words as I hugged and kissed her when leaving.."don't worry about whatever happens to me, Peter"

and as she closed her eyes to sleep, I knelt by her recliner, and held the hand of this woman, my mother, who gave me the gift of life, and as I got up to go, I whispered that I would come back soon...to sit by her side...my father was my best friend...and I miss him terribly, and my mother has been the rock of faith and I am more than honored to spend moments of gratitude and silence in this way...

Valentine's Day 2008

This day for the last 15  years has been difficult for me!  Society says that it is a day for 'lovers'  those people who exchange jewelry,  cards, flowers, or candy, and a meal spent together  I am thinking of my Mother today alone on this day after 68 years..I had hoped to go visit her today but she wasn't feeling up to a visit.  I DID send flowers from the family and I.  She has told me via phone how beautiful they are, as she gazes upon them she thinks of us...

I always tried to remember to send flowers to Phyllis and the girls...except one year when I got so busy working Psychiatry floor at Bassett Hospital and ministering to a church nearby..that I forgot.  So, I sent flowers to them on President's day instead.  I have changed my views of this day as these years have passed moving from a feeling of loneliness, to solitude.  Oh, I still send cards to the girls, Matt, and Grandchildren...and a couple of other cards.  I regret the mistakes I have made in the past, not spending enough time with loved ones, but I rejoice that God gave me the gift of listening to Him, to others, which is in itself a gift of love...  God loves you.so do I.

One more intuition about medical care...

While visiting with my mother on Friday in her new l bedroom apartment...I answered a call from her Dr. (one of them) it was a taped recording reminding her of her appt. today and then adding "if there is balance due bring it with you so we can care for you."  My father who had the same Dr. hated that message, the implication being we can't care for anyone who is not paid in full..."  Oh, to call for the ambulance to take me to the Hospital from Trinity Towers West where I live (less than a mile) costs $500.00  Needless to say I will hitchhike.  Health care in this country is nonexistent, unless we can show them the money... Walgreen's Pharmacy recently sent residents here that medications will no longer be delivered (takes two hours a week) because we are 'NOT COST EFFECTIVE"  Nice mood I am today...and the Dr. tells me 'not to worry'...seems like the REAL DR. once said it as well...Shalom

The Healing power of ???

What makes you sick?  the list seems endless!  I am reminded of the man in the Bible who has friends bring him to the pool day by day...I've been thinking a lot lately about sickness - as I have struggled with this and continue to do so.The list as I said goes on and on:  politics, the daily musings of murders in the community, the traffic, the gossiping neighbor, and the list of physical ailments...  I read this week of the death of a woman on the Vineyard who lived up Spring Street from Phyllis, Heather, Jennifer and I.  She appeared on the front porch one night with her youngest daughter, both had been crying...

Their son and brother was near death ...and they came, even though they didn't go to Church because they had "heard" about the caring I had shared with Joel Counsel who had died recently.  They had heard that I was the only one who had visited him in the Hospital and that unbeknownst to me, I had driven him from the PO up to town and then dropped him off at his home...When the fire alarm sounded 1/2 hour later it didn't dawn on me...

Joel had gone into his home, poured gasoline all over himself, and burnt to death...He , like Tim, had Aids but by burning to death he didn't become "one of those..."  I went with Judy and Stacy to visit Tim, and prayed with them, and when he died I , like I did with Joel, did his funeral at the graveside...  Some of the well-meaning Baptists and other Christians asked of me "why do you do this? aren't you afraid you will catch it?"  I asked of them a question that is heard too much these days, but understood so little...'WHAT WOULD JESUS DO?"  

I am caught between a rock and a hard place...since having the stroke I have been on what has been called 'life saving medicine."  Each of these medicines that I take 'to keep me living" have side effects which are perilous to my well being.  One Dr told me "you are depressed."  My psychiatrist disagrees...another's answer was to punch into his laptop computer prescriptions for more medicines which add to the problem...the oncologist suggests that I see a gastroenterologist, and then this Dr. and that Dr.  (it goes without saying that each of these will find something wrong in their particular area) 

I wonder...if any or all of the medicine is helpful at all?  except to support a health industry which has run amok.  I mean, what will all the cancer Drs. do if they find a cure for cancer????  Might be they would have to drive a Ford instead of a Lexus...  Don't get me wrong...I think that some medicine IS beneficial, but not much, not all.  I am facing a difficult decision...a biopsy of a growing mass is too risky...yet I am told that no surgeon will operate without the biopsy... I asked the Dr. what do you know that I don't?  when the reply was 'nothing', I decided that I would step back and pause and listen to the Great Physician...either way I will find healing...

Anticipation...

It hardly seems 35 years ago, but it IS.  Heather had flown to Florida with my parents!  It was cold and snowy in Bainbridge, NY.  Though Phyllis had started dilating early in the week, I was convinced that we would go BEFORE Sunday.  Sunday morning at 6:00AM as my alarm went off Phyllis said 'LET'S GO"  I had arranged (just in case) for a Substitute Preacher - and off we went. 

In the middle of the Worship hour, JENNIFER LYN arrived to join our family...and I called the Church to bring the Good News...how times have changed.  Nowadays, fathers are allowed to stay with their wives at the Hospital...I was allowed into the delivery room, and then ushered out only with the support of Dr. Porcarelli, and much to the nurse's dismay...

Little did Phyllis and I know on that blustery Sunday morning, that we would be truly blessed in having two beautiful, talented, compassionate daughters, but we shouldn't have been so surprised through the years considering who their mother was...Jennifer, surely a Star is dancing in the Heavens as we celebrate this day you were born, and you and your sister Heather remind me so very much of the wonderful person that your mother was...  Happy Birthday!!!