Tag: church

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/

DEI

The sign at my church, St. Francis of Assisi, this weekend:
D E I is what the kingdom of God is about.

Amen!

Jubilee

Linda’s Just Jot It January offers daily prompts, which I usually ignore to do my own thing, but today I decided to use the provided prompt, jubilee.

Because I’m not feeling well, I attended mass via television this morning and the homily talked about the Jubilee Year of Hope that Pope Francis proclaimed for 2025.

Jubilees in the Catholic Church have their basis in the Hebrew Scriptures, which call for a jubilee every fifty years. Popes have followed that tradition for years ending in 00 and 50, but also sometimes add other special jubilees, as Francis did here.

Jubilees are calls for liberation, freedom, and the forgiveness of debts and Francis explains how these pertain to our present time, especially for those who are marginalized or, too often, overlooked.

Given that hope tends to be a difficult virtue for me, perhaps this year dedicated to hope will help me to be a better “pilgrim of hope,” as Francis terms it.

May all those in need be given hope, freedom, and resources in this Jubilee Year.

One-Liner Wednesday: AGO Members concert!

Binghamton area folks are cordially invited to attend the Members Recital of our local chapter of the American Guild of Organists on Sunday, June 2, 2024 at 4 PM at the United Presbyterian Church of Binghamton, 42 Chenango Street.

Join us for Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2024/05/29/one-liner-wednesday-wisdom/

Christmas ’23

I’ve been struggling with whether or not to write a post for Christmas Day.

Maybe, it’s because I’ve been struggling with just about everything related to Christmas this year.

For so many years, the Christmas season brought most of our extended family together, often over a period of days and in various constellations, but this year, it will be just me, spouse B, and daughter T at home together. Daughter E and her family are celebrating an ocean away at home in London. B’s and my siblings are all busily dealing with their families and/or medical issues.

This lack of planned travel and guests turned out to have a silver lining when T was offered a slot for a needed shoulder surgery last week due to a cancellation in the surgeon’s schedule. So, our already subdued Christmas plan got even quieter as we have factored in the early stages of recovery.

While I’ve done some of the Christmas preparations, like singing in Lessons & Carols with the Madrigal Choir of Binghamton, writing Christmas cards and letters, and some gift-shopping and wrapping, the bulk of the decorating, cooking, and baking has been handled by B, with an assist from T prior to her surgery.

I’m sure that my feeling more somber than festive is not helped by the state of the world. The continuing horrors of war in Ukraine, the Middle East, Sudan, and elsewhere. The ever-increasing evidence of climate change impacts. The increasingly vile political rhetoric and threats against judges, Jewish people, Muslims, immigrants, pubic officials, etc. here in the US. The local battle against CO2 fracking with global implications here in the Southern Tier of New York. Increases in cases of flu and COVID in the Northern Hemisphere as winter sets in.

This somber time we face is also reflected in my religious observances. For many years, I was actively involved in music and liturgy planning for Advent and the Christmas season, but I haven’t been for a number of years now. While I still attend and participate in services, some of the anticipation and joy is muted for me.

It’s also true that there are many difficult issues raised by the nativity narrative that seem particularly salient to me this year. The real dangers that Mary faced as a young woman facing pregnancy before marriage. Her being forced to travel and give birth away from the comforts of home and neighbor-women who could come to her aid. The threats to her baby’s life. The slaughter of children ordered in an attempt to kill him. Fleeing to protect her child and their becoming refugees.

Angels and magi aside, there was a lot of pain, fear, and loss.

With all of this in my head, I went to 10 PM mass at my church for Christmas Eve. There was a photo of the baby Jesus amid rubble as displayed at a Palestinian-Lutheran Church in Bethlehem, the birthplace of Jesus on the West Bank, where Christmas observances usually draw crowds from around the world but are not being publicly held this year because of the war. The homily dealt directly with the struggle that I have been having this year and called on us to have hope. As part of the homily, we sang the first verse of “O Little Town of Bethlehem” near the beginning and the fourth, final verse at the end. We sang:

O holy Child of Bethlehem,
descend to us, we pray;
cast out our sin and enter in;
be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels,
the great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
our Lord Emmanuel!

Phillips Brooks

The message is to have hope because God, who is Divine and Eternal Love, is with all people of good will, as the angels announce.

I admit that hope is not one of my better virtues, but I will continue to add my actions, small though they are, in the efforts to make the world safer, more loving, more kind.

After all these centuries, still searching for the peace the angels proclaimed…

SoCS: concert update

Just back from a long day that featured the first of Madrigal Choir’s Lessons and Carols performances. It was in a small church to our north. Our audience was small but appreciative. It gives me confidence in our performance in our home county tomorrow, which will draw a larger number of listeners.

