Last spring I walked almost every morning for about half an hour.  I
started out easy but met my goal of walking to Bellwood Lake which is
in our development.  I reached my goal and continued the walk to the
lake and then to Bell Rd. before returning home.
This routine enabled me to dance, dance, dance at my grandson,
Matt’s, wedding in N.C. the end of July.  I had a ball and a wonderful
wonderful time.  However, it was extremely hot there so there was
little walking in the sun.  We had a very hot August followed by a
very rainy September and I procrastinated putting my walking on hold.
Now, I am looking forward to being with loved ones in Gainesville for
Thanksgiving weekend and need to rebuild my stamina to keep up with
the activities.  Hopefully, Claire and Ian’s twins will be around six
weeks old and a joy to hold.  Yvonne and I are flying so as to have
more time with loved ones – son, Wes, daughter-in-love, Deb, Claire,
Ian, Malik, Leila, grandson, Matt and granddaughter-in-love, Katie.
Hopefully, will get to see Matt’s and Katie’s good friend, Chris, his
wife, Jessica and their daughter, Ella (I danced with him at the
reception and Ella was the adorable flower girl.)  When it was time to
leave, my son, Wes went for the car and Jessica thoughtfully guided me
through a grove of saplings in the gathering dusk to meet him.
So, this week has been absolutely beautiful, especially for October!
Temperatures during the days in the seventies and the nights no lower
than fifty.   Still, I put off getting back to walking.  Well, this
morning, I finally bit the bullet and upon waking dressed in
comfortable clothes and started out.   I had gone about a block and a
half when my neighbor, Fran, came walking too because she said, “There
goes Jo.  If she is walking, I should too.”   We hugged and chatted
for quite a while.  I shared about the wedding and the twins and she
shared about the preparations for her daughter, Emily’s wedding.  Love
her; hugged and she went her way and I continued on toward home.
Walked to Bell and as I was returning, met other neighbors, little
Asher, who is couple months older than Jaydin, his dad, Eric and
mother, Kelly walking their dogs and we exchanged greetings and a bit
of talk.   I had walked past my house and turned around when George
and Liz (neighbors I have known for over thirty years) stopped to
tease me about chatting with Fran.  I told them that “my” twins will
be arriving soon.  They have five year old twins (boy and a girl) and
were on their way to watch them play soccer.

God has blessed me with such a wonderful family — I could write a book just about them (maybe I will),  siblings and their spouses,  good neighbors and friends.    My children and grandchildren keep in touch via phone and emails. What fun to talk with Yvonne when she spent a few days in Montreal on business.   A beautiful start to the day to have Wes call and say he misses me;  and later to have a long, beautiful talk with Deb and Wes reminding me of their love and goodness to me.     Phone call visits with Chris and Leanne bring me up to date on what’s happening in Pennsylvania and also reminds me of our bond of love.    How I appreciate the long newsy emails from Beth who is so busy with a rambunctious  fifteen month-old granddaughter !    Beth and I share a love of reading (among a lot of other things) and she is often most helpful in editing my columns.     It is always fun to be with Matt and Tina – most often when he helps me around the house, he will stay and chat and have a beer or two with me.   I treasure the trips to Middlefield with Tina as we always have a ball!   All of them are surrounded by an aura of love and add so very much to my life!   I could fill another whole book with stories of my grandchildren who lovingly keep in touch with me, make it possible for me to visit and to visit me.    All of my children and grandchildren are precious stones in an invisible necklace that I wear and the great grandchildren are like little diamonds among them.     I treasure the moments when I can be with them — perhaps playing with Play Dough or reading to them!

I am blessed to have five sisters and two brothers-in-law all living locally.  We treasure the times when we can meet for lunch often to celebrate one of our birthdays.   These are always times of laughter and love.   Most recently, on Friday, June 18th Laurie, Mary, Judy, Cheryl, Linda, brother-in-law, Ron, and I met to celebrate Laurie’s birthday which was earlier in June.  We are truly blessed.    Judy has invited us to her campsite to celebrate Mary’s birthday which is July 24.

Often in my thoughts and prayers are a couple of cousins, Aud Roberts who is visiting her daughter Pam and son-in-law, Dave in Alaska and Audrey Alten who is actually my mother’s cousin but a five months younger than I am!  I keep in touch with Aud in Alaska with phone calls and cards; I keep in touch with Audrey in Ohio mostly via email.    I have so many happy memories of time spend with Aud and of the many letters, phone calls and few visits with Audrey.    I treasure the times when my much younger cousin, Nancy, and I get together.  She has such a great sense of humor!  About three of years ago when I wanted to take a month long vacation from Kumon, I asked her to fill in for me and she did.   She has stayed on ever since and it is fun to see her at work.

Life is filled with so many stories!   How blest am I to have lived to see so many changes in our world!   I often reminisce in my columns about how difference things were as I grew up!   I do treasure that childhood and also the part I played in the childhoods of my children, (guess this is my third childhood instead of what this time of life is often referred to as – a second childhood).

Enough rambling (or is it called stream of consciousness?) and get on with my day.   Think it is the first day of summer.   Foliage is so lush and green; flowers are so beautiful!    God is in His heaven and all is right with the world!

It was fun to ride to the airport with my youngest son, Matt whose sense of humor always brightens my days.   I enjoyed the plane trip down, and it was fun to be met by my oldest son, Wes who also has a great sense of humor.   The warm welcome by my daughter-in-love, Deb, confirmed that this would be a wonderful visit.   It is always fun to be with them and also to spend time with my granddaughter, Claire, her husband, Shaheed and my great grandchildren – Malik who is eleven and Leila who is nine.   A rare treat is for Wes, Deb and me to have lunch with Leila and her friends at school.

