Mass

I did the second reading on Friday. My grandma’s cousin, the priest presiding over the Mass, had asked me to give a brief reason for and explanation of what I was going to do, just before I began. And so, with some trepidation, deep breathing, and many tears, I said, “My Opa’s first language was German. So, I will do the second reading in German, for him.” And then I did.

Der erste Brief an die Thessalonicher 
Das Schicksal der Verstorbenen
13 Brüder und Schwestern, wir wollen euch über die Entschlafenen nicht in Unkenntnis lassen, damit ihr nicht trauert wie die anderen, die keine Hoffnung haben. 
14 Denn wenn wir glauben, dass Jesus gestorben und auferstanden ist, so wird Gott die Entschlafenen durch Jesus in die Gemeinschaft mit ihm führen. 
15 Denn dies sagen wir euch nach einem Wort des Herrn: Wir, die Lebenden, die noch übrig sind bei der Ankunft des Herrn, werden den Entschlafenen nichts voraushaben. 
16 Denn der Herr selbst wird vom Himmel herabkommen, wenn der Befehl ergeht, der Erzengel ruft und die Posaune Gottes erschallt. Zuerst werden die in Christus Verstorbenen auferstehen; 
17 dann werden wir, die Lebenden, die noch übrig sind, zugleich mit ihnen auf den Wolken in die Luft entrückt zur Begegnung mit dem Herrn. Dann werden wir immer beim Herrn sein. 
18 Tröstet also einander mit diesen Worten!

Post-a-day 2021

Today

I just want to call him and talk about the stars and the planets in the night sky… I want to ask him for a detail on a story… I want to be the source of that crinkling smile again…

But that isn’t how things work.

And that’s okay.

And it’s perfect, too.

(I’m not saying I won’t cry an ocean-full over the next while, but even that is perfect and okay.)

I truly am the product of both of my maternal grandparents. My grandmother gave me the social aspect in life, the physical intimacy of her always patting a leg, rubbing a back, or indulging in deep, long hugs. My Opa, he gave me the ability and desire to step away from the action, and go do my own thing; to be not touched; to be comfortably contemplative on my own while the others gather loudly; to think deeply and analytically about…, well, about just about everything. He gave me the goofy, nerdy humor, and she gave me the sharp sass. He gave me the comfort in grunge attire, and she gave me the casual desire to out-dress expectations. I am both extremely picky and totally open to trying new things. I am artistically and musically inclined and am an utter nerd for knowledge. I want to save everything, yet have little around the house. I love with my words, but also with my actions and unspoken acceptance. The list could go on and on and on, I am sure… I know it could, and it could do so easily…. I am that much a perfect mix between the two of them.

Yes, I have my own pieces all throughout it all. Of course, I do.

However, it is unabashedly clear that I come from the two of them. We are of the same thread, and they helped to create me, as I became my own piece of the work.

Post-a-day 2021

Making music

I started writing another song last night. It was initially to help me organize and express some thoughts around the work situation within my life so far – how it isn’t exactly consistent in terms of title or finances, but it is always part of being my true self and being committed to making a positive difference in this world. But an unexpected line showed up right at the end of the session last night, and it was clearly part of the chorus. It was a line about listening to the angels around me. And it made sense, but seemed almost out of place for the content so far in the song…

Until today, that is. Today, for whatever reason, a deeper fullness arose for the song. My mom and I discussed the situation with my Opa, how he is dying, and how he might finish that process in the very near future. It is an uncomfortable thought, itself, but we both are ready to allow what needs to happen next in the situation. At least, as ready as we know how to be…

However, after she and I discussed their things for a while, and then got off the phone, I started working on the song again, as I had just begun before our phone call (I think I had, anyway). As I got reacquainted with what I’d written so far, I started feeling what ideas needed to come next. I was reminded of the encouragement my Opa had given me one day, and felt immediately that it was perfect to use for the song, as it expressed what I was wanting to express… and then the idea fleshed out a bit…, and, without realizing it, the song had a deeper meaning.

Not only am I listening to the angels around me, having them call me forward in life, but a new one has just joined them, and he has given me further encouragement to follow this path I am forging in my life. Every time I sang that part of the song, I could barely get words out by the middle of the verse, and had to stop altogether for the tears and emotion that arose. And I think the words communicate beautifully in the song, even without someone’s knowing the whole situation.

