Sweet Day, Labor Day

September 1 was my father's birthday (I just checked the genealogical pedigree my brother gave me), though somehow I was sure that it was today.  He died when I was 8.  I sure wonder what it would have been like to grow up with a daddy who adored me (as he did).  I wonder what he would have been like as an old man (he was 54 when he died).  I suspect I might have been an entirely different person if I had grown up with a father, and I wouldn't wish for that -- but still, there's a kind of wholeness that I'll never know, growing up in an intact family.  I had a dream about that once, where my father hugged me as an adult, and I said to myself in my dream, "This is what it feels like to be whole.  You must remember this feeling."  According to family "lore," my paternal grandfather was eccentric at best, and a paranoid, crazy old loon, to be more frank about it.  This "diagnosis," of course, was handed down in the days before people knew much about mental illness, and even less about Alzheimer's Disease.  I wonder if that's what Daddy's old age would have held for him.  In any event, my memories of my daddy are pretty much all adoring ones, and so I wish him happy birthday with a loving heart this evening.  If he were still alive, he'd be 102!

Today was simply the sweetest day I've had in a while.  When I went out for my run this morning, it was in the 60s, and before I warmed up, my shoulders in my sleeveless shirt were actually cool.  That was a blessed feeling.  I've been having success with increasing my running time by 5 minutes -- I tried to increase by a full 15 minutes and had no luck with that, so I backed off.  Now I run for 35 minutes (well, I'm not running all that time -- I call it an "old lady run" -- I walk up the biggest hills, so it's nearly half and half, running and walking).  It feels so good; even when I don't want to go, I'm so glad I did when it's finished.  I'm addicted to the endorphins, I guess.  And my dogs love it, both for the exercise and for the time we spend together. When I run, I know I'll have a good day, so I do it 3-4 days a week, at least.  So cool shoulders were the start of a sweet day.

Now when I say "sweet," I'm not talking about some sort of smarmy, sentimental kind of sweet -- perhaps our current slang word "sweet" is closer to what I mean, though that kind of "sweet" seems pretty superficial -- what you might say about a car with leather seats or a half day off school.  No, the sweet that I experienced today was so deep down satisfying and good that I can feel it right now, at 10:30 at night, and it almost brings tears to my eyes.

After my run, I sat out on my back porch with a big mug or two of water (oh, I love the slightly cooler temperatures!), and wrote my morning pages.  My magnolia that grows just off the back porch was badly damaged by our "Easter freeze," and had many dead limbs up above, but was recovering thick green growth down lower.  Eventually the dear parishioner who has worked like a demon in my yard, broke off all the dead stuff, leaving nothing but green regrowth.  Well, now, get a load of this:

The crazy thing is going to bloom!  Full magnolia bloom the first week in September!  So that gave me great joy as I wrote and gazed on my back yard.

Of course, I couldn't sit still in any disciplined way and simply write morning pages.  I got distracted.  I got out my loppers and lopped dead, freeze-damaged growth from my lace cap viburnam.  Then I watered and trimmed all my outside containers, gathering the hose from the front porch border where I used it last, back to the back where it belongs.  I trimmed some branches from my cherry, dogwood, and holly trees, and dragged all the lopped off trimmings to my brush/burn pile.  Of course I got myself all heated up and sweaty by the time I was done -- but I was so pleased with the results!  And at one point I was just sitting, gazing at the back yard, hearing an unidentified bird singing, thinking of possibilities for "rearranging the furniture" in my gardens and making them truly my own -- and my heart just filled and filled with so much joy that I thought it would burst.  I feel so grateful to have such joy in my life, and that my heart somehow knows where to find it.

Late this afternoon, I went to a parishioner's house for grilled ribs (I know, I'm refusing to eat pig (did you know they have the intelligence of a 3-year-old?  How can anyone eat something that smart?) -- but once in a while I just can't refuse gracious hospitality, and she changed the menu the day before the event, and I'd already accepted) and wonderful sides and desserts.  I brought a watermelon from my garden (I still have 3 left now).  It was sweet and delicious -- the watermelon, and the time with other people.

Finally -- I am so grateful on this Labor Day night, to have work that "satisfies and delights [me]," as one of the thanksgivings from the prayer book (page 836) says.  Don't tell my parish, but I can't believe I get paid to do what I do: reading, writing, preaching, teaching, and relating to people sometimes on a deep-down level.  Sure, there are challenging and unpleasant bumps from time to time, and the learning curve for me has been steep, and has taken years.  But I am so incredibly happy here, and can't really imagine being anywhere else.  So this Labor Day is one more occasion for me to give thanks to God for giving me more than I could ask or imagine.

Tomorrow I drive to Knoxville for a get-together with clergy colleagues.  It's an informally scheduled thing with buddies, so I'll be excited to spend a few hours there.

I hope your weekend has been as lovely as this day has been for me.

Comments

[Nancy]

You have such an ability to communicate joy! I am grateful to be reminded that life is good.

Nancy

[tongue in cheek]

Your love for your Father shows me he gave to you fully when he was with you, even for a short time.
It is a blessing to have known his love.

[Your Niece]

It was really nice to read about your dad. YOu know, Dad didn't have a lot to say about him good...in fact, the only good thing I remember him saying was how much he loved little girls. You know Dad knew that by watching him with you. I think he learned that value pretty well, remembering him with Maddie. Jim and Maddie and I talk about that, a lot, because that is one of Jim's richest memories of my dad. He knew him such a short time.

We have been thinking about Dad a lot. Probably because October is coming, who knows? You know Kairyn's birthday is 10/1, Julian's 10/10 and Kaleigh's 10/17 (My granny's birthday, as well) and so we always have birthdays on the brain this month. Anyway, I guess I think of my Dad when I start sounding like him -- I know a lot of little things and drop them in conversations and teaching moments. Mostly with Maddie, but other people, too. Anyway, I decided if I am going to have a relationship with you this will be the best way and I love you very much. I read your blog about once a week. Maddie has a great one - I think you would enjoy it a lot. Hers is www.tbirdstrain.blogspot.com She would be very happy if you checked it out and left comments. That's what she likes the most. Much love to you - keep in touch - Melissa