compline

Compline is a prayer for the end of the day.  This one comes from Northumbria Community :

The Sacred Three
to save
to shield
to surround
the hearth
the home
this night
and every night....

O God who is one,
O God who is true,
O God who is first....

O God of life, this night,
O darken not to me Thy light.O God of life, this night,
close not Thy gladness to my sight.

Keep Your people, Lord,
in the arms of Your embrace.
Shelter them under Your wings.

* Be their light in darkness.
Be their hope in distress.
Be their calm in anxiety.

* Be strength in their weakness.

* Be their comfort in pain.

* Be their song in the night.

In peace will I lie down, for it is You, O Lord,
You alone who makes me to rest secure.
Be it on Your own beloved arm,
O God of grace, that I in peace shall awake.

Be the peace of the Spirit
mine this night.
Be the peace of the Son
mine this night.
Be the peace of the Father
mine this night.
The peace of all peace
be mine this night
+ in the name of the Father,
and of the Son,
and of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.

and I received...

Several minutes after writing the last post I found this in a book of collected prayers*:

"I don't know who - or what - put the question, I don't know when it was put.  I don't even remember answering.  But at some moment I did answer Yes to Someone - or Something - and from that hour I was certain that existence is meaningful and that, therefore, my life in self-surrender had a goal.  From that moment I have known what it means 'not to look back,' and 'to take no thought for the morrow.'"

Dag Hammarskjold



* The Oxford Book of Prayer, George Appleton, Ed., 1985

are we there yet?

My friend Pam at radical ramblings and thoughts of a southern girl wrote a post today on surrender.  As I envisioned myself walking beside her on that particular path, giving and receiving encouragement, I suddenly burst out, "Are we there yet?!"  I mean, my God, how much more can you ask?  My job, my home, my dogs, my ability to think clearly, my relationships, my very sanity sometimes...what next?  Oh, I know, I prayed with St. Ignatius that you take everything, even my memory, understanding, and liberty, if you see fit, and I meant it, but I didn't realize those things ran so deep.  Now I'm tempted to say, "Just try to take anything more.  I dare you."  And yet I do pray it.  I'm a mess, a bitter, proud, resentful mess.  I offer up my very life, but when you take it I fight to get it back.  Teach me what all this loss is for, what it really means.  Or don't.  But please teach me to love.

genealogy with grandpa

This morning Grandpa greeted me with: "I'm rich."
"Oh yeah?" I said.  "How so?"
"I have a new niece and nephew."
"You mean great-grandkids?  You have two new great-grandchildren."  Congrats, cousin, on the twins!
"Oh yeah.  That's right.  I'm waiting on you for a niece."
"Huh?"
"I'm waiting on you for a niece."
"Well, you're going to be waiting a while."  (For more reasons than one...)
"Wait, what are you?"
"I'm your granddaughter!"
"Oh yeah.  Never mind."

indie ink

This week's Indie Ink challenge came from Grace and was a link:  http://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/post/9660178280/ambedo.  Check out the dictionary; it's fascinating!  For the challenge, I added to the final paragraph of my antagonist description.

I looked at Grandpa sitting silently across the small table from me.  “Do you want some more eggs?” I asked him.

“No.”

“More juice?”

“No. I’m fine.”

I considered him for a few moments.  Grandpa’s eyes were hidden under his large, bushy, gray eyebrows.  His wiry gray hair stuck out here and there; it was time for another haircut.  His old brown sweater consumed him.  Grandpa looked at me and smiled faintly, but I could tell this was one of his more difficult days.  Grandpa was still adjusting to the changes the past year had brought him: a physical decline which necessitated the use of a wheelchair and kept him from going out of the house as often as he liked.  Driving had been especially hard for him to give up.  I understood completely.  I treasured my independence as much as Grandpa valued his, and the thought of losing so much of it horrified me.  While Grandpa and I were thankful that he had not declined much mentally, it sometimes seemed like a cruel joke of fate.  He knew exactly how much he was missing out on, and on his bad days this knowledge seemed to mock him just as his thick head of hair did in the mirror, sitting atop that thin, wasted body.

Grandpa caught me staring and jerked into action, picking up his plate and rolling himself to the sink.  After putting his plate in the sink he went into the living room and switched on the television.  As he moved I watched the wheels of his chair spinning…spinning…in my mind’s eye the wheels continued to turn, like custom rims...flashing sunlight…abruptly reflecting, turning the light away…gathering shadows…going nowhere…circling…was this really the best situation for Grandpa?  Would he be better off in a place with more people and activities to interact with?  He fights adamantly against the idea of moving out of his home, the home he shared with Grandma for 37 years and in which she passed away.  I’m sure he wants to die here, too.  But what if he’s already dead?