Anyway, I look forward to finishing that song, but, boy, is it going to be a tough one, emotionally speaking.

Post-a-day 2021

Just breathe

“I’m proud of you… everything that you do… Remember that.”

As far back as I can remember, it has been a bit difficult for me to be around very old people. If they are old and alone, that hurts me already, but , once they have reached a point that their bodies are beginning to fail them openly, it is as though a switch flips in my mind, and I suddenly struggle to breathe, to function, to focus.

My grandfather is at this point. Actually, he is much beyond it. As we talked today, I had to clear myself continuously in order to remain present with him. I have begun missing him more and more in recent years, as there has been less and less of him to see, with whom to speak and interact. I have seen him grow more and more frustrated with his own brain, his own body as a whole, as he has lost ability after ability… ones which he had is such intense abundance. Indeed, he was one of the smartest and most learned people I have ever known. And he didn’t even attend college. Nonetheless, he was the best resource we had growing up – even better than our teachers on most subjects, and more efficient and detailed in his answers than an encyclopedia. He was one of my greatest inspirations as a child and young adult, and I think so much of me longed to be most like he was. And he always made it so clear that we were loved by him. In almost very action, every phrase or look, every article or comic strip he saved for us or television program or clip he recorded for us, it was clear that he loved us.

He, every so often, would call me “Honah Lee” (from “Puff, the Magic Dragon”), and still does. He’s always played around with pronunciations of words, both of English nature and foreign (e.g. jalapeños with a hard j and firm n). So, it was an easy step to get to calling me Honah Lee. After I had learned German, and we had long since begun to use it with one another (college and onward for me), he called me one day, and said that he wanted to share what he’d figured out so far. He then sang to me “Puff, the Magin Dragon”… in German. He had done his best to translate the lyrics. I think I might actually have cried while he sang to me over the phone. There was just something about it, I was quite overwhelmed with the expression of pure delight and love in that act. Indeed, any time he used German, I always noticed how he sparked to life, as though becoming, just for a few moments or minutes, a young child, excited for the unexpected adventure that life could and would unfold. He hadn’t been allowed to use German in school as a boy – it was forbidden by the school. It was his language of home, fun, love, and self-expression. But he hadn’t used it much beyond his childhood. And, by the time I was born he had almost never used German at all; not until I had begun learning and using it with him. And so, every time we used German together, it was like I got to know him as a child, free from the many pressures and stresses that naturally arise from adulthood, from aging. I just got to be with him. And I reveled in that.

And I still do.

However, talking with him today, discussing how, though he is to turn 91 years old in a few months, he hopes yet is not sure he will make it there, it was somewhat terrifying how easy it was to be with him. He was 100% present as we spoke about that, though is isn’t always these days. He said that he has lived a wonderful life, that he is grateful, and that he is not afraid of dying (despite the fact, as he said, that people say not to say that). I merely nodded, and cried as I said that we very much would miss having him here with us. I held his hand for a bit, and we shared multiple kisses on the cheeks and I love yous and Hab’ dich lieb’s before I had to leave.

And then, just before I had to leave, he said to me, slowly and intentionally, looking me directly in the eyes, – something he has struggled to do lately – “I’m proud of you… everything that you do… Remember that.”

And I will.

And I would not be surprised if today was the last time the two of us see one another in his life. We might see one another again, but it is not very likely. He cannot seem to eat almost anything anymore, and his body is, frankly, falling apart and shutting down on him. A could be causing B, and B could be causing A, but both are contributing to the other, and the result is the same: he does not have much likelihood of living in his physical body on this Earth for much longer.

And it’s terrifying for me.

My paternal grandfather died when I was in middle school. It was expected and not. And it was difficult yet not. The same was true of my paternal grandmother. I was in college when she died, but I was still very much in the child mentality, much more so than the adult mentality. Now, I am very much more on the adult side of life than I am on the child side, and it is an entirely different kind of experience to have this happening now. I suppose that, since my maternal grandparents had survived my childhood, something in me had felt that they would be forever present in this life. They had made it to adulthood with me, so to speak, so they were here to stay.

But they aren’t. No one is, really. But they are more obviously likely not to be here for that much longer. A small part of me had felt disappointed in myself for not providing them with what feels like would have been some of the greatest gifts I could have given them. I do not have a stable career. I do not have a partner in life. I have no children. I don’t even have a pet. I know they do not need those things for me. But that is why they would be gifts.

