Musings from the Organ Bench

I have been playing the organ at our church (formerly South Bend Christian Reformed Church, now Church of the Savior) for about 23 years.  Before that we belonged to a very large Presbyterian Church in Raleigh, North Carolina with a full-time worship director but I always said that if needed I would dust off my organ shoes and play again. 

Even after all these years, when I am driving to church on Sunday morning, I wonder how I have the nerve to sit down at that organ.  I know it is not a performance; it is leading in worship.  And
mistakes are forgiven or not even noticed--unless they are egregious in which case they do disturb a sense of worship!  Sometimes the mistakes are not mine if the power point words do not change in time for the next stanza or someone skips a part of the liturgy.  I have to be ready to adjust and I always need to be alert.  

Last week I played a chorale prelude by Bach to begin the service and a partita by Bach to end it.  As I played Bach, I tried to remember that he put "Soli Deo Gloria" on each piece he composed and that needed to be the goal of my playing as well.  To my surprise the usual noise of fellowship during the postlude became softer and softer and I wondered if there were more folks stopping to listen.  Our worship director asked me if I looked in the rear view mirrors at the organ to check.  It never occurred to me to do so and it was good that I didn't.  I might have lost my place in my color-coded manuscript!  One visitor asked her daughter why everyone was facing the back of church and her daughter said, "Mom, it's J.S. Bach!" 

Well, this week it won't be Bach.  But I love the music I have chosen.  The prelude will be "Rhosydmere" by Ralph Vaughan Williams--still a dead white male but of the 20th century.  The offertory might be based on "New Britain" (aka "Amazing Grace") composed by Elizabeth Krouse, a woman about my age. And the postlude will be "Rondeau" by Carson Cooman, an organist and composer at Harvard who is young enough to be my son.   It's a bit dissonant but not enough to be disconcerting, I think.

Some of our hymns this Sunday are familiar hymn tunes but with contemporary words.  For example, we will be singing the tune "New Britain" to words  from Psalm  40, "I waited patiently for God." Sometimes that bothers me because I know the words from my youth that go with those tunes by heart.

 However, yesterday I was thinking about the cross so I went to the hymnal and sang some of the old familiar hymns.  I have to say that I stumbled on words like "there a precious fountain, free to all a healing stream flows from Calvary's mountain" or "I ask no other sunshine than the sunshine of His face." They did not  increase my devotional spirit.  Sometimes words are of a certain era and not for all times. 

Music is very important to me in worship.  My doubts disappear when I sing "In Christ alone, my  hope is found" and "here in the love of Christ I stand" or "from life's first cry to final breath."

So I pray for our worship tomorrow morning--for those who lead in liturgy and preaching but also for my part and those who will join me in  music. 

Forever Learning

"Forever Learning" is the name of our local senior citizens program in which dozens of courses are offered each spring and fall.  I am taking my fifth course with this program right now. 

I have learned that I do not like group exercise.  My first class was a great opportunity for me to do  ballet, a skill I missed out on in childhood and something I really wanted to try.  I found it difficult to follow instructions and I did not enjoy the 50 minute lesson each week, even though the teacher was very kind calling us her "divas!"  I tried Zumba thinking maybe a more vigorous exercise would be better.  There was another wonderful teacher but I watched the clock hoping for the end to come soon!

I did better in my "couch potato" classes.  "A Ladies Guide to Football" helped me watch games with more awareness and fewer dumb questions for Jim.   Our teacher even treated us to a classroom tailgate party.   "An Introduction to Rare Books" was  taught by a very knowledgeable retired librarian who had a gift for making everyone in the class feel affirmed and welcome.


This fall I am learning the art of calligraphy.  Again the teacher is upbeat, full of energy, and very helpful.  I enjoy the class more each week and my letters don't look terrible.  Some look pretty good! 

It is always good for me to be a learner again.  It is a humbling experience in many ways.  I feel awkward and insecure but basically accepting of those feelings. 

It does bother me that I am not eager to practice my skills or do homework.  I would rather write about calligraphy right now on this blog than to return to the table and practice my majuscules (aka capital letters.) I dabble in all these new areas but don't stick with anything long enough to really pick up the skills. 

I have been a teacher almost all of my working life.  I am still a teacher in my retirement as I volunteer with an adult student at a homeless shelter. It is good for me to be a learner as well.  It helps me to be patient with my student.   Working with her helps me to be patient with myself too.

A Sentimental Journey

We are home again after a 24 hour trip to Grand Rapids and Cadillac.  It was a sentimental journey in more than one way. 

Laura was in Grand Rapids to speak at a conference of state policy think tanks.  She arranged to stay an extra night so that she could visit her 100 year old grandmother.  My own mother died at age 59; my dad remarried, and my Aunt Agnes became the only grandmother my children knew from my side of the family.  Aunt Agnes thought she would never see Laura again; Laura was quite aware that this might be the last time she would see her grandmother.  I had tears in my eyes as we anticipated the journey but also when Aunt Agnes who could not hear that Jim was saying grace before dinner burst in with a prayer herself--a beautiful prayer of thanksgiving and blessing. 