Ever since Wes and Deb took me to Savanna during my last visit, I have looked forward to going again.   When they told me we had reservations at a bed and breakfast there for Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, I thought that was my Mother’s Day gift but on Sunday, Wes took me to Mass and afterward they gave me my card.  Inside was the agenda for a writer’s workshop the next weekend in the College of Journalism and Communications at the University of Florida!    Called The Storytellers’ Summit, it has several noted authors and a variety of sessions to choose from.  Wes and I even had fun discussing and planning which sessions to attend. While in Savanna, I had a different kind of fun when Deb helped me rub some really old gravestones and get some decorations and quaint epitaphs.

My visits here always include lunches and dinners with friends and Saturday night parties are lots of fun.  You    do not have to be on vacation to have fun.  There are so many things right in our own backyard – we merely need to be open to opportunities to have fun. Each morning, as we stretch and greet a new day, we can muse on what we might enjoy doing.  Many of us have a variety of activities that we routinely do.  Some of us enjoy going to Mass and singing in the choir, some enjoy the Senior Centers and what they offer.  Some of us belong to book clubs; some play cards weekly and have fun just discussing what is going on locally.   Some of my friends enjoy the European tours offered by Holy Angels from time to time.  Many of my friends enjoy travelling and gambling trips.  The couple who have made it possible for me to be in Tetelestai by doing the driving have been in the cast from the very beginning – 32 years!  Their granddaughter who is 13 has been in it nine years!  They and some of their children but especially this granddaughter have been roller coaster fans for years and have traveled all over the U.S. to spend vacations riding roller coasters.  Although they are in their seventies and Tom has had back surgery, they plan to ride the coasters with Tori this summer! You know of the delight that I find in being a part of the cast of Tetelestai and an elf on the Polar Express.  It is fun for me to write for the Spirit.   Since I love kids and have a love affair with words, working with the youngsters at Kumon is really fun for me.  During the summer, I plan whole days of fun with my sister, Cheryl and my daughter-in-law, Tina as we make a loop through Middlefield.   We might start at the Amish salvage store, go to the Store at the Commons in Mesopotamia, stop at the Cheese Factory on 87, stop at an Amish bakery, get eggs at an Amish farm, or we can start at the Whitehouse Chocolates in Burton and then do some of the other things.  We have toured a tiny cemetery in Mespo that my neighbor Marilyn introduced to me.  It has some grave stones that were carved by a sculptor after the Civil War – his has a bear cub climbing over the top of an obelisk. I have taken iced tea or water in bottles and we have purchased sandwiches at the cheese factory and on our way home stopped in a park and had a mini picnic.  Most recently, we ate at Rosepoint Cottage, a lovely tea room in Chardon, and we celebrated Tina’s birthday.  We have been to the Middlefield flea market, and during the summer always get a supply of fresh vegetables, berries and fruit at various farms.

We all have different ideas of what fun is.  Even work can be fun if it makes us happy and makes us sing.  How long has it been since you sang or whistled?  I never hear anyone whistling a happy tune any more.

People who make a habit of having fun are fun to be around.  My mother had a voracious appetite for having fun.  Wherever she went, she attracted people because she was having so much fun.  At parties, groups would always form around her as she regaled them with stories of funny people she had met or funny adventures she’d had.  You could always hear laughter floating from her area.  She never learned to drive, but her joy was so infectious she was never at a loss for a ride because she made it fun just to be with her.

Do you have a To Do list and if so, is FUN a priority on it?   Is it something you see as a perk or unexpected reward or as a normal part of living? We need fun and it helps to think about that.  Having fun will be a buffer when tough times hit; it is the sugar that helps the medicine go down.

Take a few minutes to be quiet and ask yourself – what does fun mean to me?  What do I really like to do?  When you hear of an activity that sounds interesting, make a note of it and check it out.  I used to think that life just happened to me and I reacted, but I learned that I create my life.  I used to wait for fun to come knocking on my door, but now I actively pursue it.  Time waits for no one.  I just read of a 90 year old woman who received her Master’s degree and plans to teach at a college.  She started college in her 80’s!   This was fun for her and she was not discouraged by her age.  What’s stopping you?

If you are not having fun, it’s time to start by planning a fun filled summer!

Imagine, then, if we could travel back in time to the crucifixion of Christ and be a spectator to those events. I think of the battered body of Christ, shrunken and drained by the pain of His final hours. His hair is matted with blood from the puncture wounds of the crown of thorns so roughly forced upon His head. Every rib stands out in His gaunt frame, and gaping ragged holes tear his wrists and feet. The side wound, where the spear was thrust, is sharper and cleaner. Perhaps it was in the tomb that they lay this broken body on His mother’s lap so that she could mourn quietly and privately for just a little while before they wrapped Him in the burial cloths. Did she think of the first time she held Him, when all soft and sweet in swaddling clothes, He began His journey to do His Father’s will? Her heart almost bursting with sadness, did she also remember how she feared they would lose Him because of Herod’s edict to kill all males under the age of two? The trip to Egypt to escape this massacre must have been a lonely one. With no time to lose, they could not wait for a caravan that would afford them some protection against wild beasts and thieves along the way. They could take little with them, and only had time for a hasty farewell to their loving families. With the memory of the fear of that time, of the sorrow of having to leave loving parents when she was so young, also came the memory of the love and gentleness of Joseph. Of how he would stand with his arm around her shoulders as they both lovingly gazed down upon this perfect infant. How His love and confidence in them shone from His eyes and played upon His lips.

