"A Christmas Interloper"

How many years had it been? Well over thirty by Emma’s own account. Many life events had occurred in that period of time ~ years of college, graduate and post-graduate study; the eventual Ph.D; the beginning and establishment of a long and successful career; love found, love lost; love found again; marriage; and in recent years, the death of a beloved spouse. Yet, all along the way, much happiness and laughter, albeit sprinkled with times of adversity and sorrow. All in all, however, a very good life. One might even say a rich, full, and rewarding life.

But thirty years!?! What would he say? Better question, what would she say? Even with these and many other thoughts whirling around in her mind, she decided to do it. This time she listened with her heart, and not necessarily her head. This time.

After about an hour of research on the Internet, Emma found an address and a phone number that seemed likely. She mentally went over her short introductory speech that included several “what ifs”: What if he hung up on her? What if he cursed her? (After all, he had a right to do so.) Worst of all, what if he didn’t remember her? While these scenarios played out in her overactive imagination, what she really thought was, “Who cares? I’m going to call him.”

It was Saturday night around 7:30 p.m. As she dialed the unfamiliar long distance number, she was thinking, “He’ll probably be out. Or he may be at home with his wife. I wonder if he’s still married?” If so, the conversation would be very brief, as she assured herself, “I’m not going THERE!”

“Hello?” The voice was low and soft, as if the person had just woken up from sleep or a long nap.

“Hello. This is Emma. Emma Carson. (Silence.) You may remember me as Emma Long.”

It took a few seconds, but the recognition was there. And then …

They talked and talked – for well over an hour. It was a comfortable, easy talk. Just questions about life, work, the usual things. “Do you remember…?” “Whatever happened to …?” It was fun playing “catch up” for a while.

No, he was no longer married. (WHEW!) Divorced. Apparently the wife had been a “piece”. Emma shared a bit concerning the loss of her husband. They each talked of some health issues. Their very conversation seemed to breathe an air of mutual sympathy and caring.

After hanging up, she felt she’d done the right thing. Just checking up on an old friend. Well, maybe slightly more than an “old friend”, but that’s what it felt like: a visit with an old friend.

The next day was church. As Emma listened to the pastor, he talked about the service they’d have on Christmas Eve. He asked the congregants to consider inviting someone to church who might not otherwise have a place to worship. Emma immediately thought of him. But calling again? So soon?

“Wanna go to the school dance with me? Huh? Huh? Pretty please?!?”

NO!

Way too junior high school-ish.

YIKES! Double YIKES!! Triple YIKES!!!

Being a very resourceful woman, she did the next best thing: she wrote one of her highly articulate letters. A concisely conceived, yet warm and inviting letter explaining about the service and asking if he’d like to attend.

“I’m writing this to give you more time to think about
what I want to ask you. I thought about asking in
a phone conversation, but felt that might be awkward.
No expectations, no pressure. Just one nice, good,
friendly person asking another nice, good, friendly
person to a worship service.”

After mailing it, she thought about how all this might seem to him. After all, it had been over thirty years. Would he consider her to be an interloper into his life? While the phone conversation had gone well – each expressing enjoyment of it – inviting him for a visit was quite a different thing than picking up the phone for a chat.

At this point, all she could do was to wait for his response. Sooner hopefully than later, Emma would discover if she were a Christmas Interloper. With fingers crossed, she hoped that, if so, she would at least be a welcomed one. After all...this is the Season of Miracles.

A Season of Gratitude

I'm going to dedicate this blog entry to things/people for which I am grateful. Happy Thanksgiving!

Things for Which I am Grateful

in No Particular Order

• a sister's love


• the ability to learn


• good books to read


• friends with strong shoulders to lean upon


• a warm home and food on my table


• Domino, my beloved Chihuahua

"Gratitude is when memory is stored

in the heart and not in the mind."

~ Sam Hampton

Certain Things...

There are certain things I can no longer do. Let me rephrase that. There are things I no longer want to do. Some of these things include listening to certain pieces of music, going to certain places, and being with certain people.

Allow me to explain.

I married my college sweetheart in May of 1980. We met at Southwestern University where we were both music majors and, as such, had many classes in common. We studied music literature, music history, and music theory together. We even took a piano ensemble class together and frequently played four-handed music together. One such piece was a Brahms Hungarian Dance.

