Diamonds Are Forever

Those rings sat in a drawer for over thirty years...a reminder of a marriage and a divorce.  So many feelings when I looked at them:  joy and sadness, laughter and tears.  And they continued to sit in that drawer.

Being divorced is like experiencing a death in the family.  Emotions run wild and crying becomes a daily habit.  But time has a way of stilling those feelings.  After all these years I am able to celebrate children and grandchildren with my ex and his wife.  We go to birthdays, graduations and holiday parties at each other's homes.  They are part of our family...something I wouldn't admit all those years ago.  But I have seen the love for our kids in their eyes and also the response to our strong family ties from the kids.  It's good....all the way around.

So, for the rings....there they sat.  I decided that instead of a grim reminder of a failed marriage, I would translate them into a symbol of strength and love.  My strength in moving forward with my life.  My love for our strong family ties and each person who makes up that family.

Off I went to my jeweler.  Together we created a round silver and gold pendant.  The diamond from my engagement ring is in the center and the five diamonds from my wedding band create a circle around that center.  The circle reminds me that love has no end and that life goes around and around....good times, laughter, joy, sad times, tears, sorrow and back around again.  The diamonds serve to remind me that I am strong and can do anything.  I have the power to engage life to the fullest and I am promising myself to do just that.

I am thrilled with the finished product.  A small pendant with a large meaning.  Something I am proud to pass down to my daughter and that she will, in turn, pass down to her daughter.  A symbol of strength and courage and joy....that is, after all, what makes a family.

A Sad Farewell

I recently heard that my cousin's husband had passed away.  This really saddened me.  We weren't all that close, exchanging Christmas cards and news about our families was the only communication we had in many years.  But I was sad.  Nick was the kind of man you never forget.  I remember exactly when I met him.  I was in eighth grade and my father and I went to visit my cousin Gayle at Elmhurst College.  I think she might have been a freshman, but I'm a bit fuzzy on that point.  We went to her room in the dorm and I remember the curtains at the window and the bedspread and all of the pictures and mementos on her bulletin board.  We waited in her room because she wanted to introduce us to her boyfriend and then we would walk around the campus.  The real purpose for this trip:  my dad was pushing college, not that I needed that push.  I was already enthralled and couldn't wait until I could decorate my own college dorm room.  A knock on her door and there was Nick.  Almost shyly she introduced him to my dad, her favorite Uncle and then, to me.  I remember him as so charming, so handsome, so mature....unlike the boys I knew!  We toured the campus and I fell in love....with college and with Nick.  I saw him on holidays celebrated with my dad's family and then on Nick and Gayle's wedding day.  They were a shining couple, so in love.  Through the years we all kept in touch, meeting very infrequently.  The last time I saw Nick was at my brother's funeral.  He was an old man, but then, I had aged too.  They were both still so in love, it was plain to see.  I have never forgotten his kindness to a "little kid" visiting college for the first time.  I have never forgotten his smiles and kind words when we were together.  I have never forgotten that they came to Tom's visitation.  So, now I say goodbye to Nick.  I know those who were close to him knew him better and have so many beautiful memories of him.  Mine are few, but they are beautiful also.  I cried when I heard the news, but I also had a small smile for the man he was.  Peace Nick, and thank you.

What's In A Word?

Recently I saw "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" at the St. Louis Repertory Theater.  I thought that it would be hard to bring that wonderful movie to the stage, and no one, and I mean no one could possibly take Sidney Poitier's place.  I was right about Sidney, but the play was very well done.  One line really struck me and I've been thinking about it for several days.  In the mist of an argument with his father, John Prentice says that when you use the word "colored" to describe him, you limit him...wow!

It started me thinking that words that describe us because of race, religion, sexual preference, or gender, do in fact limit us.  Why do we need statistics that group children by race....what does race have to do with the way someone learns?  Why do we define a CEO as a woman or man....what does gender have to do with the way they do their job?  Why do we describe someone as an African American, an Hispanic or a Caucasian...what does the color of someone's skin have to do with who they are as a person?