As she gazes upon this wounded corpse, in her mind’s eye, did she see Him running and playing with other children on the hills of Nazareth? Did she remember His chatter as He helped her set the table? Perhaps as she worked about the house, she could hear Joseph’s gentle guidance as he taught Jesus to love and caress the wood with which they worked, instilling in his son a pride of workmanship. Did Mary hear Jesus telling Joseph about what He had learned in the Temple that morning? Perhaps Jesus would be recounting a funny story about something He had done with His friends. There was a joy and a peace in her heart, though from time to time a shiver would run up her spine for no particular reason, and she would feel a strange sense of foreboding. Being young and having a deep faith, she would shake off the feeling and resume her humming. There was that time when He was left behind in Jerusalem. He was twelve and it was the year of His entering manhood. Until then He had always stayed with the women and other children on the trips to Jerusalem. . This year He could travel with the men, so when they started out neither Joseph nor Mary were concerned about His whereabouts – each thought He had chosen to travel with the other group. It was not until they stopped for the night and gathered for a communal meal that they realized that their son was not with them. The stab of fear that scathed Mary’s heart left her breathless and shaken. Unable to sleep, they braved the dangers of the return to Jerusalem to travel during the night. When they arrived there in the morning, they rushed down the busy, crowded streets and alleyways in search of Jesus, frantically calling His name and praying for His safety. Approaching the Temple area did they overhear people marveling at a young man within the Temple who was actually sharing knowledge with the high priests! Could it be Him? How out of place these tired, dusty travelers felt in the magnificent Temple! But, how relieved they were to find Him alive and unharmed. When they asked Him about His staying behind, they were a bit taken aback by His answer that He just be about His Father’s business. Overcome with joy and relief and eager to start for home, they could only ponder this as they began their return journey.

Everything seemed to return to normal in their home, with no further episodes like that. I wonder whether He prepared her for His ministry. What was it like that dawn, when they finished their prayers and sat for a moment watching the sun rise that Jesus told her that He must leave and spread the word of God? Had she almost lulled herself into thinking that He would be with her longer? There was a beauty to His features as He told her of His excitement in at last beginning what He had been born to do. As any mother would, she stood in the doorway until His figure was out of sight. Perhaps the unbidden tears gently rolled down her cheeks as she realized that her life would never be the same again.

Was she there at the Passover meal that Christians call the Last Supper? Did she and her women friends prepare and serve the meal to Jesus and His friends? Were they cleaning up and putting the upper room back in order when they heard a commotion as Jesus was led to inquisition? It is said that the disciples scattered when Jesus was arrested. Did one of them hurry to Mary to tell her what had happened? She had been a mother to all of them, and in their fright and confusion they may have turned to her, even though she was the one who needed the comforting at that time. She was in the crowd that waited below the balcony where Pilate displayed Jesus – bloody and weak, with head bowed. Her heart must have exploded within her when she heard the cries of the crowd – “Crucify Him, Crucify Him” – and saw Pilate wash his hands and turn away. Horrified, she hurried to find a spot along His way to Golgotha so that she might show Him that she had not abandoned Him but was praying for Him. When He fell, she must have ached to pick Him up, wipe the blood and sweat from His brow and cradle Him in her arms. But the soldiers closely guarded Him, lashing Him and calling Him to get up. Finally, they turned to a burly Cyrenian and ordered him to help carry the cross so that Jesus would not die on the way and avoid His crucifixion. The three hours that she stood below the cross, praying though drained of tears, were ones of agony for her. The fierce winds, thunder and lightning that turned the day into night, could not touch her. Her soul was battered as he heard her Son cry out for water and then cry out “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” The gentle urging of His followers interrupts her memories. His disciples, Joseph and Nicodemus gently take Him from her, she smooths the shroud upon the stone and when they place Him there, she covers him with the shroud.

Even in her grief, she turned to comfort His friends. They needed someone to hold them together and to encourage them to have faith. They needed to regroup. So, they retreated to an upper room where they met daily, spending hours talking about His life and teachings and what it all meant. They questioned how His teachings would apply now that He was dead. They remembered their travels with Him and how he touched whomever He met with His wisdom and love, often healing them as well. They were together at daybreak to begin another day of prayer, singing, and sharing when Mary Magdalen pounded on the door, crying out that she had gone to the tomb and it was empty! He as not there, but she had seen Him in the garden. With His resurrection, He has triumphed over death.  Each year we celebrate this awesome event, when Jesus triumphed over death and gave us new hope in eternal life! We are spiritually renewed! He came to give us Life and give it abundantly. He came to show us that death has no power over us and that life is everlasting. He showed us that while there are trials and tribulations along the way, His Way leads to eternal life. May you have a blessed and joyful Easter!

It all began when our children were small and we lived in a lovely, old, weather-beaten farm house in the middle of 90 acres. My brother used to love to hunt in the woods on the property and often would stop in for a cup of coffee afterward. At that time, we had four children ranging in age from four to eleven, and we all loved to hear John tell stories. He would often take our youngest, Chris, to pick mushrooms in the nearby woods. He loved to repeat the story of how he showed Chris where bugs had nibbled on some mushrooms. He told Chris if the bugs could safely eat the mushrooms, so could we. Tiny Chris looked pensive and then said, “Unless we find dead bugs.”