Now, I need to get some rest…
*****
This short and sweet post is part of Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday series. The prompt this week is “confidence.” You can find out more about SoCS here: https://lindaghill.com/2023/12/01/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-dec-2-2023/

SoCS: meeting up

This will be super short because I’m going to meet up with a lot of people today. (Well, a lot for me, at least!)

This morning, I have a Creation Care Team meeting at church.

From early afternoon through early evening, I’ll be going to a gathering of women, organized by a friend and being held at the retreat space of another. There will be expressive arts, chair yoga, an opportunity to walk a labyrinth, companionship, and, of course, some food. I made a big bowl of applesauce to bring and share. Very indicative of fall in the Northeast.

I don’t usually see that many people in a day – or, perhaps, it’s more accurate to say I don’t usually interact with that many people in a day.

Change of pace…
*****
Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is “meat/meet/mete.” Join us ! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2023/11/03/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-4-2023/

remembering Paul

Yesterday, for the second time in a week, I attended a memorial service. My spouse B and I attended services for Paul Everett. Paul and B had been co-workers at IBM for many years before Paul had to leave work for health reasons.

While Anita’s had been a Catholic funeral, Paul’s service was in the Reformed Protestant tradition. Because it was in non-liturgical form, the service was more easily molded to reflect Paul’s life and gifts, which, if you read the obituary linked above, you will realize were many and varied.

For example, all the music in the service was arranged by Paul for folk instruments. Paul had hosted a weekly folk session for many years and compiled his beginner-friendly arrangements in the Wednesday Night Jam Canonical Tune Book. B and I had chosen seats near the ensemble, which included guitars, piano, accordion, tin whistle, fiddle, and hammered dulcimer, an instrument that Paul had both constructed and played. The gathering music took place at the beginning of the service rather than before it so that we could listen and reflect instead of being distracted by conversation.

The homily was given by Paul’s son Isaac, who inherited his father’s love of music and theology, studied them, and became both a professional musician and an ordained minister. Isaac used his father’s love for the Book of Jonah as a lens to relate who his father was. It was moving and heart-felt and beautifully crafted. I’m sure Paul, who had served as a deacon and lay preacher himself, would have been proud. Isaac also played guitar and piano during the service.

During fellowship time after the service, B was able to connect with some retired IBMers who were in attendance and reminisce about Paul, including his adventures and misadventures building boats and taking them out on the waters. Fortunately, Paul’s nautical journeys went better than Jonah’s!

Later in the afternoon, I went to vigil mass at my home parish. The opening hymn was “Here I Am, Lord” which was the gathering song for Anita’s funeral. At communion, we sang “Precious Lord, Take My Hand” which we had sung at Paul’s memorial service. The echo of these songs calls me to reflect on what my call is at this time of my life, increasingly cognizant that I am much closer to the end of my life than the beginning.

Rest in peace, Anita. Rest in peace, Paul. Thank you for your example of how to live fully until the end.
*****
Join us for Linda’s Just Jot It January! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2023/01/15/daily-prompt-jusjojan-the-15th-2023/

a quiet Christmas

Spouse B, daughter T, and I were on our own this Christmas. While we had originally hoped that daughter E, son-in-law L, and granddaughters ABC and JG were going to be able to join us from London, UK, circumstances prevented that, probably a blessing in disguise given the travel disruptions caused by the extreme weather here in the US.

We here in Broome County, New York, were spared the worst of the storm. While it was cold and windy, we didn’t get a lot of snow and ice. Our hearts go out to places that suffered flooding or blizzard conditions. Erie County, about 200 miles to our west, has reported 25 deaths so far from the intense blizzard.

I did change my plan for when I went to church, in deference to the cold. I decided to attend the 4 PM vigil rather than the 10 PM. We had a prelude program from a wonderful brass quintet from Southern Tier Brass. I especially appreciated their rendition of “Lo, How a Rose” which was arranged from the Brahms organ chorale prelude that I learned when I was in college and which has always been a favorite of mine.

I also loved the introduction to the liturgy, which welcomed everyone whatever their state in life. It meant a lot to me to hear such an explicit statement of universality. The word catholic means universal but the Church has often strayed from that concept. I appreciated hearing this all-encompassing welcome at Christmas-time when people who aren’t members are often in attendance while visiting family or friends.

In the evening, B, T, and I watched Miracle on 34th Street, which is celebrating its 75th anniversary this year. T had never seen it and it had been many years since B and I had watched it. It was a sweet way to spend Christmas Eve.

