Tag: connecting

Yes, Virginia … There is a Santa Claus (and other traditions)


The letter to the editor of the New York Sun in 1897 is one of my favorite Christmas “stories.”  Several years ago, my then partner Jerry saw the letter/response from the editor reprinted for a Macy’s Christmas ad, and had it framed for me in a satin red mat/black frame.  It’s one of my many traditions for Christmas — taking down a piece of artwork that’s up for the rest of the year, replacing it with this frame.  The full text is available below (and the movie can be seen on Netflix!)

Yes, Virginia…there is a Santa Claus!.

Yes Virginia Memorabilia

“Yes Virginia…” Memorabilia I’ve Collected

I’ve been through a lot of change and loss since 2010, so it has taken a couple of years until I have really got back into the Christmas spirit.  Last year, I lost my mom to alcoholism/heart attack in January, and my grandmother (her mom) died later in October, one month shy of her 101st birthday.  But, I’m happy to report that this year is probably the best year so far: decorating the house, putting up lights inside and our along with a tree, etc.

There are three special items in my collection (in addition to the Yes, Virginia stuff) that remind me of my family.

  • One is a collection of homemade Christmas cards that my mom’s parents had printed each year from ~40’s to the ~60’s, which I had specially mounted several years ago, proudly displaying them as they should be.  They remind me of my mom and grandmother.  I love the different clothing styles, and fonts/expressions that mirror the changing times…
Vintage Christmas Cards - The Schneider Family (1940's to 1960's)
Vintage Christmas Cards
The Schneider Family (1940’s to 1960’s)

 

  • One is an original decanter and glass set for Creme de Menth that my grandmother Blanche gave me.  Very “kitsch” – something that nobody else in the family wanted, so she was ecstatic when her “gay grandson” was thrilled to give it a good home.

IMG_6244

Original Decanter/Glasses (Creme de Menthe)

 

  • Several collections of crèche’s (mangers) from my mom, which the three siblings carefully divided up between ourselves and her grandchildren last year.  They remind me of mom…

Creche (Manger Scene) from the Estate of C.S. Wyman Creche (Manger Scene) from the Estate of C.S. Wyman Creche (Manger Scene) from the Estate of C.S. Wyman

Creche (Manger Scene) from the Estate of C.S. Wyman

Crèche (Manger Scene) from the Estate of C.S. Wyman

Another proud “tradition” I’m a part of are the carillons at my “community center” / church, Broadway United Methodist Church.  We had a capital project last year to put them back in service, having rung in the past decades…but the old tape technology had fallen into disuse and failed to work.  A resident of Mapleton-Fall Creek, living two blocks from the church, it seemed fitting to give to our ambiance in memory of my grandmother with some of the money she left me in her will.

Whenever I hear the chimes, I think fondly of her and her matriarchal role in our family. To know the carillons are bringing others joy warms my heart. I love this neighborhood community and the traditions and memories it brings forward.

Some comments from neighbors (via nextdoor.com)

“We live right across the street from Broadway UMC and we LOVE hearing the bells! Thank you for all of your work to bring this small joy back to the neighborhood!”

” I enjoy hearing the beautiful bells. It’s nice to have them return to Broadway.  Whenever I hear the bells ring from the Broadway tower, I will always think of you and your Grandmother. Thank for ringing our bells!”

“I love the bells. I remember the first time I heard them play a song which was two christmas’s ago. I completely stopped what I was doing and listened. Not only did the bells tell me to slow down and just listen for once, they got me in the holiday spirit which is a feeling you can’t buy. We also brag to our guests, that visit our house, that we don’t need a wall clock because the bell tower keeps us up on the time!”

“I live on Broadway and I absolutely love hearing them chime. Thank you!”

“My family and I love hearing the bells. Thank you to you and your committee for making this a lovely part of our community!”

“I no longer live in MFC, however, my family lived in the community for 50 years. I am employed at Broadway UMC and I absolutely love hearing the chimes…so glad that they have been restored!”