One day, John came not to hunt, but to talk. He mentioned that while hunting with some friends the day before, they came across a fox den that had only thin, whimpering kits. Apparently, the mother had been killed, and the kits were so small they would die if left in the den.

Then he posed an interesting question: “Jo, how would you like to have a fox kit?” My shocked answer was, “You have to be kidding!” However, with a little persuasion, we adopted a little fellow. We already had three dogs – a miniature dachshund who lived in the house, plus two dogs that lived out of doors – a mixed-breed dalmatian that had been dropped off along our lonely country road, and a mixed-breed beagle. The dalmatian ran free as we knew he would not wander away. However, the beagle had a snug nest in the side of an old shed. He was chained so that he could not follow his favorite pursuit – trailing rabbits. His yodeling ear-piercing howl would vibrate through the woods when he was lucky enough to get free.

Reddy came to live with us one Saturday afternoon in the spring, and was understandably frightened of all of us as well as of the doxie that barked in indignation. The fox avoided our gestures of friendship, moving like a dancer through the rooms and retreating to the back of the couch when he spied our doxie.

Before retiring, we made sure that the little doxie could not get at Reddy. The next morning, we left him to continue exploring the house while we went to church. It was a warm day as my husband, our daughters, Beth and Yvonne and sons, Wesley and Chris and I lined up in the pew. Before long, my husband and I looked at one another in dismay – apparently in his fright, Reddy had emitted a pungent musky odor which clung to us!!! It hung around us in church, and we felt certain that people around us were wondering what that strange, strong, gamey odor could be!

It was then that we decided that Reddy was an outside pet. We tried putting a collar on him, with a light weight chain to keep him from wandering, but the first time our little dachshund and our frisky dalmatian found the little fox in the yard, they barked and charged toward him and we quickly gave Reddy his freedom. He streaked off into the woods, and we wondered whether we had lost him forever. When we fed the dogs that night, we also filled a little bowl with dog food for the fox. While the dogs were intent on their meal, our son, Wesley, who was about ten at the time, whistled for the fox who appeared among the trees and danced over to his dish. After that, the fox became so relaxed that he would be in the open yard most of the time, came to Wesley’s whistle and actually stole a piece of tuna fish from Wesley’s mouth one day!

As Reddy grew older, he would challenge the dachshund and dalmatian to a chase. From the large porch along the front of the house, we could sit and watch their antics. The lawn sloped away from the porch to a small area that had a group of trees and bushes where the children loved to play. Directly behind that was an old orchard of non-bearing trees scattered here and there and quite open as we had removed the brush and kept the grass mowed. We would delight in watching the “fox hunt” instigated by Reddy. He would get the attention of Friz and Frisky, and then dart away with them howling in pursuit. He would lead them in a zig-zag path and in and out of the trees. They seemed to follow his trail by scent, and with their noses to the ground would soon lose sight of him. As they dashed madly after him, he would break the pattern and reach a small knoll outside of the orchard from which he could sit and watch them going in circles, yapping frantically. You could almost see the smile on Reddy’s face! Finally, one of the dogs would tire of the fruitless search, raise his head, and spy their “victim”. At that, the tone of the barking changed; the fox again sprinted away. He would repeat this until he tired of the game, and would dash off into the heavy woods beyond the nearby meadow.

When Reddy came to live with us, he was a nondescript light orange, rough-haired kit. Before long, however, his coat changed to a beautiful, sleek red; long velvet black stockings appeared on his delicate legs. With his long, bushy tail waving behind him, he as a thing of beauty. He was awesome!

My husband realized what the children and I did not – that Reddy was maturing and would soon seek out his own kind. As much as we loved him, and perhaps as much as he loved us, there was the call of the wild. One day after a routine visit to the vet with the dogs, my husband mentioned to me that the vet had suggested that since we loved the fox so much and would miss him, we could have him painlessly put to sleep and have him stuffed!

My husband consoled me by saying, “We could put him by the fireplace and you could see him as much as you would like.” To which I replied in hurt but in jest, “We could have you stuffed and put you by the fireplace and Reddy and I could look at YOU as much as we would like!”

Although we had this conversation in the house, we never saw Reddy again. When Wesley whistled, no beautiful creature appeared for dinner. There had been times when Reddy missed meals, but now we did not see him at all. We wandered through the woods, looking for signs that he had not abandoned us completely, and we did find his catch of booty – some shoelaces from our children’s shoes, some bones from his foraging and a lineman’s boot. At times, we sensed he had come back, but it almost seemed that he had heard our discussion in the kitchen and had chosen freedom.

How like that is our life!  In order to have a beautiful life, we need to cultivate relationships, whether with others or with ourselves.  We need to break through the hard ground of pride or lack of self-esteem.  Just as over the winter, the ground becomes dry and hard, we go through emotional winters that harden us.  This hard layer prevents the seeds of love, compassion and understanding from ever sprouting.  We need to turn this over, break up the clumps of anger, resentment, and hurt.  We need to rake the rocks of despair, disappointment and hopelessness out of the soil.

We are then ready to prepare for planting the seeds that will bring beauty and wholesomeness into our lives.  When planting flowers or vegetables, we begin by deciding what we want to grow, what we want to reap.  We visualize how we will arrange our garden.  Usually, vegetables are planted in rows, but flowers often are planted in a myriad of patterns and designs.  Gardeners map out how they want the garden to be designed but they must take into consideration that some plants need a lot of sun, while others require more shade.