These limiting words have limited us as human beings.  Using these adjectives cause us to ascribe characteristics to people that stereotype them.  We see the riots in Ferguson and everyone, well almost everyone, decried what "those people" were doing to their neighborhood.  Not many of us stopped to really look at the sadness in the eyes of the neighborhood people who couldn't understand what people from out of town were doing destroying buildings and businesses.  We hear of a woman CEO whose comments are called harsh and biting because, well, woman aren't supposed to be like that...soft and sweet and walked on is what women should be.  We hear the church talk about injustice but don't stop to think about the injustice that same church inflicts on women (men and children also) every single day.  We complain about the immigration problem because  we don't want our tax dollars going to educate or support Hispanics (or any other non Americans) and fail to see the good that could come to our country from educating young women and men of promise.

Limiting words....really do limit our perception of a person as an individual with talents and skills.  Limiting words...perpetuate the stereotype that has formed and reformed over the years. Limiting words...end up limiting us, the very people who use those words every day.

The Right To Protest...

The riots in Ferguson, MO are the talk of St. Louis and of the nation.  Many people reject the protesters because of the violence that has ensued.  I was right there with those who said that rioting and looting are not ways to correct a problem.  I still believe that.  But I do think the real protesters have a right that needs to be upheld.

This country is inherently racist.  I know that the Civil War has been fought and is over.  I know that a Civil Rights Act was passed and signed.  I know that all people have the right to vote, to sit anywhere they wish on public transport and in restaurants.  But I also feel that, deep down, the evil of racism still persists.  Police officers stop more African American drivers than Caucasian drivers.  When we see a group of African American kids on the street, most likely we cross to the other side.  We don't want "those" kids bussed to our good schools.  We don't want "them" in our neighborhoods.

I watched the inauguration of the first African American as President of the United States with a room full of young African American and white students at our school and had tears in my eyes as I saw the pride in their faces.  I also see how this president is treated.  Congress will not work with hm.  I'm not going to argue aptitude here, but I think there is a deeper reason....as a people, we cannot stand to have an African American in the White House.  George W Bush was one of the most inept presidents I have known in my life time.  He left the country in a mess.  But he was the object of ridicule, not vituperative statements.  We do not even show Mr. Obama the courtesy of his office.

African Americans have protested before.  Led by Martin Luther King Jr, protests started out peacefully.  When violence erupted it was caused by the Caucasians in power.  

African Americans have tried and tried to tell us their concerns.  As a people, they have cried out to us to change laws and fix problems.  We have given them lip service.  But, deep in our hearts, it will always be "them" against "us".  

It bothers me when I watch cities being destroyed and people being hurt and killed.  It bothers me when I see neighborhoods burning and businesses torn down.  It bothers me when police officers are spit at, called names and have Malatov cocktails thrown at them.  It bothers me when police officers mace the crowd or beat down protestors with weapons.  It bothers me when we create committees to talk about the problems. time and time again.   It bothers me that we cannot all see that we are all human beings, black or white, male or female and that we all have something to offer this world.  We are all made in God's image and likeness....enough said.

On September 4, 1957, armed troops of the Arkansas National Guard stood ready to prevent nine black school children from entering Central High School in Little Rock.  A crowd of white people surrounded the children and shouted abusive, crude insults at them....even threatening them with hanging, right here, right now.

This incident reminded me of bishops in our country and a Pope who all said, when asked why they permitted priests who abused children to be moved to another parish (to abuse again and again), that they didn't know it was wrong at the time.

I wonder who's buying that?  Just like those white people who hurled disgusting words and threats at high school children, those ordained ministers of God knew exactly what they were doing.  How can someone not know that harming a child is wrong, all of the time, no matter what?  How could those white people hurl insults at children because of their skin color?  How could those men allow abusers to go free to abuse again?

I guess many would say it's the times....in the 50's segregation was the norm, so it seemed to be the right way to do things.  In our time, abuse seems common.  Both of these evil actions can never be considered okay because of the times we live in...evils against children never are.