However, when Opa said that to me today, that he is proud of me… of everything I do…, it reminded me of why those other things have always seemed to matter. They are most often expression of success in living one’s life fully. At least, they are mostly seen that way. But, when the ultimate goal is that we live life fully… that we be true to ourselves and fully self-expressed…, I cannot say that I have failed my grandparents or that I have let them down. Indeed, I have fulfilled every wish they could have for me in relation to success in my life. All the other stuff – the marriage, the children, the house, the career – are tiny details by comparison.

I do not say this lightly nor boastingly when I say that I am one of the most loving people I know. I do not do well with keeping people at the standard ‘comfortable distance’ in life. I do not chat about the weather easily. Either I do not know you at all, or I want to know you, embrace you fully. Like Ender Wiggin said, the moment I get to know you, I get to love you. And I love loving people. It is terribly difficult and stressful for me to ‘try to get to know someone’. Just be yourself with me, let go of whatever you are hiding, let me see you, be with you…. let me love you. That’s all I want from the people around me. And that’s how I want them to see me, too – see all of me now, so that you can love me for me. Let us not waste time on pleasantries and weather. Let us dive right in, and have an absolute blast together. Indeed, that is exactly why dating is so difficult for me, why I cannot seem to ‘figure out’ how to interact with this guy with whom I went on a date recently. I don’t do surface level. I do the real you, the real me. And when people avoid that, turn or step away from it, usually in fear, it is so hard for me… it only makes me want to come even closer, that I might love you even deeper. And though this might sound like I am socially awkward, I truly am not. I can be quite quiet in certain circumstances, but I probably am the only person at the party who will know everyone else by the end of it.

And I am grateful for that. So much of who I am is love. And I have no idea what comes next for me in life. (Like… genuinely, I have no idea… please, grasp that for a moment…) But I know exactly who I am stepping forward into that unknown. And I love her and I am grateful every moment for her and for all that she is and for all that she is not. And I learned today that, more than I ever saw, my Opa feels the same way about her. He knows I’m not married, not settled in any way, not career-stable or financially stable. But he knows that I am stable, and that I am ready for whatever is through that next threshold as I step forward into it. And he is proud of that, and all that it involves. He is proud of me, of who I am, of all that he knows I will create out of who I am in this life, even though he will not be here in person to see most of it with me.

I pray only that his love, his support, his guidance help me to move forward confidently and comfortably throughout the rest of my life. I am grateful for him always. And I love him dearly, deeply, truly. Thank you, God, for allowing us the opportunity to spend so much wonderful time together in this life.

In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen. Danke, Gott.

Post-a-day 2021

P.S. Frohe Ostern, folks!! Happy Easter, allen!! (Not to deny the weight of all of that ^, but it was because of Easter that I was able to spend the time with my Opa today at all. And I am grateful for that. And the Easter Egg Hunt in which I got to partake. Today really was a great day, filled with silliness and love and fun. But it also was very real one, in which, I believe, God was helping me to prepare for part of what comes next.)

Old folks and celebrations

Today was the 67th anniversary of my maternal grandparents (Grandma and Opa), and the 90th birthday of Grandma. And yes, she got married on her birthday.

We celebrated with a small family event, which included a brief surprise Zoom call from almost all the grandkids (and great-grandchildren), who were spread around the country (the ones out of country called in earlier in the morning). It was a real delight, and on many levels.

Considering being married to someone for 67 years is one of those incomparable things that I just cannot seem to fathom. Yes, I certainly understand it conceptually. However, I haven’t done anything for 67 years – not even life – so I cannot grasp such a length of time. And I also am not married to anyone, so neither can I grasp that fully (or at all). Sure, they have struggles and problems beyond just their physical and mental limitations brought on by their aging bodies and minds. Being with anyone almost all day almost every day for even a few weeks can be rough. I cannot imagine doing that for almost thirty years straight (that’s how long ago my Opa retired).

They have also managed various medical concerns and issues that have added significant amounts of stress for them, either directly for themselves and their own health or second-hand from another family member’s health here and there. And yet here they are, ninety years old, still walking around and driving themselves places and carrying on genuine and real conversations and taking care of themselves at home on a daily basis. At times, this frightens me – old age and people in it often have. I nonetheless am honored to be a selected part of their lives, and am grateful for the opportunity to have them in my life and for so long. They are extremely loving people who have taught me much in life, and who continue to love me and to teach me, and in many ways. I love them dearly.