In our life’s garden, we bask in the warmth of love – love of others for us and our love for others.  We need to be exposed to this love – to allow its warmth to help us to be open in growth in our relationships.  We cannot hide from it, but need to turn toward its healing rays.

The shade in our garden is the quiet times -times when we savor solitude.  Perhaps it is a good book or video, a quiet walk in the woods or by a pond, or just sitting out of doors and watching the sun as it sets, followed by the rosy afterglow.  It may be the quiet wonder that steals into our hearts as we watch the beauty of millions of tiny stars like diamonds against the velvet blackness of the night sky.  Prayer shades us from the harshness of some of life’s experiences.  It allows us grow slowly, but steadily into the person we are meant to be.  Times of quiet meditation, contemplating the good in our lives, thoughtfully walking a labyrinth, allows us to be filled with gratitude providing the shade we so often need.

Bulbs are planted in the fall and there is no sign of life all winter long.  Perennials, too, lie beneath the surface, waiting for sun and warmth to bring them to life again.  There are people in our lives who are also waiting for someone to reach out to them.  Our words of kindness are like the sunshine – healing rays that encourage them to break through and grow.  Our kind actions such as phone calls, visits, cards, sharing conversations, are like the rain that softens the soil of their loneliness.  The simple act of listening, letting them know that we do care about them and their lives, is like the sun returning after a rain, warming the moist soil and allowing them to come alive again.

Gentle rain softens the soil, allowing the roots to spread out and take hold.  It helps the life giving nutrients enter those roots.  Heavier rain pelts the plants, but they are strengthened as they grow and stand up to the assault.  These heavier rains, often riding the wind, are the disappointments and sorrows we struggle with in life.  Although painful, they too contribute to our growth.

The bugs that enter our garden are the insidious little irritations of modern society.  We often struggle to remove beetles, aphids, and other bugs that bore into our plants and take life from them.  So, too, we have a constant barrage of self-defeating, deflating bites from TV, newspapers and magazines.  We are constantly being told that we are failures – too old, too fat, too thin or too weak.  These ideas attack our self-esteem and make us want to rush out and buy whatever the advertisers tell us will make us look younger, thinner,  beautiful, fun loving and energetic.  We are encouraged to fill our bodies with chemicals in order to look like the people on TV.  Perhaps if we just removed these bugs by not watching TV and reading articles that put us own, but instead keep a positive attitude when talking with others, we would grow physically and emotionally stronger.

Every garden has weeds.  They come with the territory.  In our lives, the bad habits we allow to get a foothold are weeds.  Some of us have to keep pulling out the weeds of anger, of f gossiping, of procrastination, of excess eating, drinking, smoking or whatever we are tempted to do that is harmful to our growth.  These urges keep returning and need to be pulled out over and over again to allow the goodness in our lives to be nourished.

A good garden takes work, and we know that a good life does too.  Just as the hoe keeps the dirt around the plants loose, we need to continue to work the soil of our lives, keeping it loose to allow the good we have planted to take root, grow stronger, expand and grow fruitful.

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These articles are published in the Spirit of Bainbridge every three weeks, and mailed to every home and business in Auburn and Bainbridge Townships (zip code 44023).

Additional copies are distributed locally at Arabica, Bainbridge Library, Lowe’s Greenhouse, Sirna’s Market & Deli and other locations in Auburn, Aurora, Bainbridge, Chagrin Falls, Chesterland, Solon and South Russell.

Approximately 7,300 copies of Spirit of Bainbridge are circulated.

]]> http://jolindberg.com/blog/senior-spirit/how-does-your-garden-grow/feed/ 0 http://jolindberg.com/blog/senior-spirit/spring-at-last/ http://jolindberg.com/blog/senior-spirit/spring-at-last/#comments Sat, 02 May 2009 19:16:26 +0000 jo http://jolindberg.com/blog/?p=44 After this blustery snowy winter, I delight in magazines and seed catalogs that herald the approach of spring.

Never the less, I do love the beauty of winter skies and landscapes pure and white.  The skeleton shapes the trees take on remind me of dry times in my life when I was tempted to give up hope.  They also remind me that “this, too, will pass” and that those down times were followed by rebirth.  It is the very stark whiteness that highlights the colors of nature.  How much more beautiful is the scarlet cardinal against a backdrop of pure white.  Even the black of the crows is enhanced by the contrast, much like the black print on white paper that create words that connect us with the world and others.  Perhaps some of the wintery times of our lives can be a backdrop for the beauty we often overlook.

Although I was born in northeastern Ohio, I have chosen to remain here because I love the contrasting seasons.  They each bring a new look to our surroundings.  I am fortunate that the design of my living room lends itself to different arrangements of furniture.  I will have the couches, tables, chairs and TV one way for a few months, and then I will try another arrangement, and when I get finished, I heave a sigh and say, “Oh, this is so much better – so much prettier!” But a few months later, I will rearrange everything in a way that is quite similar to how it was in the first place.  Again, I will sigh and think this is so much prettier!  So, I enjoy how Mother Nature strips the trees bare and then is pleased with the simplicity and stark beauty of that arrangement. She puts on new slipcovers of snow and decorates the trees with valances of white.  She keeps the Cardinals, Blue Jays and Chickadees for an accent of just a little color to brighten the area.  Like me, she tires of that after a while, especially when cold winds bring down branches and valences, and the slipcovers begin to have a tint of gray, and she gets out her swatches and begins to redecorate in soft, pale greens so as to gently segue into a new arrangement.  Soon, pretty red buds begin to open on the leaves of the maple trees, and birds begin to weave their nests of brown.  Crocus of a wide variety of colors herald springtime, and daffodils and tulips are not far behind.  Shy little white, yellow or purple violets form nosegays here and there in the tender green grass.  More birds begin to arrive and sing, and it is as if we have discovered some CDs we have not played in a while and we thrill to the enjoyment of them.  We want to throw open the windows and let the soft breezes in, to go for walks and sit by the Falls, or drive along River Road, entranced by the twists and turns of the stream beside it.  Days grow longer and adventure beckons.