 But it was also a sentimental journey because I was returning to a place of my childhood.  I was delighted to stay at the historic Pantlind Hotel, now known as the Amway Grand Plaza Hotel.  I remembered it as being old and beautiful even when I was a child. We were given a room with a view--a corner room on the 12th floor in the newer towers.

    I took an early morning walk trying to         reconcile my childhood memories with a rejuvenated downtown of restaurants, venues, and offices.  I was totally confused.  Where could the Wurzburg's and Herpolsheimer's and Steketee's Department Stores ever have been in this maze of new buildings?  I knew they were all closed years ago but thought I might recognize the locations where we visited Santa Claus or rode the little Christmas train or shopped for special occasions.  I suddenly realized that Monroe Street was not the Monroe Street of the 1950s.  It is now called Monroe Center and I was so relieved to be re-oriented. Herpolsheimer's is now a police station; Steketee's is an office building with a plaque; and Wurzburg's was demolished with an Art Museum in its place. 

I am quite sure I recognized the steps leading up to a piano studio where my best friend had her lessons.  At age nine, we would take a bus downtown, she would have her lesson, we would shop at a dime store for nail polish and other frivolities, and take a bus home.  I guess we were "free-range kids!" 

The only recognizable shop from those days was Groskopf's, now owned by a fourth generation family member.  When I began 7th grade with changing classes, my parents bought a beautiful blue leather zipper binder for me to keep my work organized.  I wonder how long it lasted and whatever happened to it?  It was a gift that symbolized a rite of passage.

Laura blogged about the trip as well--and called her blog "Make the Trip."  I am so glad she did make the trip and that we also made the trip.

Aging and Ageism

A friend connected with my blog recently when it was titled "A Gift of a 70th Year" and said that she was surprised I was that old.  I said somewhat defensively that I wasn't 70 yet; it was my 70th year.  But I was motivated to change the name of my blog to "The Gift of Another Year" which what I was going to name it next year anyway.  Why did the number "70" scare me?  Am I guilty of ageism even for myself?

Hillary Clinton is almost my age and running for President.  Why does she want to do this at her age?  Joe Biden is even older and thinking of running for President.  This morning I gasped when I heard Diane Rehm say she was 79!  I admire her stamina and expertise as she interviews such a wide  variety of guests almost every day but I admit to thinking that was really old!

  James Bratt in the 12Blog http://blog.perspectivesjournal.org/2015/09/26/the-rest-of-your-life/ wrote about his adjusting to a encouraged retirement from teaching at Calvin College.  I wanted to comment that it will be fine and you'll love it!   However, I have a colleague in adult education who "retired" a few years ago, and called our supervisor back after one weekend, asking what she could do to get back to work!

 So, once again it's worth thinking about what makes a good retirement and why it has been good for me.

Today's Here and Now on NPR had two guests who wrote a book called Staying Sharp.  I tried to examine my own life using  The Nine Keys to Staying Sharp that they recommend. http://hereandnow.wbur.org/2015/09/30/staying-sharp-aging-brain

1.  A youthful brain loves movement.  I try to walk daily.  I certainly will take steps over the elevator any day--as they suggest.  I could do more.  I am not compulsive about 10,000 steps a day.

2.  A youthful brain is well rested.  This is a struggle for me.  When I sleep well, I am full of  energy and optimistic.  But I can't make it happen by trying harder!

3.  A youthful brain is well nourished.  They talked about eating less sugar.   I'd probably give up some of that youthful brain in order to have my rewards of sweets!.

4.  A youthful brain cultivates curiosity. I am curious.  I love sitting at my laptop and following various lines of research.  Today I will check out something about the time of partition in India and Pakistan because of a novel I am reading and my ignorance about that event.

5.  A youthful brain is flexible.  I am happy with the routines of our life--our usual Saturday morning breakfast; a Monday morning walk with a friend; our happy hour when Jim comes home.  But I also like change--a new place to walk, a new recipe to try, a new person to meet.

6.  A youthful brain is optimistic. I could work more on this one. It's too easy to over-think problems and worry.

7.  A youthful brain is empathic.  I try to think about others, encourage others and find ways to help..

8.  A youthful brain is well connected. Our children and grandchildren are many miles away from us.  Retirement has enabled me to spend more time as grandma-in-residence which is good.  Many of our  friends are retired and have moved away.  We are among the very oldest members of our church community.  But email, phone calls, texting, and Facebook have helped with connections--and we are happy to have younger friends as well!

9.  A youthful brain is authentic. Others would have to speak to this as they look at me.  I think the real me is usually obvious--my natural color hair, my comfortable weight, and minimal make-up, but I also don't feel a need to pretend to be anyone else other than who I am.  Other than thinking that 70 years old is pretty old--and I will be there soon!

Patience

A few years ago, I was quite enamored with a flowering plant along a sidewalk in Ocean Grove, New Jersey.  Why did I notice it at night and not during the day?  I began to realize that it bloomed only at night.  Big white flowers glowed in the moonlight and were gone the next day.

Last year I found a moonflower plant at a nearby nursery.  I planted it at our mailbox and waited and waited wondering if it would ever bloom.  It did--but it took until mid-August.