But who protected them?  A white reporter for the New York Times helped shield one of the young girls and got her to safety on a bus.  For his kindness, he was beaten so severely by the crowd that he ended up in the hospital.

Organizations like SNAP provide information on abusers, but for their concern they are humiliated by those who say they are out to get the clergy and ignored by church leaders.

I don't understand why this happens.  The church excuses it by saying "we are only human, and humans make mistakes".  This is very true.  But, most people learn from their mistakes and correct them. People with developed morals do not continue to perpetuate their "mistake" and turn a blind eye to immoral behavior.

Abusers need to be arrested and tried in a court of law.  Abusers need to be renounced.  Abusers need to be shown that we will not tolerate their behavior....whether they wear a collar or not.

To Church or Not to Church…that is the question...

I've been struggling for some time with attending church.  I've been going every week for as long as I can remember.  When I was growing up, there was absolutely no excuse for missing mass.  If you were too"sick", then you were too ill to do anything except stay in bed all Sunday.  This was particularly difficult when my mom and her sister planned an all day trip to downtown Chicago!

As an adult, I forced my children to go…I thought I was doing the right thing.  But lately I just wonder.  Why go to mass?  For the community some may say….but I know no one there.  My community has a small mass and dinner once each month and I love it.  To be in God's presence say others…but I can tell you that I feel God's presence all of the time, especially when I sit on my porch and look out to the woods.  Prayer seems to come automatically at those times…not rote prayers, but authentic talking about what's in my heart.  To receive Eucharist…I don't know what I believe here, but I don't feel differently after receiving.

On the other hand, when I go to church I am very often saddened and angry by the use of male terms for everything…even for women…the supposedly all inclusive male term is used so much that it is difficult for me to believe that these men know that we women were made in God's image and likeness also.  The liturgy is ritualized and rote.  The songs are old and ponderous.  The homilies often pointless.

I realize that this is all me at the moment…how I feel, what I am feeling.  So after much prayer and reading, I am taking a break from church.  I will go to "little church" (the gathering referenced above) because that is truly where I hear God's word and see it in action.  I don't know what I expect from this experiment, but I do know I need to do it.  I need to find out what I believe in.  I need to know why going to church brings me so little peace, while sitting on my porch surrounds me with peace and presence.

I haven't tried this experiment before because I could always hear my mom in my head…."Go to church!", she says in her very own commanding way.  But at 68 years old, I think it may be time to go it on my own.  I trust in God's love and firmly believe that God is okay with my trials and errors.  After all, I am loved unconditionally and this is something that holds me together and will see me through this perplexing time.

What Would You Do?

During Medieval times when kings and queens were dethroned regularly, the job of "food taster" was very important...at least to the reigning monarch!

Recently some friends and I were talking about our Pope, Francis, and I remarked that I prayed for him every day because I could only imagine how many prelates in the Vatican would like to see him removed from office...whether by natural or unnatural means.  My friends couldn't believe that I thought any of the ordained would do a Pope harm...no comment!  They commented that maybe Pope Francis needed to reinstate the old position of "food taster".  We laughed and then one of them asked if I would take that job if it was available.  I immediately replied in the negative.  I said that I thought my life was as valuable as the Pope's.  They disagreed totally.  They felt that the Pope's life was more important than anyone else.  That they would take the job in a second for the common good.

I don't agree.  I believe that we are all made in God's image.  Because of this, our lives are all valuable.  We may have different skill sets, but that doesn't make someone more important than someone else.  I am not saying I am better than anyone, but what I am saying is that my life is worth just as much as the next person's.  Now, if someone was in danger, and that person was the Pope, I would take action to help him, as I would for anyone in that situation and I would hope that someone would help me if necessary.  But as for giving up my life for the Pope because he is the Pope and seemingly closer to God and more important....not a chance!  We are all close to God.  We all "count".  We all have a part to play in this life.  Without one of us, life changes.  Maybe if that was shown more in our churches we would take better care of each other.  But then again, our churches "talk the talk" but rarely "walk the walk".

What do you think?  Whould you take the job?