Where should we go, and with whom?  Should we try one of those one-tank trips that we have seen on TV and can still find in Neil Zucker’s books?  I love to go out 422 to 518 to 88 – the back way to Middlefield – and watch the Amish do their spring plowing with their huge Clydesdales.  As they turn over the soil, I think of some of the things that need to be turned over in my life so that new ideas, new hopes, new dreams can be planted, perhaps to be reaped when winter again approaches.

When spring showers turn the skies to gray, I love to put a bouquet of soft gray pussy willows in a vase with a few bright yellow daffodils. They remind me of how beautiful are the dark clouds when trimmed with golden sunlight.  It also reminds me that I need time for joy and laughter and fun, but I also need quiet times to rebuild my spirit.

What seeds will I plant this year?  God has blessed me with a loving family, good friends and great neighbors.  Perhaps I will plant a memory bush to remind me to tell them how much I love and appreciate them.  So many wonderful people have entered my life and enhanced it!  Perhaps I will plant a butterfly bush, to remind me of my soul and to remember that as beautiful as this life is for me, it is just a cocoon, from which I will emerge in eternity.  I might plant Passion Flowers to inspire me to be enthusiastic and passionate about sharing my joy with others.   I could plant some rose bushes to

remind me that thorns in my life make me appreciate the beauty in my life all the more.  Just as it takes rain to make plants grow, we sometimes need to shed tears so that we can grow.  I really do not need to plant Impatiens, as I am already too impatient for my own good.  I wonder whether Bachelor Buttons would bring a new companion to my door!

No matter what I plant, the soil of my life will be richer for having tilled it and nurtured the seeds I have planted.

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These articles are published in the Spirit of Bainbridge every three weeks, and mailed to every home and business in Auburn and Bainbridge Townships (zip code 44023).

Additional copies are distributed locally at Arabica, Bainbridge Library, Lowe’s Greenhouse, Sirna’s Market & Deli and other locations in Auburn, Aurora, Bainbridge, Chagrin Falls, Chesterland, Solon and South Russell.

Approximately 7,300 copies of Spirit of Bainbridge are circulated.

I think of the battered body of Christ, shrunken and drained by the pain of His final hours.  His hair is matted with blood from the puncture wounds from the crown of thorns that was so roughly forced upon His head.  Every rib stands out in His gaunt frame, and gaping holes adorn his hands and feet.  The side wound, where the spear was thrust, is sharper and cleaner.

Was it in the tomb that they lay this broken body on His mother’s lap so that she could mourn quietly and privately for just a little while before they wrapped Him in the burial cloths?  Her heart almost bursting with sadness, did she remember how she feared she would lose Him because of Herod’s edict to kill all males who were less than two years old?  The trip to Egypt was a lonely one.  They could take little with them, and only had time for a hasty farewell.  With the memory of the fear of that time, and the sorrow of having to live among strangers, also came the memory of the love and gentleness of Joseph, and how he would stand with his arm around her shoulders as they both loving gazed upon the perfect infant.

As she looks at this wounded corpse, she hears His laughter as He runs and plays with other children on the hills on Nazareth.  She remembers His chatter as He helped her set the table, and the mingling of His voice with Joseph’s as they worked together.  She could hear Him tell Joseph what he had learned in the Temple that morning, or recounting a funny story about something He had done with His friends.  There was a joy and peace in her heart, broken from time to time by a shiver that would run down her spine, and she would feel a strange sense of foreboding.  Being young and having a deep faith, she would shake off the feeling and resume her humming.

There was that time when He was left behind in Jerusalem.  He was twelve and entering manhood.  Until then He had always stayed with the women and other children on the trips to Jerusalem.  This year, he might have traveled with the men, so when they started out neither Joseph or Mary were concerned about His whereabouts – each thought He had chosen to travel with the other group.  It was not until they stopped for the night and gathered for a communal meal that they realized that their son was not with them. The stab of fear that scathed Mary’s heart left her breathless and shaken.  Despite the danger of bandits and wild animals that prowled the route, Joseph and Mary immediately returned to Jerusalem.  Arriving soon after daybreak, they wound their way though the busy, crowed streets and alleyways searching and praying.  Upon reaching the Temple, they overheard people marveling at the young man within who was actually sharing knowledge with the leaders of the Temple.  Could it be Him?  How out of place these tired, dusty travelers felt in the magnificent Temple!  But, how relieved they were to find Him alive and unharmed.  When they asked Him about His staying behind, they were a bit taken aback by His answer that He must be about His Father’s business.  Overcome with joy and relief, they could only ponder this as they turned toward home.

