memorials

Today is the sixth anniversary of my mother’s death. I know many people who, even decades later, tell me they think of their deceased mother every day. I confess that I can’t make that claim. While I spoke to my mother nearly every day of my life, this became increasingly difficult in the last months of her life as her heart failure robbed her brain of oxygen. After her death, I had many months of flashbacks to those last difficult years, while also dealing with my father’s grief. He used to talk to and about my mother often, but, over time, his own heart failure erased the memory of her death. Toward the end, he would ask when she was coming to visit him in the skilled nursing unit and all I could say is that he would see her soon.

The photo above is of the memorials we placed at the memorial park where their cremains are inurned. I wrote this post explaining their significance when we placed them in 2022.

On Mother’s Day, I went to visit their resting place and was shocked to find that our memorials had been removed. I contacted the office, hoping that they had been placed in storage but they were just gone.

Alone in the room near my parents’ grave, I cried and told them I was sorry that these special memorials had been lost.

I think that is the only time that I have spoken aloud to my parents there.

My family has been supportive of me as I’ve dealt with the loss of these special and meaningful memorials to my parents. I’ve decided to print a photo of them and put it in a plastic frame to place on the table near their grave. That way, if it disappears, I would be able to replace it easily.

In the post linked above, I wrote about feeling more at peace when we placed the memorial. I think I had come to a place in living with loss where I could set aside the trauma of my parents’ final years and deaths and have better memories surface. I’m not sure if that is the point where I stopped thinking about my parents every day or not.

What I do know every day is that my parents gifted me not only with life but also with the foundation of who I am.

Their legacy is always with me, whether or not I bring it to consciousness.

One-Liner Wednesday: connections?

Why are there no medical specialists in connective tissue when it is what holds us together?

This burning question for EDS/HSD Awareness Month brought to you as part of Linda’s One-Liner Wednesday. Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2025/05/21/one-liner-wednesday-600/

One-Liner Wednesday: carrot cake

The yet-to-be-revealed dessert choice that B made for Mother’s Day was carrot cake with cream cheese icing.

Join us for Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2025/05/14/one-liner-wednesday-one-of-two/

Mother’s Day 2025

This photo from almost eight years ago is three generations of mothers in my family, Nana and me with daughter E holding baby ABC, my first grandchild and Nana’s first great-gandchild.

This Mother’s Day is without Nana, who passed away in May 2019, and with E and ABC living in London, where Mother’s Day was celebrated a couple of months ago.

Here, B baked squash maple muffins for breakfast and is planning a special dinner, chicken and artichokes over artichoke ravioli with a yet-to-be-revealed-to me dessert. Daughter T is here with us, which is a blessing.

Still, if feels strange to not be with any of the other mothers in my family, except in spirit.

I am wearing a shirt that was my mother’s, a gift from our friend Angie, who passed away twenty years ago.

Mother’s Day began as a call for peace. (That post contains Julia Ward Howe’s original proclamation, still well worth reading in our current war-torn world.) Today, I wish peace to all, especially to all who have mothered others, whether still living or deceased.

Love and compassion bring peace.

One-Liner Wednesday: my new yard sign

Our new yard sign to send the message to preserve our health programs in the United States.

Join us for Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2025/05/07/one-liner-wednesday-this-wont-do/

Pope Francis

(Image by manfred Kindlinger from Pixabay)

Before the conclave to choose his successor begins, I want to take a moment to write about Pope Francis, who died on Easter Monday after twelve years as pope.

From the moment that he was announced after his election with the name Francis, I knew he would be a different kind of pope than his immediate predecessors, especially when he asked the people to bless him before he blessed them. Like St. Francis of Assisi, Pope Francis dedicated himself to peace, to serving all people, especially the most vulnerable, and to caring for creation. I appreciate how he led the church in those directions while also offering his message to the whole world.

Within the church, he opened the door to greater listening and dialogue, especially through the synodal process that included the laity as well as clergy. This was especially meaningful to me as John Paul II and Benedict XVI tended to shut down discussion and silence voices that offered a different viewpoint. Francis also engaged with people of other faiths and philosophies around the world, travelling broadly and meeting with people in many different circumstances. He would even acknowledge that when he would ask people to bless him or pray for him by asking people who did not have a prayer tradition to offer their well wishes on his behalf.

