Decoration Day

In case you missed it, Pioneer Woman has a beautiful post about their family cemetery. I cried.

My parents always called this day "Decoration Day", the Ozarks custom of decorating the graves of loved ones. Thanks to my parents' thoughtful remembrance of their ancestors, I have fond memories of several family cemeteries in southeastern Missouri. I've dragged my kids to as many as I could find but it's been a long time since we've been to the farthest and I feel another trek in the not-too-distant future.

Around here, we occasionally visit the graves of departed dear family in country and small town cemeteries. Terry's Dad was laid to rest last week (after cremation) in the largest of these. Years ago when I worked at the nearby hospital, I walked in that cemetery on my lunch hours. The Catholic cemetery is on one side of the main entrance and the Protestant cemetery on the other. Smile. Ironically, I've always preferred the Catholic side. Big smile.

We spent the afternoon yesterday at Terry's sister's house, where his Mom now lives, in a very small town thirty minutes from us. We grilled and ate outside on their roofed back porch. It rained lightly most of the afternoon and we didn't mind a bit. We told stories about his Dad and other departed family and enjoyed being together. Luke was the only young'un with us and he heard some R-rated family stories for the first time.

I realized in church yesterday I will be away from home the next four Sundays. Terry and I are traveling to a family wedding weekend in Memphis this Friday. I will be going to St. Louis to stay with my Dad for almost two weeks after that, while my stepmom attends her grandson's graduation in California. Then after a brief few days at home, Terry and I will be going to Lake Tahoe and Los Angeles for a week, for a business conference and visit to my stepdaughter Jennifer's new house. Whew! For this homebody, that schedule will be a bit of a challenge but I know it will bring countless opportunities to see new things, hear new stories, face new sacrificial moments. God is good.

What are your summer plans?

Blessings,

Sandy

Comment Alert

There is a fascinating exchange in the comments below that you've all most likely missed. I wrote a post about it and lost it in Blogger cyberspace. For now, enjoy the exchange. I know it won't thrill all of you as much as it thrilled me, but it's still pretty darn cool.

Off to teach for the morning.

Blessings,

Sandy

How does your garden grow?

Yesterday, I planted our first real garden in nearly ten years. A few weeks ago, our farmer neighbor used his gargantuan plow/disk to turn up a small garden plot (about 12 feet by 30 feet)for us. Then it rained for days on end and we couldn't get back to the garden to till and plant. We bought a new tiller this spring and couldn't wait to fire it up. It worked great!

I was able to till the garden four or five times and then raked the soil smooth. Cassie and I planted 10 sweet potato plants (given to us by a friend who bought too many), zucchini (one plant will provide enough for the neighborhood), yellow squash, sweet red peppers, Anaheim chilies, jalapenos, twenty-four tomato plants including Arkansas Traveler and Rutgers (both heirloom varieties) and Early Girl (tomatoes in 50 days--July 10!). Today, I will plant seeds for the rest of the space: sweet corn and pole beans. I'm going to interplant the beans with giant sunflowers. The twelve foot tall sunflower stalks should act as trellises for the beans. It will be fun to see if it works.

We've planted more flowers and put out more bird feeders this year and the yard is filled with birds: cardinals, morning doves, yellow finches, indigo buntings, orchard orioles, ruby-throated hummingbirds, and red-headed woodpeckers. We've even seen a bluebird a few times. Summer in the country. Ahhhh.

Place-ness, reprise

The Hannah Coulter Book Club for Copycats discussed Wendell Berry's ideas about place here and I wrote about it previously here.

Last night, Luke and Cassie went to town to see friends. Terry and I went to bed but I was awakened at about 12:20 a.m. by thunder and lightning. I quickly texted the kids to see where they were and got this reply from Cassie.

Luke's driving. We are passing where webb took his first steps. Lightning but no rain where we are. Love you!

"where webb took his first steps" is family shorthand for a particular house on the highway about three miles north of us. Webb was Terry's uncle Webster, who died in 1991 so neither of my kids knew him. Actually, I never met him because he lived in California. He came home to visit the family and saw six of his seven brothers the day he arrived. During the night, he had a massive heart attack and died. Anyway, the house where he took his first steps was pointed out to us by Terry's dad in a rare trip down memory lane, five years after we moved here. The house was completely remodeled a couple of years ago and a young family now lives there. Webster was five years younger than Terry's dad, who had clear memories of watching his little brother take his first steps when they lived in that house.

Other landmarks on our trip home include, "the house where the barn across the road fell down", "the old propane tank storage place", "the creepy empty house on the corner", "the house with the scripture signs in the yard" and the "junkyard by the toll bridge."

