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...