This year I was unable to find any potted plants so I started seeds.  Only a few germinated.  I carefully took one little plant along on our vacation in May and nurtured it.

I planted it again at the mailbox and waited and waited--this time until mid-September!  The first few blooms were hidden among the heavy foliage but I have cut some of that back and there they are!   Maybe three or four big white flowers bloom each night and last until the early morning when they wither and die and fall off the vine. 

If any neighbors are looking, they might see me walking out in my pajamas last thing at night or first thing in the morning--just to take one more look. 

Grandma and Alex at Disney World (not!)

My adventure started in Tampa where Laura was a keynote speaker at a Working Women's Conference.  My job as a "working woman" was to take care of Alex while she went to meetings,  gave her speech and signed many, many books. 


We began our time together by taking a very hot walk (heat index maybe 101 degrees?) and discovering the Tampa Museum of Art with a special Andy Warhol exhibit.  We spent a wonderful 45 minutes in a cool museum looking at colorful art.  Alex mostly enjoyed the sound of his voice echoing in the high chambers.

That wonderful start boded well, but didn't last.  I developed an infection overnight and had to call my South Bend doctor to send a prescription to the nearest pharmacy.  I was glad to start the meds with some relief fairly soon.  This definitely added a source of tension to the trip.

After the speech, Laura drove us to "Fantasy," the rental house, in Kissimmee, Florida.  It is large, comfortable, clean and has a nice little netted-in swimming pool.  It also has scores of movie star photos and Disney statues and stuffed animals.  The house is one of hundreds that all look alike in a very sterile neighborhood where car access is necessary for anything you might want to do.

Laura and Michael and the three older children have four day passes for all the parks and have filled each day with as much as possible.  They come back with lots of stories about roller coasters, character sightings and other exciting rides and shows.

 Alex and I hang out at the house taking walks around the blocks, playing in the pool, and generally keeping out of trouble.  And trouble is everywhere for an 8 month old baby who crawls fast and lifts himself up on tables and sofas and wants to open all cabinets.  Fortunately, he takes good naps and is such a happy baby when he is awake.

I find I don't feel like reading, watching TV, or doing much of anything when Alex naps.  This is the most effort I have put out in the last two days!  But that's OK.  Tomorrow night I should be home with Grandpa and life as usual.  I'm glad I could sleep well at night and have the energy it takes to keep up with a baby--and his siblings who do raise the level of activity when they show up! 

A Week at the Indiana Dunes

I wrote this post yesterday and somehow lost it.  I will try again. It is a good way to keep memories fresh.

I am writing while alone in a quiet room at home. There were quiet moments at night last week, but the days were hectic!

 Laura and Michael and their four children stayed in the Glass House at the top of a dune.  It was literally that--glass on all four sides with a great view of Lake Michigan.  The Guest House was about 30 steps down from there and was
less elaborate but also had a great view of the "big lake."   I stayed alone in the Guest House one night; Jim joined me for three of them; Dan was there for four; and Michael's sister and brother-in-law were also there with us one night.

During the week, Alex learned to pull himself up but not to get down.  There were a few bumps on his little forehead.  He needed constant watching and didn't sleep well at night.  It's a good thing he was so adorably cute and giggly!

I wanted to bring some toys from home for the children and was very proud of the success of my choices.  The Playmobil people which belonged to Laura 30 years ago were the impetus for lots of creative play and the marble construction set which belonged to Dan almost as long ago were used for elaborate trails and spins and drops.  Alex loved banging measuring cups together and Sam used them for his "magic trick" of using surface tension to have them stick together.

A trip to the Shedd Aquarium was another adventure for Laura and Grandma and the kids.  To our surprise, it was a day for seniors to have the "total experience" free.  The Sponge Bob 4D show was great with rumbling seats and spraying water.  We were glad we did not do the Sea Monster show in which sharks poking one in the back may have just been too much!  Ruth seemed to like the touch screens more than the fish tanks.  All the kids loved the submarine and created a rescue scenario that kept them busy for quite a while.  The stuffed animals Grandma bought in the gift shop made up for the free entrance fee!

Uncle Dan joined us en route from a bachelor party near Reno to his home in New York City.  He helped some of us try stand up paddle boarding and was great with sand play with Ruth and amusing Alex.


Kindles are an always present factor.  They can be a lifesaver and also a problem.  I was glad to see that the kids still know how to play imaginatively and physically.  Reading stories did not do well in competition with screen time.

Michael had to make an unplanned trip to South Africa during the time we were at the Dunes.  He knows how to travel but it had to be grueling.  Still he came back in time to go out for an anniversary dinner with Laura on Saturday and then drive the 10 plus hours home on Sunday.  It was probably easier doing the 24 hour trip to Johannesburg than it was the long van trip home!

Grandma Di, Michael's mom, was staying with her sister Janet and brother-in-law Butch at their nearby cottage.  They were all a big help with the kids and with meals.  Michael's cousins were often there to join the fun. 

I love being at Lake Michigan and this was my third week there this summer.  How great to be able to enjoy it with children and grandchildren--just as our parents and grandparents did many, many years ago.