Epiphany

I caught a glimpse of how I want to die earlier this month.

At church on Epiphany, I was a lay reader for the "ugly service." That is to say, the service I usually try to avoid because the music is so campfire that I cringe. Still, I love the people of our parish. The preaching is good and the congregation is about a loving a family as you will ever find. I want to be a lay reader more than I dislike the ugly service, and I understand a little more, now, why I was placed there on that January morning.

Frank and Nikki also attend that service. They have been married nearly 60 years, and are so darn cute. They are short (everyone seems short to my 5'9 1/2"), always impeccably dressed, and have attended our parish for a very long time. I was fortunate to have served on altar guild with Nikki for a period of time, where we had long conversations about children and marriage as we executed our holy housekeeping. Sadly, with age comes changes. Nikki is now starting to lose her memory, and Frank is starting to feel the effects of some as-of-yet undiagnosed illness.

On January 6, they were sitting two rows behind us. I heard Frank breathing heavily, and when I glanced behind me, he looked unusually pale. Still, Nikki was not outwardly concerned, so I really had no reason to be. During communion, Nikki served as a LEM (lay eucharistic minister) up at the altar. My family approached to receive, and on the way back, I noticed that Frank had stayed seated, and his eyes were closed. My gut grew tighter. I watched another friend, also serving, approach Frank in the pew to serve him in his place. The piano was playing "O, Little Town of Bethlehem" gently and quietly. Frank could not be woken. Several men (including one of our EMTs) lowered Frank to the floor, and the rest of us stayed on the kneelers praying hard. I remember Nikki rushing past me, gasping a desparate, "Oh, no." She sat near him for a time, then allowed herself to be comforted by friends in the back.

Frank did wake up, and even smiled. The ambulance finally arrived, and he was hospitalized for a few days, and released with no explanation for this episode. While it was happening, I did pray for him, for his soul, for Nikki, and I put myself in his place. If it were my time to die, I would rather it not be so public, but then again, what a lovely and peaceful way: among your extended church family (and our congregation really does feel like a family), hearing piano music (after 31 years playing the piano I am still desparately in love with the sound of piano music), with prayers guiding your path to heaven.

Me and Wierdness

OK, Mel, I'm taking the challenge. This is because I seem to have NO time to maintain a thought long enough to write about it, and this is a challenge I can accomplish in small bursts of time.

“THE RULES: Each player of this game starts with the “6 weird things about you.” People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave a comment that says “you are tagged” in their comments and tell them to read your blog.”

1. When I have to go to the bathroom really, really badly, my teeth hurt.

2. I cannot fall asleep in an unmade bed. I must climb between sheets that have been neatly tidied, preferably with hospital corners.

3. I never have cake on my birthday, which is in December. Only lemon meringue pie.

4. When I was pregnant with our second child, I didn't know I was pregnant until I was 4 months along and happened to go my doctor to find out why I was gaining so much weight.

5. When I was baptized as an infant, I cried so loudly that the minister forgot the rest of the service.

6. I like my (unsweetened, no lemon) iced tea to be not very cold. Room temperature is fine with me. And iced tea with an old-fashioned donut is the perfect breakfast.