Monday Morning Musings

Had she lived four more weeks, my mother would be 95 years old today, April 28. When she was in the hospital, the doctor joked that she was close enough that we could say she was 95, but of course that could not be her official age.

This is one of the ways I will always remember Mother. One of her favorite things to do was sketch the scenery when we were out at the lake near where she lived. My sister and I would join her in that endeavor, and we all had sketchbooks filled with pictures. My mother would also draw on letters she wrote. Sometimes a bunny for Easter, or a flower for spring, or a snowman for winter, or autumn leaves falling. I'm so glad I saved many of those letters and pictures.

Mother had a heart attack on March 24, my sister's birthday, and she died on March 28. I was able to get to Michigan the Wednesday prior, so I did have two days with her. On Thursday, she had that bloom that people often get before they are going to die. Mother was sitting up, looking good, enjoying the company, and for a little while we forgot that she was probably not going to survive the heart attack with the flu on top of that. It was a very blessed day. The kind of day that all families should have when they are about to lose someone so dear to them, especially if they make the most of it, and we did. We told stories, we sang songs, and all of the people who loved her dearly came by that day.

The following Wednesday, April 2, two of my kids, Mike and Dany, helped me sing Mother to heaven. That was a bit unusual, I know, but the church that she was connected to did not have their music ministers available. None of us thought the funeral would be right without music, so my niece borrowed two guitars from friends - one for me and one for Dany - and Mike shared his beautiful voice. We did hymns that Mother particularly liked, and it was a real bittersweet experience.

We planned the funeral service so all of the grandchildren would have a role of some kind, as that is so important in saying goodbye. Some were readers. Some were pall bearers. Some were Eucharistic Ministers. Some brought up the gifts at offertory, and one of my daughters, Anjanette, read a story she had written "Evelyn and the Blue Bunny". My mother, Evelyn, introduced me to the book Bunny Blue when I was a child, and the tattered copy of that children's book was one of the few I saved into adulthood. I then shared it with my kids, and then it was passed on to grandkids. It is such a wonderful story that we all have loved, and I'm sure my mother was smiling to hear it.

I didn't plan to share this today. Most of you know I tend to keep some things more private, but I saw the birthday card that I had planned to send her on my desk, and I couldn't stop thinking about her. It's hard to wrap your mind around anything else when it is filled with memories and your heart is a bit heavy.

A Tribute

Earlier this month I posted that there was a death in my family and that is why I would not be blogging very much. I was a bit circumspect - as that is my way - and I was not sure I would actually publicly say who died. Many of my cyber friends do know as I did share privately, but I have always had a reserve about what I share publicly on social media.

Today, however, I do want to share publicly because a dear friend did a wonderful tribute to my husband, Carl. He died September 5th while volunteering at the Winnsboro Center for the Arts where I have been so active in theatre. My husband fully supported my thespian activities, and was even known to take a small role now and then.

Lynn Adler, one-half of the singing duo Adler and Hearne, Lynn Adler and Lindy Hearne, did this musical tribute to Carl at a recent concert at the Art Center, and I just wanted to share the video here. Lynn and Lindy also sang at Carl's funeral, along with another talented friend, Shannon Monk, and their gift of music was such a comfort. Lindy did one of his original songs that he wrote with Lisa Aschmann, "Do Justice, Love Mercy, Walk Humbly With Your God" and that truly summed up a good part of who Carl was.

Here is the video, which was made by Jim Willis, another dear friend.



This next video is Lindy and Lynn doing "Do Justice, Love, Mercy, Walk Humbly With Your God."

I'll be Away For A While

There has been a death in my family, so that is why I have not put up a new post since Wednesday. I will probably be offline for the next few weeks as I adjust to a new way of life.

Remember to hug the people you love every day and tell them how much they mean to you. You never know when they will be gone.

Special Friendships

I don't often get real personal here on the blog since I don't hold with putting everything in life out in cyberspace for anyone to read, but I feel compelled to write this.

Today a dear friend called to tell me her husband died yesterday. I knew the time was close. Jan had called last month to tell me Dave was terminal and in hospice care. He was at home, on the family farm that they had taken over when his parents retired from farming, and he was ready to take that step into the other place. He believed that other place is heaven and so do I. He said he had a glimpse of it when he almost died last month.

Jan and I spent an hour on the phone today sharing about Dave and all the good times we had as couples when my husband and I would visit their little corner of the world in South Dakota. Dave had an incredible sense of humor, and Jan said she still has the joke book he compiled years ago. She said it is filed in the filing cabinet under "J". Of course it is.

The only thing that was not satisfying about the call was having to end it by both of us acknowledging that I would not be able to go up there for Dave's funeral. Jan, being the special friend that she is, told me that was okay. I'd been there with her other times when she needed me, especially through the death of her father, and her mother.

One of the things that I learned from her and her family was how to accept what life throws at you. I think farmers have an insight about that that others don't have. It is like on one side there is all the sadness and grief that comes with losing someone you love, but on anther plane is that realization that this is all so natural and so right. There is life and there is death. Period. 

Jan and I have been friends since we were 12 years old, and she and her family have been such an important part of my life. I lived with them for a few years after I graduated from high school, and then later Jan moved away and so did I. We stayed in touch - she from South Dakota and me from Dallas - but I did not see her for 19 years. When I did go visit, it was like those nineteen years melted away.

Not long after that my husband and I moved to Omaha NE and that allowed us to go visit Jan and Dave several times a year for weekends. That was always in the spring, summer or fall, and only once in the winter when we buried Jan's mother just before a blizzard hit. Those were very special years, and the years that I really got to know and appreciate Dave. He was a Vietnam vet, with some of the problems those that have seen combat carry like excess baggage, but he was also kind and generous and loyal to his family and friends. 

 So today Jan and I cried a bit together and then talked some more memories of Dave. Then she asked me what I was doing today. I told her I was getting ready to go to the comedy show at the art center. She chuckled, "Dave would like that."

Yeah, I think he would.

RIP Dave Swenson