In the morning, we enjoyed cranberry and date nut bread so breakfast, made by B who does a lot of the cooking and baking, especially over the holidays. We opened stockings and gifts. I was especially pleased to receive a 10th generation iPad from B; our current one is 2nd generation, so definitely a step up!

We had a chance to video chat with our London family when it was mid-morning here and mid-afternoon there. The energy of a two- and a five-year-old was palpable, even five time zones away. B and I were also lucky to have phone conversations with our siblings.

When E and T were young, celebrating Christmas was a days-long endeavor. Christmas Day would be spent with my parents who lived nearby. In the following days, my sisters would arrive with their families for a couple of days and then we would travel to B’s parents’ home in Vermont, which usually involved a celebration with his extended family. Days and days of gifts, socializing, and eating.

With just the three of us, we scaled back on the extent of our traditional holiday fare. B did make lasagna for Christmas dinner, using Nana’s recipe. He also made fresh, artisanal bread and sauteed asparagus, followed by tiramisu for dessert. On Christmas Day, we used to have a variety of homemade Christmas cookies for dessert; we would make eight or so types, sometimes supplemented by homemade dried-fruit fruitcake and chocolate fudge. At the moment, we only have two kinds of cookies, pecan puffs from B’s family recipe and cranberry-pistachio biscotti.

Although our celebration was scaled down this year, it felt right, homey and comfortable and mostly low-stress.

I don’t know if we will ever return to a predictable pattern for Christmas celebrations. With all our elder generation now passed on, it’s unlikely that we will have big, extended family gatherings as we were accustomed. Last year, the first Christmas after Paco passed away, we went to London for three weeks over the holidays, just as the first wave of Omicron was cresting. It was complicated.

The pandemic has reinforced the lesson to expect the unexpected and to be open to change. It’s difficult because we often carve certainty and routine. The parlance you often hear is “return to normal.” For me, there is no way for that to happen – for holidays or for much of the rest of life.

So, this year I will be content with a quiet Christmas, having no idea what next year will bring but hoping I will have the grace and support to handle it.

SoCS: if only…

If only I could organize my days…

or life…

is something I have been saying to myself off and on for years.

The truth is that most of my adult life has been spent as a caregiver, some of it in very challenging situations dealing with long-term illnesses.

Not the kind of life that lends itself to following a daily schedule. If you ever think you know what is happening on a given day, chances are the phone will ring in the morning and you will be off dealing with some need that has arisen.

Let me be clear that none of this is a complaint. Rather it’s just a statement of fact – and evidence that I was privileged enough to be able to choose a life of unpaid caregiving instead of needing to take paid work and cramming in the caregiving around my employer’s schedule.

The day after Paco’s death, the hospice social worker said to me that now I could figure out what I wanted to do. We had first met during my mother’s illness, so she had some idea of what my life has been like over at least the last few years, if not decades.

While it’s true that I have spouse B and daughter T at home, we are able to collaborate on taking care of the house and each other, so the years of intensive caregiving are probably over for a while, as long as we all remain reasonably healthy.

So, I’m starting to piece together how I want to spend my time in the coming months. Admittedly, right now I am necessarily busy with settling Paco’s estate and final bills and insurance claims and such, which takes a lot more time and energy than you might think if you have never had to do this for a loved one.

I’m trying to keep from jumping back into everything I have put on hold in the past because I think there is a danger of over-committing and exhaustion. I do know that I want to spend more time with writing, so, perhaps, finally regularly posting here again.

I also need to return to spending serious amounts of time with my poetry. During the recent Boiler House Poets Collective residency, I was able to re-connect with my full-length manuscript that revolves around that area and my family’s connections with it. I am going to do a review of it with the Grapevine Group, my local poetry circle, later this month and then do revisions and look for submissions opportunities. I also need to look for more opportunities for my chapbook, as the rejections have been rolling in over these last months so it is only out at a few places at the moment.

I am considering auditioning for a local chorus, although that might not be until after the holidays. I expect that, for the first time in many years, we may travel for both Thanksgiving and Christmas.

I am staying in the loop but not spending a ton of time on environmental and political issues. I still send letters and do public comment on social justice and environmental causes and send emails to my elected representatives but I am trying not to spend hours every day on it, as I did for years during the height of the anti-fracking fight in New York. I admire the energy and commitment of today’s younger activists and support their efforts as best I can.

Church volunteering is still on hold. Eventually, the book study I facilitate may return but only if we can meet safely indoors unmasked. We aren’t there yet.

So, can I do this? Can I re-organize my life and have it stick?

Maybe.

If nothing dire happens…
*****
Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week was to being the post with the word if. Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2021/10/15/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-october-16-2021/