One final tradition we grew up with: homemade pumpkin bread.  We couldn’t open our presents on Christmas morning until we had our slices of bread, which my mom had made from the pumpkins at Halloween.  So, I carry that tradition forward and always try to have pumpkin bread in and around the season, especially on Christmas morning.

Another tradition I reconnected with is our annual Christmas Store for the neighborhood…but I’ll save another blog post for that.  I’ll also write about “Christopher The Christmas Tree,” the creator of which (George Bowers) just passed away this month.  Finally, I’ll write about “Three King’s Day,” a tradition I learned about while living in Puerto Rico.

 

In closing, for many of us, the holidays can still bring up losses and changes we’re grieving. Just when we think we’ve moved past things, something comes up to remind us of the hole in our hearts…
I came across this poem that I thought I’d share:

“A Blessing for the Empty Place”

You sit in the empty place that is left, After the death, the arrangements, the service, The cards and calls and emails,
The departure of family,
The thank you’s and acknowledgements.
Left with the emptiness,
The space that can never be filled In quite the same way.
You see a shadow, hear a sound,
Taste a food she used to love,
Start to tell him something about your day, Smell a blanket or pillowcase,
And your eyes and heart are filled with tears.
The first week, the first month, the first birthday, The first holiday, the first anniversary, These bring you to the place of remembering, The place of exquisite, lonely sorrow.
Bless you and your memories.
Bless the tender heart that beats within you. Bless the empty space that can never be filled.
The shadows, the smells, the tastes, the thoughts, Transform their pain into blessings,
Signs that though you live in that desperately empty place, She walks beside you,
He laughs in the shelter of your heart.
That empty place That can never be filled In quite the same way Is filled
With love.

‘TheUnclutteredHeartbeth@bethrichardson.com‘

What are some of your favorite traditions or Christmas memories?
Please use comments to share with us…

The Power Of A Question: Who Are The Healers In Your Community?


Some of my other entries have touched on the “Power of a Question.”  It can often completely change our thinking or the outcome of a situation because it invites new perspectives.

I have a friend who does this well.  Even when I imagine he has advice to offer, or experience to share – he will hold back, “play dumb” and probe with a series of questions. The beauty in this is it invites dialogue.

Another friend used to say, “I can choose to be right, or I can choose to be happy.  I choose to be happy.”  I’ve taken that a bit further with “I can choose to be right, or I can choose to connect.  I choose to connect.”  Again, by asking a question instead of giving advice, we’re more likely to build rapport and create dialogue, which is far more important to me now than being right.

One of the other places I’ve come across the Power of a Question is from my daily devotional, by Mark Nepo.  The readings introduced me to a series of questions Native America medicine men ask of the sick: When was the last time you sang? When was the last time you danced? When was the last time you told your story? These questions would be put to the sick and dying by the tribe’s medicine man. In my recovery journey, I’m learning it’s just as important to ask these questions of the living. I also used these three questions to celebrate my mom’s life journey last year, reflecting on her song, her dance, her story…

“The right question at the right time changes the way we look at things around us.”

This past Sunday, I heard a sermon by my pastor and friend Mike Mather that embodied this “Power of a question.”  It was truly inspired and moved me. Mike talked about a visit some folks took to meet with Dr. John Rich, recipient of a MacArthur Foundation Fellowship. As a primary care doctor at Boston Medical Center, Rich created the Young Men’s Health Clinic and initiated the Boston HealthCREW, a program to train inner city young men to become peer health educators who focus on the health of men and boys in their communities.  His recently published book about urban violence Wrong Place, Wrong Time: Trauma and Violence in the Lives of Young Black Men has drawn critical acclaim.

Mike shared in the sermon how two simple questions from Dr. John Rich profoundly affected the group, and fundamentally changed how Mike now sees the world. It’s also permeates the structure, mindset and “ministry” of our church. Dr. Rich asked the group:

“Who are the healers in your community?

He then asked them,

“How are you supporting those healers?”

