Priscilla's Blog

Feb 5 was the eight month anniversary of my husband, Rodney’s death.

I don’t look forward to those anniversary days, but it became a day of happenings.

It all started at worship that morning. I looked to see what the scripture was and gulped. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing: Isaiah 40: 21-31. This passage ends with:

“Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.”

Rodney and I have sung those words for years. First, in our work with the Institute of Cultural Affairs. Later just in our family. Many many years these words have been meaningful for both of us.

Then in the afternoon, another happening. To the Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts to hear Mahler’s 2nd Symphony. Mark Ball, our choir director went with me. I had not heard this symphony before but as I listened to it on Saturday on YouTube I knew it was special. It is called the Resurrection Symphony so I looked up the program notes…the description is powerful and blessed. Thoughts of Rodney swam through my head throughout the performance. Mahler’s music is beyond sublime.

The Program Notes:

Resurrection, Symphony No. 2 in C minor            Gustav Mahler

The composer wrote of the Symphony: “1st movement. We stand by the coffin of a well-loved person. His life, struggles, passions and aspirations once more, for the last time, pass before our mind’s eye. — And now in this moment of gravity and of emotion which convulses our deepest being, our heart is gripped by a dreadfully serious voice which always passes us by in the deafening bustle of daily life: What now? What is this life — and this death? Do we have an existence beyond it? Is all this only a confused dream, or do life and this death have a meaning? — And we must answer this question if we are to live on.

(No intermission…but a 5 minutes pause for reflection and meditation between the 1st and 2nd movements.)

“2nd movement — Andante (in the style of a Ländler). You must have attended the funeral of a person dear to you and then, perhaps, the picture of a happy hour long past arises in your mind like a ray of sun undimmed — and you can almost forget what has happened.

“3rd movement — Scherzo, based on Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt. When you awaken from the nostalgic daydream [of the preceding movement] and you return to the confusion of real life, it can happen that the ceaseless motion, the senseless bustle of daily activity may strike you with horror. Then life can seem meaningless, a gruesome, ghostly spectacle, from which you may recoil with a cry of disgust!

“4th movement — Urlicht (mezzo-soprano solo). The moving voice of naïve faith sounds in our ear: I am of God, and desire to return to God! God will light me to eternal bliss!

“5th movement. We again confront all the dreadful questions and the mood of the end of the first movement. The Last Judgment is announced and the ultimate terror of this Day of Days has arrived. The ‘Great Summons’ resounds: the trumpets of the apocalypse call. Softly there sounds a choir of saints and heavenly creatures: ‘Thou shalt rise again.’ And the glory of God appears. All is still and blissful. And behold: there is no judgment; there are no sinners, no righteous ones, no great and no humble — there is no punishment and no reward! An almighty love shines through us.”

The words for soloists and chorus:

Oh red rose! Man lies in deepest need, Man lies in deepest pain. Much would I rather be in heaven!

Then I came onto a broad path: An angel came and wanted to send me away. Ah, no! I would not be sent away. I am from God and will return to God! Dear God will give me a light, Will illumine me to eternal, blessed life!

*** Chorus and Soprano

Rise again, yes you will rise again, my dust, after a short rest: Immortal life will He who called you grant to you.

To bloom again you are sown! The Lord of the harvest goes and gathers sheaves, even us, who died!

Mezzo-Soprano

O believe, my heart, o believe, Nothing will be lost to you! What you longed for is yours, Yours, what you have loved, what you have struggled for!

O believe, You were not born in vain! You have not lived in vain, Suffered in vain!

Chorus

What was created must pass away! What has passed away must rise! Cease trembling! Prepare yourself to live!

Soprano and Mezzo-Soprano

O suffering! You that pierce all things, From you have I been wrested! O death! You that overcome all things, now you are overcome!

With wings that I have won for myself in the fervent struggle of love, I shall fly away to the light which no eye has pierced.

Chorus I shall die in order to live!

Soloists and Chorus

Rise again, yes you will rise again, my heart, in the twinkling of an eye! What you have conquered will carry you to God!

“Grief is like a roller coaster ride,” so says one of the many books I have piled on our bed. It is the most helpful line I have read as the holidays approach. The most unexpected things send the cart I’m riding tumbling in a downward swoop.

Thanksgiving just happened and Christmas approaches with racetrack speed. How do I celebrate the holidays differently this year?

Our first year of marriage we obediently ate Christmas dinner twice. Rodney and my parents lived three blocks apart. Both households wanted us to be part of their festivities. To eat two Christmas dinners on the same day is painful. We changed course after that first year. Christmas day dinner became an every other year event. One year with Wilsons, next year with Hutchinsons, etc.

That was fifty-nine years ago. Now Rodney isn’t here for the holidays. Different meals. Different ways to participate with family. Everything is different.

Even the music the choir is preparing for our December 18 Tidings of Joy concert is different. Alleluia! The traditional and expected give me pause.

Decorating is a puzzlement. No tree this year except that tiny fake one. Too many memories tied to trees. For years we took the children to Henry’s Garden Shop to choose as big a tree as possible. We chatted with Henry as we warmed our hands over the fire roaring in a large metal barrel. And we argued very year about the size of the tree. I wanted bigger…Rodney always pushed for smaller.

I began collecting Nativity Sets years ago. It is easy to get so busy during the holidays that Christmas comes and goes and we miss the Holy. A house full of Nativity sets reminds me that Christmas is a Holy time. People across the globe express that in many different ways.

What about the Nativity sets this year? I don’t think I can put them all out. This year I’ll chose the ones most connected to special memories with Rodney.

The large straw Nativity from Portugal caused a lot of conversation. Purchased when we were dead tired after leading a three-week Rotary Work camp in the villages of the Montemuro Mountains. Rodney worried out loud “How will you get this thing home?” I’ve usually trusted the shipping processes so off it went to Kansas City.

Buying the pottery set in Mexico worried even me. I joined Rodney in concern for its safety. But it has graced the mantel in front of his great grandparents for many years now.

There are dozens of smaller sets. Many of these will probably stay in their summer home in the attic this year. Maybe next year they all can celebrate with us.

We will gather as a family this year and shape new patterns. While acknowledging our grief, we will praise God for the gifts of love and memories of past years. Healing will slowly have its way. We will invent fresh ways of praying, sharing what we have with others and honoring the sacred. New understandings of celebrating Christmas will emerge.

The day before Thanksgiving a phone call sends son Ben off to chase a Snowy Owl. One of the women from the Raptor Center, University of Minnesota, calls. “A snowy owl is on the ground near I-35 and street such and such. Will you see if you can get it and bring it to the center.” The bird definitely shouldn’t be in the middle of city traffic plus the fear is that he is very hungry. So off we go. I follow along for the sport. Ben goes to do a job of rescue. After we park in a lot near that corner we quickly spot two crows having a fit about something. The something is the Snowy Owl on the ground.
Ben puts on his heavy leather gloves for capturing a raptor. I follow, taking pictures. Ben sneaks up on him time and again.
With each sneak, the owl flies just a short distance away. We try to steer him away from the heavy holiday traffic. Ben manages to touch him once, but he keeps landing on the fence or signs too high up to catch him.
Finally, all we can do is pray that he doesn’t get hit by a car or truck. We don’t know what happened to him after we gave up. A couple of hours and 167 photographs later, we give up and leave.