As Jesus grew to manhood, everything seemed to return to normal in their home.  When she heard Him talking with Joseph as they worked side by side, did she have a premonition that He would be leaving them some day?  When she watched her nephew, John, retreat into the desert and begin to teach repentance and the love of God, did she have any inkling that Jesus would soon begin His travels?  Jesus may have confided in her that He had come to do the work of His true father, but with the death of Joseph, she had pushed such thoughts to the back of her mind.  Then, there came a dawn when they finished their prayers and sat for a moment watching the sunrise, and Jesus told her that He must spread the word of God.  There was a beauty to His features as He told her of His excitement in at last beginning what He had been born to do.  Then, as she stood in the doorway until His figure faded from view, the unbidden tears gently rolled down her cheeks as she realized her life would never be the same again.

There were times when He came home while He preached in Nazareth and nearby towns.  How she would enjoy cooking and baking for Him and His disciples, and listening to them talk in the evenings!  She would lovingly gaze at her son, happy to listen to the talk of the men and their enthusiasm for sharing the ministry of Jesus.

Did she sense that the simple Seder meal that she and her friends prepared for Jesus and His friends would be His Last Supper?  Jesus and His friends had gone to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray, and the women were cleaning up and putting the room back in order when they heard a commotion as Jesus was led through the streets.  The disciples had scattered at His arrest, and one of them came to tell Mary.  While Peter went to the courtyard to learn what was happening, Mary retired to her room to wait and pray.  Unable to bear it any longer, Mary joined the crowd that waited below the balcony where Pilate displayed Jesus, bloody and weak, with His head bowed.  Her heart exploded within her when she head the cries of “Crucify Him, crucify Him” and saw Pilate wash his hands and turn away.

Along with His apostle, John, she was among the crowd that walked along the way to Calvary with Jesus.  When He fell, she ached to pick Him up, wipe the blood and sweat from His brow and cradle Him in her arms.  But the soldiers got in the way, lashing him and calling to Him to get up.  Finally, they turned to a large, burly stranger and ordered him to help carry the cross so that Jesus would not die on the way.  The three hours that she stood with John below the cross, praying and drained of tears, were ones of agony for her. The fierce winds, thunder and lightening that turned the day into night, could not reach her.  Her soul was being battered as she heard her son cry out for water, finally cry out, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?” and lower His head in death.

The gentle urging of Joseph of Arimethea, interrupts her reverie.  The Roman guards are growing restless and want to close the tomb.  It is over.  She can hold her son no longer.  His spirit has gone, and she must allow them to place His body on the burial slab.

His followers needed her now.  Frightened and confused, they needed someone to hold them together and encourage them to have faith.  They needed to regroup.  Putting aside her grief, Mary retreated with them to an upper room.  It was a time of remembering what He had taught, and pondering on how it applied now that He had died. They were puzzled that He brought Lazarus back from the dead, but did not save Himself.  Before dawn, on the third day, Mary Magdalene and other women disciples went to the tomb, while others gathered for prayer.  Loud banging on the locked door and jubilant shouts of an empty tomb announced the return of the women.

He has triumphed over death.  Each spring, we celebrate this joyous occasion.  We are spiritually renewed.  It is an “aha” moment, when we once again realize what life is really all about.  Jesus came to give us life and give it abundantly.  He came to show us that death has no power over us and that life is everlasting.  He showed us that there are trials and tribulations along the way, but His Way leads to eternal life.   May you have a blessed and joyful Easter.

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These articles are published in the Spirit of Bainbridge every three weeks, and mailed to every home and business in Auburn and Bainbridge Townships (zip code 44023).

Additional copies are distributed locally at Arabica, Bainbridge Library, Lowe’s Greenhouse, Sirna’s Market & Deli and other locations in Auburn, Aurora, Bainbridge, Chagrin Falls, Chesterland, Solon and South Russell.

Approximately 7,300 copies of Spirit of Bainbridge are circulated.

When we were young, the telephone was in its infancy. Placing a phone call was pleasant and exciting. When you picked up the receiver, a lovely voice would say. “Number, Please” and she would connect you to that number! I treasure the true story about the little boy who was lonely and called the Information Operator and was comforted. It is too long to retell but she was his invisible friend to adulthood! It wasn’t until I was a pre-teen that phones appeared in homes. Now, many homes have several, and it seems that almost everyone has a cell phone.

Years ago, we received news and entertainment via the radio. We were fortunate to have a beautiful cabinet radio in our living room. I remember waking after midnight and sneaking downstairs to lie on the carpet in front of the radio in the dark and listen to the pilots talking with the air controllers!! That old Philco was ahead of its time! My grandfather insisted on complete silence as he listened to Gabriel Heater who began each of his news broadcasts with “There’s good news tonight”. As a child, I loved to listen to Tom Armstrong, The All American boy, As an adult, I got hooked on soap operas – it always pleased me in recent years to recognize the voice of Mason Adams selling Smuckers on TV – he was Pepper Young on one of the soap operas. TV added pictures and glorious color to the sounds! The young people of today find it hard to imagine a world without TVs, radios, and telephones.

In our lifetimes, we have seen the automobile change from a vehicle used primarily by the “breadwinner” to commute to work; shopping on Saturday, and church and rides to the country on Sunday to several per some families. There was a derogatory term “Sunday driver” which classified them as not driving very often or well. My grandmothers and my mother never learned to drive, and while not everyone drives today, many of us do. After seeing a horrifying movie when I was young, I was determined never to drive. My husband insisted as soon as we married that I learn. We lived in Cleveland but came out to Bedford where there was “less traffic” for Wes to give me lessons. One warm summer afternoon when traffic was especially heavy, I crossed the bridge on Northfield Road and drove up a small incline to a traffic light at Union Street. This was when most cars were stick shift (and the clutch not all that smooth). I stalled the car when the light turned green; put on the emergency brake, started the clutch-accelerator procedure and stalled the car again. This went on through four light changes while traffic piled up behind us clear across the bridge and angry drivers began to blow their horns!! To my dismay, my loving husband who had only whispered sweet nothings in my ears up until then, shouted, “How can you be so dumb!” Amid tears, I finally managed to get through that intersection. Thanks to switching to lessons from the AAA, our marriage survived and being able to drive opened a whole new world to me. I eventually added to the family budget by driving a school bus for nine years! I was the first woman school bus driver in the Aurora public school system, and now it seems that the majority of school bus drivers are women.