Happy Birthday, Grandma.

And Happy Anniversary, Grandma and Opa.

😉

Post-a-day 2020

Hospital Humor

Walking out of the hospital, through the cold evening air of our recently arrived cold front, I reflect on our time in the hospital room, and I can’t help but to smile and let out a bit of a chuckle, shaking my head ever so slightly.

We were all sitting around, chatting casually, occasionally commenting on a “Wheel of Fortune” puzzle, if we happened to look up in time to catch a new one.

My mom was across the room, facing me.

My grandma was to my left, and my opa was to my right (“grandpa” in German), still lying on the hospital bed.

Thus the memory begins:

My grandma is reading the label of a nut and seed butter I had brought with me, one which everyone found to be delicious.

As she reads, she pronounced “Celtic” with a soft c, and s sound.

Grandma: Pumpkin seeds, and Celtic sea salt… Celtic… Celtic sea salt

Opa, at the same time: I really like peanuts.

I look at my mom, and begin to chuckle silently, rolling my eyes.

Mom: What?

Hannah: I feel like I’m in a room with two kids: [I motion my arm toward my grandma] One’s practicing a tongue twister, [the other hand and a head nod toward my opa] the other’s saying just things he likes, “I Love peanuts…”

Opa, still continuing his list of likes: I like cashews,…

My mom and I look at each other again.

Hannah: You see?!

We both crack up quietly and calmly, but genuinely.

I continue for his list: I like Batman

Opa, still listing: I like Brazil nuts…

Mom : I like fire trucks

Mom and I are really laughing now.

Opa pauses ever so slightly, then adds: I even like Hannah

My mom and I glance at one another, and then at Opa to verify that we heard correctly, and then we all start to crack up together.

Opa: save the best for last

Chuckling continues all around, as all four of us have joined in on the joke of how silly everything is in the moment, and the love that we all have for one another – it is fun to play with those who love us.

Post-a-day 2019

Grandparenting

We’re staying at my aunt and uncle’s house tonight (though they are out of town), and I found myself noticing how baby-oriented everything here seems to be now.

No daughters living in their individual rooms, no young nieces and nephews and adult siblings and parents coming to visit all the time anymore… just their daughters visiting occasionally with their babies and tiny children.

And then I realized that a lot of their traveling is either to visit the out-of-town grandchildren or to go on vacation with the daughters and grandchildren.

And so, essentially, their lives focus greatly around their grandchildren (they’re retired, you see…. my aunt and uncle…, so they don’t do other work.)… they do house edits on their various (three) houses, and rotate between them all reasonably regularly, and then they vacation (aka grandchildren).

How interesting that must be.

How wonderful that must be… to be able to focus as much time and effort as you want on the grandchildren, and to help your children with them all you want…

Perhaps that is one of the goals people have in life – live well enough and work well enough to be free and available for your children and their children, once the grandchildren come around.

And they do it while living quite well, too… not bad at all…

Yes… perhaps this can be a sort of goal for me, too… work hard, so the kids can have everything beneficial and lovely in their lives, and so they end up pursuing the same for their children, and then be super active and available in the lives of their children while they do the hard work like you did…

It somehow seems unbalanced or unfair or, at least, like it could be done way better… but I haven’t a better solution at the moment, so I’ll keep it in mind and think on it a while in the coming day and weeks and, possibly, years…

Hmm…

Post-a-day 2019

The answering machine commands

Tonight, as my cousin and I had a pause in our music-making, we heard our grandma’s voice on the answering machine, telling us to pick up the phone.  My uncle rushed into the kitchen and picked up the phone, and then spoke with her for a little while, while my cousin and I moved to and sat quietly at the warming fire.

Not one of us had had any idea that the phone was even ringing.  We were simply playing the opening song from Jesus Christ Superstar on the piano (well, my cousin was playing that part), and singing along to it with the odd word discrepancy here and there (It’s amazing how well I can remember the words, despite having not heard it in possibly years.).  With that song, as you must know if you have ever heard it, it is impossible not to sing and play passionately and, well, loudly.  So, it’s no wonder, really, that we hadn’t heard the phone ringing, even though the phone is actually quite loud when it rings…  If you don’t know the song, look it up and listen to it.  Imagine playing and singing that in your living room for some evening time fun.  (Hint: It’s a blast.)  ;D

Post-a-day 2018