Blackberry Winter

Yesterday as I mowed the very tall grass, I noticed the wild blackberry bushes around the perimeter are blooming. "Blackberry winter!" I recalled my neighbor Dot telling me about it years ago. After the blackberries bloom, there is usually one last blast of cold weather and the old-timers called it "blackberry winter."

Our cold weather blew in last night with a lot of rain, lightning and thunder. Just now, the morning weather guy mentioned frost warnings tonight for North Dakota.

Blackberry winter. I love country living.

Comfort

When Grandmam died in her time in the spring of 1944, and we gave her to her rest at last in the graveyard at Shagbark and heard the beautiful psalm spoken over her, it seemed almost too orderly and natural to be sad.

Wendell Berry, Hannah Coulter

Berry's words bounced around in my head over the weekend. His ideas about death, written throughout his fiction, brought me great comfort when I read them last summer. Death at the end of a long life is natural and fitting.

Terry's family gathered yesterday and we all enjoyed the great comfort of being together with those we love. Terry's mom played the piano only briefly and her sisters sang the old hymns from their days as a traveling gospel trio in their long-ago youth. Tears flowed and hearts ached as all undoubtedly reflected on the fleeting nature of our lives on earth. How many more times will the three of them sing together?

Terry's Uncle Preach, a retired pastor, spoke one of his beautiful prayers before we shared dinner. Again, tears flowed from him and us and comfort followed.

Friends arrived throughout the day bearing food and cheer and we were humbled and comforted. My favorite church ladies will be serving dinner after the funeral today and we will all be blessed.

God is good.

The Long Goodbye

Terry's dad died at 6:30 yesterday morning. We thank God that he is now at peace and pray for his soul. The family believes God was so merciful in allowing Dad several extra years to enjoy his family and to surrender himself to the Lord.

God's timing is perfect. Cassie returned home from college on Thursday. Luke will be home early Monday morning, in time for the funeral Tuesday afternoon. While I wish both kids could have seen Grandpa one more time, they enjoyed nice final visits--Luke at the end of Christmas vacation and Cassie on Easter Monday.

We spent about an hour in the hospital room saying goodbye to the body that no longer held Dad's soul. At the end of that hour, a sweet angel RN who is a friend of my sister-in-law asked if she could pray with us. She had visited Dad and prayed with him a few times and assured us all that he was heaven-bound. Her prayer specifically asked for peace for Terry's mom and that peace fell on the room immediately and stayed with us all, especially Terry's mom, the rest of the day. God's grace is amazing and I am so thankful for the peace that passes understanding.

Requiesat pacem, Mr. C., April 15, 1928--May 8, 2009. He leaves behind his wife of 62 years, three children, seven grandchildren and one great-grandchild.

Faith and Baseball

Whilst avoiding my chores for the day, under the guise of reading and eating lunch, I came across this wonderful post on forgiveness at The Anchoress. (Note: she's changed addresses, as updated on my blogroll.) This sentence, tangentially related to the topic, tickled me:

I love the life of faith. I love baseball. Sometimes, I hate them both because of how much I love them.

Off to tackle the day's work.

Journal of a Substitute Teacher, Spring

Lots and lots of teaching this semester. Most of it in the nearest district, which I've learned to love. Equal parts high school, junior high, elementary. Very few discipline problems, thanks be to God. Several memorable teaching moments, the most recent of which I'll share.

Last week, I was in the same fifth grade class two mornings. Friday morning, the kids were working on a worksheet identifying groups of things. For example, one group was lemon, lime, orange. They were to name one more thing and identify the group. Kids these days don't know about citrus fruit.

Two of the groups were President's names. The first group contained Republicans and the second Democrats. None of the kids recognized the difference. We were discussing the answers and I attempted to explain why "Obama" was not a correct additional item for the Republican group, only the Democrats. One student, the only African-American in the class, raised his hand and said, "A lot of people keep telling me that Obama might be assassinated by a racist."

Gulp. Pause. Tough questions aren't in the substitute teacher handbook.

I answered, "isn't it a shame that we have to even think about that?"

Another student raised her hand, "I'm a Republican and don't agree with Obama on most things, but that doesn't mean I'm a racist."

Gulp. Sputter. Check my diplomacy skills and make sure my personal opinions don't take center stage.

"No, of course it doesn't. Most people who did not vote for Obama did so because of political beliefs, not race."

On the opposite side of the worksheet was a list of common abbreviations, including CPR. All the students knew what CPR was, but none knew the words "cardio-pulmonary resuscitation". I wrote them on the board and explained that resuscitate means to revive. One student raised his hand and said, "isn't that what God did on Easter?" He corrected himself. "Oh, no, that was resurrect. Aren't they kind of the same thing?" I explained the difference. He asked, "How did God come back from the dead?" My reply? "It was a miracle." Whew. Don't anyone tell the ACLU.