Category: My Story

The Haircut and Other Memories

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Recently I re-published an essay about my mother that I had written some two years before.  I had as hard time getting started with that essay because of my relationship with her was difficult on occasion, but then resistance faded away and there was my essay, my tribute to my mother.

On the other hand, my relationship with Dad was different.  Tucked away are many  memories of the two of us.  The time he built a sand box in the backyard and those times he would sit there with me playing cars, and roads, etc.  We would walk to the nearby hallow, and follow the trail down to the stream below. I was aware that people looked up to him and I know I was proud to be with him. Continue reading

A Grief Experienced

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Many years ago, as a college dean, I sought to comfort an older student who had witnessed the accidental death of her 7 year-old son.  As I stood in line at the funeral home, I wondered what could I possibly say to this grieving mother?  In front of me was the Campus Pastor who did and said all the right things. The hug, the quite murmurs of sympathy, and then, to my surprise, he began to speak of the young boy and what a blessing he had been in her life.  He didn’t avoid the subject. The elephant was in the room but it didn’t matter!  Her son was honored by the remembering conversation.  The brief conversation did not ally her grief, but it mattered to her. Continue reading

Simple Generosity!

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Soon a new year will begin, full of hope and opportunities. As my wife and I put a difficult year behind us, our thoughts turn with gratitude to what it really means to be generous, for the giver and receiver.

I believe it takes a certain amount of grace to be the recipient of the generosity of others. Having been on the receiving end of so much generosity this year, we know that the tiniest gesture is so very large and helpful. Continue reading

Talking Prayers with My Dog

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We all go through rough times in our lives, times when it is hard to imagine how to handle a problem, or work through grief, or make an extremely difficult and painful decision. As a much younger man my strategy, often, was to deny or ignore, but, most of the time, I would simply isolate myself by taking a walk in the woods or around the lake that was several miles from my home.

I was accompanied on those walks by my dog, Mandy. Just a mixed breed, part Lab, part mongrel and 100% loyal.  She was a wonderful companion and a very good listener. She would often run ahead, maybe chase a rabbit, and return and walk along with me. During those times, I would tell Mandy why we were on this walk and I would explain my problem or why I was hurting. Often these conversations with my dog came out very much like prayers. Continue reading

Storytelling

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Are you a storyteller?

A good friend of mine has been a storyteller all his life, and he has used that talent to communicate humor and interesting ideas, all with a moral.  He has for many years, journeyed, on a weekly basis, 40 miles to the children’s cancer ward of the nearby hospital where he would share his stories and amaze the children with his magic act.  He has shared his talent at our church as a lay minister and has given the children’s message with his stories.  His is a talent we all seem to admire. Continue reading

My Mother

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My last recollection of Mother was when the three of us were visiting my sisters in Colorado.  Dad and I had gone for a long walk and he told me that Mother was worried about cancer.  She had some tests before they left for Colorado and was awaiting the results. There had been a lot of cancer in her family background and this worried her.

While I was concerned about my mother’s health, there had always been a bit of a gulf between us.  It was always “Mother” and never “Mom”, although for my older sisters, it was always “Mom”.  I was the “baby” of the family and I suppose I was spoiled, especially in the eyes of my sisters.  I don’t recall ever feeling that I was given special treatment but I know I was teased about it, which was upsetting. Continue reading

A Perfect Gift

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We are well into the holiday season and Christmas is just a few weeks away.  I have been giving that a lot of thought, recalling those Christmas morning as a child and all the wonder and excitement.  Then I flash to mornings with my own children and relive those memories.

Another thought occurs to me:  Those mornings as a child, what did I learn?   What did I take away from the experience?  I have the same question about my own children’s experience.  What was their impression of those times?  What did they learn?  What did they take away that is now a part of their lives and the lives of our grandchildren? Continue reading

Taking Inventory

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I never got around to making a Bucket List.  I guess I was just too busy living to take the time.  What I do have are those things, events, accomplishments, etc. that I actually did that might have appeared on my Bucket List, had I taken the time earlier to do that.  What I am left with is a kind of Blessings List, markers that we were there, we left our footprints, and we are left with great memories. Continue reading

A Most Appropriate Memorial

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For years, on Memorial Day weekend, my wife and I have visited the cemetery where my parents are buried.  It has become a tradition that helps us focus on memories and the role that mother and dad played in my life.  As we stood at the graveside, I recalled a short story, a work of fiction that our daughter had written about her grandmother, whom she never met, since my daughter was born years after my mother died. Continue reading

Kites, Coke and Isaly’s Ice Cream

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Just to set the stage for this essay:  In my early childhood I lived in Steubenville, Ohio, a small city on the banks of the Ohio River,  just across  from the steel mills of Wheeling, West Virginia.  My father was pastor of a Congregational Church and we lived in the parsonage.  Both the church and our house were situated on high hills well above the river and I recall with clarity pieces of my experience there with my two sisters and my parents.

The routines of our family were set by the pastoral work of dad and Sundays were very special.  After worship the family would gather at the table for a delicious meal that mother had prepared.  Dad would always turn on the radio to the Longines-Wittnauer Watch Hour and we would listen to classical music as we ate.  I believe I can trace my love of classical music to that Sunday dinner routine. Continue reading

Ah, Childhood!

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My early childhood was spent in Steubenville, Ohio, a small city on the banks of the Ohio River,  just across  from the steel mills of Wheeling, West Virginia.  My father was pastor of a Congregational Church and we lived in the parsonage.  Both the church and our house were situated on high hills well above the river and I recall with clarity pieces of my life there with my two sisters and my parents. Continue reading