Music
Listening, as I often do, to WRR Classical 101.1, this morning I heard that same Brahms piece. In a “flash back” moment, I was abruptly snatched from the present, and hurled back in time when Tim and I played this composition in that piano class. Then, almost as suddenly, I was in a “fast forward moment”, remembering when we reprised that same piece for a concert we were doing together – many years since first learning the music in that piano ensemble class.

The memory was fresh – as if it were yesterday. As lovely as the piece was then and is now, I slammed my hand against the on-off button of the radio and drove the rest of the way to work in silence.

Places
This year – 2009 – marks my 30th reunion from Southwestern. I have several friends who graduated with me. Though Tim did not graduate that year (he was a year behind me in school), he was an inseparable, woven-into-the-very-fabric-of-my-body part of my time at SU. The thought, however, of going back without him is unthinkable, unspeakable, and undoable to me. There are too many tender memories in the buildings, the halls, in the nooks and crannies of the Fine Arts Building, in the campus itself for me to be able to go back without tears. Not only would the memories of us as students haunt me, but also of the times we attended other reunions (our 10th), and of the times we drove through campus -- making that slight detour off of I-35 – as we drove down the interstate. It’s too sensitive. It’s too fragile. I won’t be attending my 30th reunion.

People
During our life together, we met and made many friends – lifetime friends – or so I thought. But when death comes, it doesn’t just take your beloved. It can also take or change other relationships. Suddenly you go from a couple to a single. The dynamics in relationships change. One such relationship has succumbed to this fate.

While I am happy for this couple, for their togetherness, and the fact that they have a strong and vital marriage, because there are so many memories of us/them, it’s somewhat painful to be with them. I know they sense it, too, but we’ve never spoken of it aloud. It’s too sensitive. It’s too fragile. The relationship is not exactly lost, but it has changed, altered, shifted. In short, there’s a big hole. That hole is Tim.

In a loftier and truer sense, however, the relationship IS lost. You can never have exactly what you had before; therefore it is lost.

“Time stops for no man,” is true, especially in the grieving process. Death comes. You grieve – hopefully in a healthy way and you “get better”, whatever that means – but when you finally drag your head up from your grief, time has marched along and you are several years, maybe more, behind everyone else. Some things have changed. You no longer look at the things the same. You can’t. Music, places, people are different and you must start to redefine yourself by your current set of circumstances.

It takes time. It’s not fun to have to “re-compose” one's self. It’s hard. It’s painful. It’s scary. It’s lonely. Yet, it starts to happen. Slowly, maybe. Or perhaps in larger spurts. But it does come – if you’re lucky, if you have enough prayers said on your behalf, if the planets all line up, and if the stars are in your favor.

Birthday Month

"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me..."

Yes, this is my birth month. October 26, to be exact. I'll be 52 a week from today. I was asked by a co-worker today how I would celebrate it. Actually, I've not thought of anything yet. It's not like it's a "special number". The special number was two years. On my 50th birthday, I was playing for the funeral of a dear friend's mother. Doesn't seem possible that Miss Norma has been gone two years...

Tim's birthday was last Wednesday, October 14. He, too, would have been 52. A friend knew this to be Tim's birthday and asked me, "How are you going to handle it?"

"Same as I've handled it for five years." But it seems to be different every year -- the feeling of loss. That feeling ebbs and flows -- just as life does. Another friend simply emailed me on Tim's birthday and wrote six words: "With sweet thoughts of Tim today...". Very meaningful. Thank you, Brenda.

It's not that I'm against celebrating, I just don't think I want to do anything very special. Besides, it falls on a Monday, and I'm not usually up for anything "big" on a work night. At my age and stage of life, if I want anything, I will have to arrange it. Seems like too much work.

Actually, what I'd like to do is to plant pansies in my garden. Miniature pansies. The purple and yellow variety. Pansies are the "flower of thoughtful reflection". What a lovely thought. I like the idea of planting pansies in October and thoughtfully remembering my friends who also have birthdays in October -- and indeed, all of my friends. Maybe Saturday would be a good day for that...

To all my October Birthday Buddies: Mom, Tim (who are now both deceased), Sarah, Sandy, Ben Scholl, Ben C., my friends at work, James, Mary Beth, Ryan, Grant, Sherri, and Sharon ~ ~ ~ "Birthday Blessings!"