At Broadway, we ask not about what someone’s needs are, but about someone’s gifts. Asking people what they are gifted at rather than what they lack changes the way we see the world. And while we are far from perfect at it, it really is a mindset that transcends a single “leader” and has become a way of life for many or most of us.

Others from outside of Broadway have confirmed this, which helps remind me why we do things the way we do.  It really does make a difference in the long run.  It can be a little messier, or shall I say less tidy and well defined.  It’s harder perhaps to measure or articulate through “program objectives” because the work or ministry doesn’t take place from the center, but is instead supported from the center.  The church’s role becomes one of making visible that which is already taking place – through the gifts, passions and efforts of our members, out in their neighborhoods, workplaces and communities.

The following clips capture some of what I’m talking about, so I will close with them.  You can also find the rest of Mike’s sermon podcast here: http://www.broadwayumc.info/audio/10-19-14_Sermon.mp3

AIDS or Alzheimer’s…remembrance with transparency


Celebrating a life as it should be…

This week, we lost a soul due to complications due to AIDS, as he was living with the HIV virus. He was in my men’s group where I receive care coordination for my own life care as someone living with the HIV virus. I only knew him from the group, but his passing touched me for many reasons. I’d like to share a little of his story to keep his memory alive.

We will call him Scott. The fact that I have to pick a false name “to protect his family” goes to show that even today, with all the progress we’ve made in the treatment of this nasty virus, there is still the need to protect people’s dignity because of the social stigma that is still out there in our society. His family chose to have contributions go to the Alzheimer’s Association, as opposed to where he received life care for this real disease. Sad, for me at least, because I really don’t think the Alzheimer’s Association did anything for Scott. Each week, he found support and camaraderie from a small circle of men who met in the basement of a non-profit organization, dedicated to those infected with HIV/AIDS.

So if you’re reading this and you’re willing, please make a contribution to your local HIV/AIDS organization in Scott’s memory.

And let me be clear – I don’t fault his family for making this choice. If we lived in a society where caring for someone with Alzheimer’s was equally respected as caring for someone with the HIV virus and/or complications from AIDS, then they could be transparent. But, we don’t…yet. So, they felt this was necessary.  I respect their decision.  I hate they had to make it…but I understand.

I’ll remember Scott for his love of music. For his love of food. For his sense of humor.

I’ll remember Scott because he was confined to a wheelchair, living in an assisted living home where we was often treated with disgust. Food would be taken from his fridge. Human excrement would be left in his bed sheets or on the floor, because the staff wasn’t willing to clean up after him. Granted, Scott was a cantankerous man who was probably difficult to live with. He sometimes made us uncomfortable in group – but he was human, alive and living with this painful, ugly disease. He felt trapped in the nursing home – a victim, perhaps by choice, but perhaps not. At least he had our support group, where he could vent and process and find support. How many people are out there who don’t have that?

I’m reminded of a song by Barbara McAfee, entitled “When I Die.” It’s given me much comfort in my living, and given me hope that I can die with grace and dignity, surrounded by friends and family.  The opening lines are:

“When I die, I know there’ll be singing
By my friends all gathered around.
As their sweet voices fade behind me,
I will join in the one great sound.
And I’ll stand on a sunset hillside
Just like I did in that dream
Join the multitude there that is singing
The song inside everything.
…
When I die I’ll fall into a hammock,
Woven of each song I’ve ever sung.
I have sent them a forward to catch me
On the day my life is done.”

When I die, I want this song played at my memorial service.

And, if I happen to die of complications due to AIDS, I want that listed in my obituary.  And I want donations made to the Damien Center, or IAIC, or Broadway UMC…or similar organizations, should I live somewhere other than Indianapolis.

I want people to know one can die with dignity from this disease, or from addiction, or from natural causes…or from a motorcycle accident.  I don’t know how I’ll go, but all of those are real possibilities, as I live life “in the grey” between the “!” and the “?”

The more we talk about it and tell our stories, the less shame and stigma there will be…

So Scott, I celebrate your life – your struggle – your smile.  May you find rest on a hammock that was prepared just for you…