Day 2: antagonist description

I looked at Grandpa sitting silently across the small table from me.  “Do you want some more eggs?” I asked him.

“No.”

“More juice?”

“No. I’m fine.”

I considered him for a few moments.  Grandpa’s eyes were hidden under his large, bushy, gray eyebrows.  His wiry gray hair stuck out here and there; it was time for another haircut.  His old brown sweater consumed him.  Grandpa looked at me and smiled faintly, but I could tell this was one of his more difficult days.  Grandpa was still adjusting to the changes the past year had brought him: a physical decline which necessitated the use of a wheelchair and kept him from going out of the house as often as he liked.  Driving had been especially hard for him to give up.  I understood completely.  I treasured my independence as much as Grandpa valued his, and the thought of losing so much of it horrified me.  While Grandpa and I were thankful that he had not declined much mentally, it sometimes seemed like a cruel joke of fate.  He knew exactly how much he was missing out on, and on his bad days this knowledge seemed to mock him just as his thick head of hair did in the mirror, sitting atop that thin, wasted body.

Grandpa caught me staring and jerked into action, picking up his plate and rolling himself to the sink.  After putting his plate in the sink he went into the living room and switched on the television.  I Love Lucy was on; his favorite.  As Grandpa lost himself in Lucy’s comic genius, I continued to watch him and wonder.  Was this really the best situation for him?  Would he be better off in a place with more people and activities to interact with?  He fights adamantly against the idea of moving out of his home, the home he shared with Grandma for 37 years and in which she passed away.  I’m sure he wants to die here, too.  But what if he was already dead?

30-day short story challenge - Day 1

Nearly 20 years ago (!) I took a creative writing class at our local university.  One of our assignments was to write a scene in a short story which included: an old man, a wheelchair, a hamster, a pair of pants (I think), and a newspaper.  I wrote, somewhat prophetically I guess, about a woman who cares for her ailing grandfather full-time.  I was able to write the scene, but I never figured out where I was going with it.  Now I'm curious to find out.

I decided to participate in the 30-day writing challenge at http://30daysofwriting.com/ .  This site provides daily assignments and an opportunity to post your work and receive feedback from others.  Each assignment draws you further into your story, and by the end of the month (hopefully) your story will be written.

Today's assignment was to write a 300-word description of our protagonist.  I wrote about 200 words before I realized the description was supposed to be physical.  When I realized my mistake it was like pulling teeth to get myself to sit down and think about what Kate looks like.  This will be an interesting month.

The similarities between me and Kate are obvious, but there are differences, too.  If you know me personally, please don't assume I feel like Kate is feeling and flood me with phone calls.  I appreciate it.  :)

Kate is a single woman in her early thirties who has moved in with her grandfather in order to provide full-time care for him, including meal preparation and assistance with personal tasks.  Kate has always been close to her grandfather and she is glad to do this, but after one year she is beginning to feel as if her life will never return to its former routine, which included teaching (something...) and owning her own home.  Kate is ready for a change of some sort, but she isn’t sure what that change could be.  There are no other options for her grandfather except a nursing home, and Kate is not willing to move her grandfather yet.  Kate knows she enjoys working with children and dogs, reading and writing, but she is bored with her life and herself and needs to remember what makes life worthwhile.  Kate is an intelligent woman with a dry, sarcastic wit.  She prefers to be alone or in a small group of people she knows well.  When she is not working with her grandfather Kate…does stuff which I hope to flesh out as the story grows.

Kate’s appearance has dulled over the past year; the browns and grays she usually wears reflect her graying brown hair and pale, freckled skin.  She feels that she herself, her personality, has paled.  She stoops slightly, and traces of the old woman she will someday be have begun to push through to the surface.  She is sloughing off her former, vibrant self and she mourns its loss but does not know how to regain it.

13 items in my welcome basket from heaven

I saw this picture on another blog today and had to steal share it with you:

What would you like in your heaven welcome basket, assuming you get there, hee hee?  My dream basket would have:

 1.  Johnny Depp

 2.  chocolate

 3.  I'll take a bottle o' water-to-wine!

 4.  Johnny Depp

 5.  more seasons of Firefly!  Yes!

 6.  camera and space suit for space exploration - (would I need a space suit?)

 7.  underwater camera and diving gear for deep-sea exploration

 8.  a miracle for learning all world languages in a day

 9.  tickets for a tour of the worlds

10.  Johnny Depp

11.  puppies!

12.  all-access pass to visits with Henri Nouwen, Abraham Lincoln, Annie Dillard (I don't think she's dead yet but I have dibs on first in line), Spock, and many others.

13.  journal and pen

This picture and idea came from W.T.F. - a hilarious site!  (W.T.F. stands for Wednesday, Thursday, Friday you potty heads.)  Thank you, W.T.F!

 

And thank you, Thursday 13 for another fun meme!