I appreciated Francis’s humility in choosing to live simply in Casa Santa Marta rather than the opulent papal apartment. He dressed simply and liked to be out among the people. Even his funeral showed his humility. He simplified the papal rite so that it was recognizable to anyone that has planned a Catholic funeral. Only the final commendation and funeral procession through Rome stood out as being papal in scope. One of the most moving moments was when his body arrived for burial at the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore, where he was greeted by the poor of Rome and children carried baskets of flowers to place before the altar. The inscription for his grave reads simply Franciscus.

As an environmentalist, my favorite writing of Pope Francis’s is his first encyclical, Laudato Si’, which called for everyone in the world to care for our common home, the earth, and for other people, especially the most vulnerable. It was important in securing the Paris Accord and remains, along with its companion, Laudate Deum, a continuing challenge to how we address the climate crisis and social inequities.

As a feminist and progressive Catholic, I appreciate that Francis invited discussion of women’s role in the Church and appointed women to positions of authority they had never before occupied. However, it was disappointing that he could not see the full vocation of women in church and society. Still, we are further along the path toward the radical inclusion that Jesus modeled for us than we were and for that I am grateful.

Like many Catholics, I will be watching for the white smoke to rise from the Sistine Chapel where the cardinals will meet to select the next pope. The name he chooses may give us a window into the direction in which he will lead the church. For example, a John XXIV would continue in the direction of Vatican II and Francis’s synodality while a Benedict XVII would likely call for a “smaller, purer Church” that would exclude people like me.

The word catholic means universal. Pope Francis spoke to that sense of universality which I hope the next pope will continue.

In a small group a few days ago, we were invited to pray that the next pope be a woman who would take the name Clare and continue in the mode of St. Francis of Assisi and St. Clare. The Holy Spirit would have to blow through the conclave with hurricane force for that prayer to be fulfilled, but, maybe, some day?

Only God knows.

May the fourth

The overhead warning signs on Route 17/86 near Binghamton, New York flashed this message:

Slow down you must.
Arrive safely you will.

They were channeling Yoda because today is May the fourth, the tongue-in-cheek day to celebrate the Stars Wars franchise because the dialogue sometimes included the phrase, “May the force be with you.”

I thought I should provide the explanation because some readers would have no context on this, due to their generation, cultural background, or obliviousness to Star Wars. 😉

(Image by martin from Pixabay)

SoCS: singing

I like to sing.

I have been singing for as long as I can remember. When I started school, we had a music teacher who came once a week to lead music class. Our classroom teacher also played the piano and would sometimes have us sing in the classroom which was combined first through fourth grade. She had been trained at a normal school before there were education colleges in our area and I think that grammar school teachers for young children had to learn piano as part of their program.

When I was in sixth grade, I was old enough to sing in the choir at church. Because it was a small church, the choir only sang at Christmas and for Holy Week. I sang with them until my sophomore year in high school when I became the organist. Then, I was always singing as I played the hymns. It helps your playing because you are more observant of reflecting when breaths should be taken.

In high school in a city about twenty miles from our little town, I got to sing every day! I sang with the mixed chorus and later also with a small girls’ ensemble. I learned to smile, sing, and do a bit of choreography at the same time, a skill that doesn’t seem all that useful but actually is. It makes it easier to convey the emotion of what you are singing to your audience.

When I was at Smith College, singing was a big part of my life. I worked my way through the extensive choral program at the time, starting with Choir Alpha as a first year, College Choir the next year, and my final two years in Glee Club. I also accompanied for two years for Choir Alpha. As an organist who was Catholic, I also frequently played for mass at Helen Hills Hills Chapel. I got married there the month after I graduated.

When we moved to Broome County, NY, I began to sing with the (Binghamton) University Chorus. (Actually, B had already moved and was working out here when we married, so I guess I should have said when I moved.) I sang with them until they unceremoniously disappeared, just prior to the pandemic. I still miss that group, which was a town/gown group, meaning that we had singers both from the university (students/faculty/staff) and from the broader community.

