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Dear Ones:
Every once in a while, I am reminded just how important it is to make the most of my time here on earth. I remember that it is incumbent upon me to 'do something that matters', while I can. It needn't be something big or small...just something that lets my Lord and Maker know that I don't take my life for granted and that I don't think this incredible 'life journey' is all just a free ride. It sure isn't.
I'm in a 48-hour cycle of 'doing'. It started yesterday when a dear friend, the husband of my deceased 'best friend' Candy, stopped by for a visit. http://sefcik.frontrunnerpro.com/runtime/17941/runtime.php?SiteId=17941&NavigatorId=113351&viewOpt=dpaneOnly&ItemId=335342&op=tributeMemorialCandles The plan was to catch up and trade, once again, our shared experiences with Candy. We continually console each other in our 'still-fresh' grief over the loss of a special woman all the time, but yesterday it was in person. Byran, Candy and I go way back to our undergraduate days at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute (RPI), which in the late 60's was a bastion of the intellectuo-military 'torture' for eager academic 'green horns' willing to subject themselves to it. Pretty much, all of us were destined to serve in one capacity or another in what we called 'the military-industrial complex'. Such were the crazy 'Vietnam years'. http://sefcik.frontrunnerpro.com/runtime/17941/runtime.php?SiteId=17941&NavigatorId=113351&op=tributeCondolenceView&viewOpt=dpaneOnly&ItemId=335342
On campus, Candy and I were that rare species known as 'coeds' in an all male culture. We were outnumbered around 35:1, male to female ratio, in those days. Candy, unlike myself, was considered 'datable' by the men on campus. As for myself, I was only 'the competition' to the guys... nothing more than a wretched co-ed.
If an RPI guy wanted a 'real' date, he'd better go down to the all-girl college Russell-Sage and get a 'Sagie'. Not that I didn't have a few boyfriends at RPI, but my true source of comfort came from my lesbian roomate, a few of the gay guys on campus and, of course, from 'the foreign students'. We were the 'rejects' and we understood the quandry we were in quite well.
We stuck together, striving for 'safety in numbers', a ploy which almost never worked in class. Out of class, it worked great as we shared horror stories about this professor or that and how we were harassed one way or another. For me, dinorsaur male-chauvinist professors would try to 'drum me out' of their classes, quite openly, in fact, stating their opinions fearlessly. One physics professor in particular said to me, "Well, young lady, I suppose you feel that I have singled you out for censure. I have singled you out. I happen to think that women have no place in the sciences and I'll be happy to sign that 'drop/add card' for you."
In this case, I was fortunate, for there were two major Professors teaching this class. Although it took some schedule juggling, I was able to escape a bad tormentor. So as I stood there, drop/add card in hand, I had Professor Obnoxious smugly sign on the line as I said to him, "You know, guys like you are a dying breed. You are a dinosaur." I was thankful that I'd been born and raised as 'my father's first son who could do anything she wanted to' with the requisite 'tough skin' for such a visionary outlook.
I don't know if that male chauvinist porker felt anything, but I sure felt good about the whole affair. I wasn't hurt, I was mobilized. In that case, I didn't feel sorry for myself, but kept my emotions well-controlled. Most of all I displayed no overt anger, for that would have only stoked the Professors anti-women fire. I tell you about men like that so you can understand the conditions under which Candy and I operated back then....us and her beloved boyfriend and eventual husband Bryan.
So yesterday, I thought I had it together. I am well practised at keeping my public emotions under check. What good is a pastoral-consoler if they don't keep steady and carry on while others cry in despair and mourn their loved ones? An old trick is to cry in the shower beforehand and then in the safety of privacy afterwards, for it is unhealthy to not acknowledge and release ones grief and I don't care who you are. Thinking that I would be okay yesterday, I greeted Bryan at the door and prepared mentally for a pleasant visit.
It turned out to be a terrific visit, actually. It was a beautiful day, we were outside, we visited 'Candy's beach' and enjoyed a wonderful dinner prepared by my daughter Jen. At the beach, I asked Bryan if he would like to say a prayer. Usually this is something very natural for me, for it's as easy as just having an open conversation with my Heavenly Father. Grasping Bryan's hand as we stood at the water's edge, looking out at the water Candy and her son Jeremy http://whereismrbarnes.blogspot.com/ had so often enjoyed together, I choked. I could not at first speak. I had to collect myself, then finally I was able to somewhat modulate my voice enough to speak. No one wants to listen to someone speaking in the 'crying-and-unable-to-speak-mode' , for it makes everyone uncomfortable. Yesterday, I could barely prevent subjecting us to just that. It surprised me.
Later on at the house, we enjoyed a wonderful dinner made by my daughter Jen. Even she realized that 'something wasn't quite right with Mama'. We wined and dined and Bryan went on his way after our visit and I proceeded to follow my best self-advice and finally had a really good cry. My family understood and didn't get too upset, for they know when I just have to let it rip. What surprised me was how badly I needed to let it all out, for I thought I'd done enough 'raw' mourning and crying for Candy already. But all it took was a single comment at the beach, "Oh I miss her so much" uttered by Candy's husband Bryan, to open up the floodgates.
Yesterday yet resonates in my soul today. I swear I keep 'squeezing out', 'tear-leftovers'. There are those who swear that one can only cry a given number of tears, but I don't believe it. I believe we each shed as many tears as we must, how we must and when we must and that's all there is to it. Even Jesus wept over his dead friend Lazarus:
"32When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died."
33When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. 34"Where have you laid him?" he asked.
"Come and see, Lord," they replied.
35Jesus wept." John 11:32-35 (NIV)
http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John+11&version=NIV
Yesterday, I prayed that our 'tears of loss be turned to tears of joy of remembrance of the good times'. What else could I do? No one is 'above' crying, breaking down and I feel God wants us to acknowledge ourselves truthfully in all situations. Who would ever trust a care-giver or consoler who never had 'their moments'? No one, is who. As written above, even Jesus wept and HE would be subsequently raising his friend Lazarus from the dead! It's tears and more tears, for all who would share the human experience. If it's good enough for our Lord, it is good enough for all of us.
All these tears remind me of something I alluded to at the beginning of this piece. They're a reminder to make 'things count'. Make your days 'count'. Make your words 'count'. Make your actions 'count'. And take stances that 'count'. As I tell my kids, "If you believe in something, fight your heart out". That's what I plan on doing today.
As the perfect follow-up to yesterday, I'm embracing an opportunity today by attending a Tea Party rally in front of Greenwich Town Hall from 5:00 pm to 7:30 pm.
http://dearoneshealingministry.blogspot.com/2010/04/up-coming-fairfield-tea-party-events.html It's time to 'do something' in this regard. Will I see you there?
As with the release of tears, one can only do so much thinking and ranting-to-oneself in the shower, over things politic right now. It's a good day to 'make it count', for we must remember to 'do good' according to our individual consciences while we still can.
And I pray that you do that, too, wherever you stand. It's important. And it will may well make all our tears count!
God Grant you all His Blessings,
Rev Barbara Sexton
"The Biblical Biochemist-Where Science Meets the Cross"
http://www.dearoneshealingministry.blogspot.com/
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