by Liz | Feb 26, 2006 | main
First, the standard details: Stewart was a native of Brewton, AL. He graduated from the University of Alabama and from the UA School of Law… and then he practiced law in Florence, Alabama for nearly 50 years. He was a state senator from 1966-1974.
Stewart married my mother nearly 19 years ago – so when the official obit states that he is survived by his wife, Martha, 3 children and 3 step-children and 9 grandchildren, it might interest you to know that we were not an extended/blended family until 5 of the 6 of us were 30 or more years old.
Given that, it is amazing to watch home movies of us as children – one might be tempted to think that we were already family. Or maybe cousins. One of my early memories is of Stewart holding me and keeping me calm while sweet oil was put in my ear to help with an ear ache.
And so, while I will miss him, and worry about my Mom and how she will cope and get along without his presence, my strongest memories of the time surrounding the funeral are those of the extended family. Of the comfort of having 8 of the 9 grandchildren make the trip for the funeral (and the 9th wanted to come); of sharing the time with this scattered, extended/blended family in a time of sorrow.
Stewart – you left quite a legacy. Not only in your work life (which you loved dearly) but with the families that you and Mama brought together. The love you two shared spilled over to the rest of us, and we thank you.
I’m so glad I believe in the communion of saints – so I know you are still with us.
by Liz | Feb 17, 2006 | main
I’ve so enjoyed the snowboarders this week – they are so unOlympic, so fun. Shaun White observed that his gold medal surely would be a great “babe magnet.” And Kelly Clark going all out – not taking a medal, but taking the women’s sport to a new level. Ya gotta love ’em. They are like a new light shining.
Don’t get me wrong – I appreciate the work and discipline that it takes to get to the top – the seriousness of figure skaters and racers, and skiiers of all stripes. It does take a lot to get there and one must be disciplined. I love the grace and power of those athletes. I worry about the Chinese skater who finished so beautifully after crashing.
But — there’s always a “but” – the joy and love of the sport that shines through the snowboarders – now that gets to me.
by Liz | Feb 11, 2006 | main
There was a grand explosion of tension at work yesterday. In the middle of what I thought was an open discussion concerning the reworking of our network (web server(s), database server, SAMBA server, new boxes etc), I thought I was asking questions when one of the guys exploded. I took a direct, verbal hit. Wham! I could see the faces of the 2 other guys in the conversation expressing “duck and cover” – after a couple of what my shrink would call “repair attempts” I just walked away.
It’s emotionally distressing to be slammed out of the blue – the response from my co-worker (Deryck) seems erratic and unreasonable. I have reviewed the situation in my mind, and it occurred to me that perhaps I owed him an apology – but for what? I asked Chris about it after lunch (he had lunch with Deryck) and he was a bit dodgy, but when pressed is response was “I think you were asking questions and they weren’t being heard that way.” I even asked how I might have presented the questions in such a way that they would be taken that way, and he said he’d have to think about it… his only real statement was “You and Deryck need to talk.” I can buy that! The other participant, Jon, asked if I was OK – and said that Deryck felt bad about it, and had apologized to him. Meanwhile, Deryck had left to take his adorable, little daughter to the doc.
And so, I have the weekend to mull this over. The only apology I could think to make was to apologize for “being” – and I really can’t do that. It makes me wonder what else was/is going on with Deryck that none of the rest of us knew about.
On the bright side, I’m not sinking into depression over it. It’s taken years of work and therapy, but I am comfortable enough with myself not to just run and hide, to allow myself a couple of tears of pain and frustration, and be open to trying to understand just what role I played in the explosion. I just hope things are ok in Deryck’s life.
This didn’t write up very well – so just sign me off as “Clueless” —
by Liz | Jan 22, 2006 | main
I was on the Frappr map for StBlogsParish to see if there were any stickpins for my part of the world, and I found Barefoot Catholic. Anyway, Sean is talking about assisted suicide, “Law and Order”, etc and he takes note of the fact that where Catholic Christians are most obviously differentiated from Protestant Christians is in the understanding of “Take and eat, this is my Body.”
Amen. If I have to explain why I am an RC and not still a protestant flavor Christian, it would have to be mass and that realization that “Take and Eat” is far more powerful than I have previously understood. That said, I have noticed that several of the protestant churches around have begun to have communion services on a far more frequent basis than seemed to be the case when I was younger. Perhaps, in time, the awareness of the power of the Supper of the Lord will spread and unite us all.
by Liz | Jan 22, 2006 | main
After a session with my friend, confessor and spiritual comrade, I’m back on the search to understand the feminine faces of God. First on my suggested reading list:
I’m anticipating that this will require some work on my part. The last book I read by Elizabeth Johnson was “She Who Is” – it was a wonderful, mind/eye/heart opening experience, but it was the hardest thing I think I’ve ever read. And worth all the work.
As a new RC, some 32 or so years ago, and for many years, I had great difficulty with Mary. Growing up as a mainline protestant (Presbyterian, with Southern Baptist grandparents), this is not surprizing. However, as I have begun to accept that Mary made a choice to follow a call, against all manner of odds, and as I have found comfort in a mother’s touch, I find that my understanding of God’s Love is reflected so strongly in my understanding of her. I find myself being drawn back to reading Carol Lee Flinders’ “Enduring Grace” — the women she profiles left deep marks when I read this book the first time.
And so, I pick up my walking stick and begin again.