Until 2005, I also did some singing at my church with our Resurrection Choir, which ministered at funerals. It was sometimes difficult but was so important for the family to have us there to represent the parish in their time of grief.

I had thought when University Chorus ended that I would never have another choir gig but, after the pandemic shutdown, I attended a concert with the Madrigal Choir of Binghamton and found out they had openings for sopranos. This was a bit of a shock as choirs usually have more sopranos than they know what to do with but some people had moved away during the pandemic so they had lost some singers. I knew the director because I had sung with him when he directed University Chorus for 25 or so years before he retired and was very happy when he accepted me into Madrigal Choir.

Despite my current health issues, I’ve been continuing to sing with them and hope to as long as I’m able and my voice holds out. I’m lucky that I don’t have a big natural vibrato, which helps my voice to not get as much shake or wobble as some older singers get.

I hope.
*****
Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is “sing.” Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2025/05/02/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-may-3-2025/

One-Liner Wednesday: Thomas Paine on the people in a republic

When a people agree to form themselves into a republic … it is understood that they mutually resolve and pledge themselves to each other, rich and poor alike, to support this rule of equal justice among them … (and) they renounce as detestable, the power of exercising, at any future time any species of despotism over each other, or of doing a thing not right in itself, because a majority of them may have the strength of numbers sufficient to accomplish it.

Thomas Paine (1776), giving us a timely reminder on the eve of Law Day in the United States

Join us for Linda’s One-Liner Wednesday! More info here: https://lindaghill.com/2025/04/30/one-liner-wednesday-all-in/. My apologies to my email subscribers who probably received this post yesterday when I mistakenly published it on Tuesday instead of Wednesday. Brain fog is a thing…

Double-header Saturday

I realize that title seems like baseball, but it’s not, although Cooperstown is involved…

Despite my current health issues, I managed to attend two major events on Saturday.

In the afternoon, I sang-along with parts two and three of Handel’s Messiah. This was an event offered by the Madrigal Choir of Binghamton, with whom I serve as a singer and board member. Our artistic director, John M. Vaida, conducted a volunteer chamber orchestra and soloists with a chorus made up of those who showed up to sing along. Most of us were members of Madrigal Choir or Downtown Singers, although I think there were a few who aren’t presently in either group. It was a lot of fun to sing with old and new friends without the pressure of performance. Madrigal Choir hopes to do more events like this in the future.

Next up was heading to the Fenimore Art Museum, just outside Cooperstown, for the Write Out Loud ’25 reading, made possible only because spouse B did the driving, as we live about an hour and a half from there. I had been accepted to Write Out Loud ’24 last year with a poem from my chapbook, Hearts. When submissions opened for this year’s event, I sent the call on to my poet-friends in the area and I’m pleased to say that the Grapevine Poets from the Binghamton area were well represented this year with Merrill Oliver Douglas, Jessica Dubey, Richard Braco, and me all having work accepted.

Merrill read her poem, “Meditation in Walmart,” as the second piece in the program, with Richard reading “Pole Star Child” as the next-to-last piece in the program. Accepted writers have the option to read their own work or to have a member of the theater company affiliated with the Fenimore perform their piece. Cait Liberati read Jessica’s poem, “Love Birds.” Jessica wished that she could have been there to read it herself but she was away on a trip. I was thrilled with Sharon Rankins-Burd’s reading of my poem, “The Bridge“! I had planned to have an actor read my poem from the start because my health situation is too uncertain. I also appreciate hearing what a trained actor does with my words.

The Fenimore Art Museum has released the recording on their YouTube channel. If you click “more” in the description, it will open the program with links to the beginning of each piece.

I had figured that expending that much energy in a day would knock me for a loop and it did. I spent most of the day yesterday in bed and will lay low today, too, just going out for physical therapy. I’m grateful that I was able to attend these events and hope that we are able to get a better handle on my diagnosis and treatment options soon so that I have more energy to do two things in one day – or even one thing…