Air travel today is taken for granted, but the first trans Atlantic flight was by Charles Lindbergh in 1927 – the year before I was born. As I was in my infancy, so was flight! The concept of travel to the moon could only be found in fantasy books such as “Dr. Doolittle Goes to the Moon.” We have seen it happen!

Although they can be challenging and frustrating for seniors, computers offer a wealth of information plus the ability to communicate globally. Not only can I communicate with my children and grandchildren daily via computer, I keep in touch with family and friends in Alaska, Maui, and China!

Many seniors have lived full and interesting lives and continue to do so. I salute you for a lifetime of living, loving, doing and giving. I encourage you to look at all of the marvelous changes that have occurred during our lifetimes, and look forward with faith and hope to an even better world. One in which each day we ask ourselves how we can contribute to making ours a more loving, peaceful society.

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These articles are published in the Spirit of Bainbridge every three weeks, and mailed to every home and business in Auburn and Bainbridge Townships (zip code 44023).

Additional copies are distributed locally at Arabica, Bainbridge Library, Lowe’s Greenhouse, Sirna’s Market & Deli and other locations in Auburn, Aurora, Bainbridge, Chagrin Falls, Chesterland, Solon and South Russell.

Approximately 7,300 copies of Spirit of Bainbridge are circulated.

However, we leave more to our children than material wealth. During our lives we work and live our lives in a way that keeps our finances strong. Without realizing it, how we live our lives also affects the lives and health of our children. We can leave them a legacy of a good immune systems. What we eat and how active we are will affect on them as well. Just looking at families, we see that in general, overweight parents have children who are overweight; slender parents usually have slender children. In overweight families, slender children show how the children can change their physical inheritance.

Not everyone receives a fortune. For some it may be little money. However, fortunes can be squandered while a little money can be used as what we call “seed” money. Something to start growing our own fortune, or at least a more comfortable life.

Through our genes we receive the tendency toward good health or toward poor health. The life style of our parents impact on how we nurture that seed. If they are active and follow good eating habits, they encourage us to respect and care for our bodies and work for optimum health. They provide us with the best food they can. We grew up very poor, and my dad provided for my mother, seven children, and my maternal grandparents for many years. He was very careful with his spending, but he also cultivated large gardens that provided wonderful fresh vegetables all summer long. My grandparents raised chickens and while red meat was scarce, we had lots of chicken prepared in a variety of delicious ways (plus eggs to eat or use in cooking). My grandfather grew grapes and there was an abundance of a variety of berries in the fields nearby. How fortunate I am that we could have such a healthy diet while being unable to afford many sweets! Parents can encourage physical activity and entertainment, which makes us laugh (it has been said that laughter is the best medicine) but also to raise our spirits to buoy us up during difficult times. They can instill in us a deep faith to counteract the pessimism and negativity so often found in this world.

Just as how material inheritances are used is more important than the amount received, how we use our physical and mental inheritance is vitally important. People who have good immune systems, without handicaps or illnesses, need to appreciate that blessing and strive not only to keep it but to build on it as well, This is especially important when they have children. Just as wealthy people strive to instill a sense of responsibility and good financial habits, healthy parents need to encourage their children to live responsibly, taking care of the wonderful gift of a healthy body and help them build the good habits they need to protect that body and enable it to stay or grow healthier.

There have always been challenges when people strive to succeed financially and there have always been challenges to keeping healthy. We are faced with a shaky economy, but we will work through it. There are scams to take away our money, and marketing to make us buy more stuff than we need. There are health challenges as well, but we meet these challenges by striving to keep our immune systems strong and living a life style of healthy eating, physical and mental exercise, and a belief that we are meant to live joyful, purposeful lives.

This is a good time to consider your physical inheritance. Perhaps it is not as rich as you would desire. However, have you ever considered it before and have you been building on whatever your received, however inadequate you may have thought it was? Have you been inspired by stories of people who did not inherit the best of physical health and actually built on it and improved it? A good example is Jack LaLanne, who at age 94 continues to work out every morning for two hours. Although, admittedly addicted to sugar and junk foods during his childhood, when he was fifteen, he heard a talk on health and nutrition, which had such a powerful influence, it motivated Jack to focus on his diet and exercise habits. He was a pioneer in the health and fitness area and the health clubs he established became the Bally Total Fitness business of today!

Perhaps some of us do not have the best spending habits; some do not have the best health habits. But, it is never too late to learn how to manage your money or your health!

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These articles are published in the Spirit of Bainbridge every three weeks, and mailed to every home and business in Auburn and Bainbridge Townships (zip code 44023).

Additional copies are distributed locally at Arabica, Bainbridge Library, Lowe’s Greenhouse, Sirna’s Market & Deli and other locations in Auburn, Aurora, Bainbridge, Chagrin Falls, Chesterland, Solon and South Russell.

Approximately 7,300 copies of Spirit of Bainbridge are circulated.