Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Sunday, August 24

This morning one of my friends and fellow Prucom member, Cynthia, is doing the sermon at church.  When I go in the door, I am given an order of service and a slip of paper that say sensuality on it.  During the service, we are asked to think about the word written on our slip of paper, and how it might be connected to ourselves.  I think it is very curious that I have pulled this particular piece of paper out of a pile of many.  It is definitely something for me to think about, given my current state of being.

One of the things I love about the summer services is when we have people from our congregation give us a sermon.  It is an opportunity to see people in a way they are not often seen.  They have such interesting things to talk about, fascinating lives, and I think they are extremely brave.  To stand in front of people who see you often and bare your soul in this way is something that takes more courage than I know.

Cynthia's  sermon is very powerful, touching on personal points many people can relate to.  One of the most amazing things she shared with us was an obituary she wrote for herself, reflecting what she would like to be remembered for after she is gone.   There are plenty of moist eyes when the service is over.  Cynthia has touched many people.

I mean to leave church early, but as often happens, I get into conversations with people and leave at the very last moment I can before the next thing I have to do begins.

One of my oldest friends is coming by to meet me after church. It is Alice, who I met in junior high school forty years ago. She moved to Maine some time ago, and I haven't seen her in years. We had reconnected and been writing faithfully back and forth for a time over a year ago, but things got busy, and time to harder to find.  I am really looking forward to seeing her.

Since I have spent so much time at church my house is kind of messy when she arrives.  I have learned to not worry so much about the state of my house when people are visiting, I do what I can, and hope they won't mind.

When Alice gets out of her car, she is near tears.  We hug for a long time, and apologize to each other for the absence.  She is relieved to see that I am doing well.  I am just happy she has come to visit me.  There are gifts from her farm, tomatoes and cucumbers she has grown, honey she harvested from her bees, and jam she has made.  There is also a quilt her sister has made, green and blue and beautiful.

We have a nice lunch together, catching up on so many things. Alice offers to take me anywhere I might need to go, but instead we go for a walk in Swan Point Cemetery.  We look at the trees and she tells me about many of them. We both learn a few new trees from the name plates posted on the trunks of some of them.  When we get back to my house, we continue to talk until she needs to leave.  She has been in town for her father's ninety second birthday, and needs to get back.  We start to say goodbye, but talk a while longer.  Finally, she really needs to be on her way, and I watch as she drives off.  It has been a relaxing, beautiful day, that passed by much too quickly.


  1. That was a wonderful visit. You are right, I am relieved to see how well you are doing. You are glowing, actually! Is this possible???


  2. I wonder if Alice's farm is near Portland as I fall asleep in my home town.