A new sun glinting on different waters

It has been some time since I could sit down and take the time to write what is on my mind. My mind has been distracted recently and I have tried to handle business, which is always there even when the money is not. I am never without something to do. I think that is a big part of adulthood.

Anyway, Momma sent us home two weekends ago and ordered us to stay at home for a weekend. So I became reaquainted with the mattress on my bed at home. How delightful. And I got to do some work around the house.

I was faced with something which I didn't anticipate. On Saturday evening, Cindy, Kate and I began to watch five episodes of a special on BBC America, which wound up the series called Torchwood. Torchwood was an ofshoot of Dr. Who, which is a long running science fiction on BBC, which began in the early 60's and continues on television in Britian even today.

At any rate, Torchwood was a spinoff from Dr. Who which involved a team of people who battle alien life forms who attempt to take over the planet, predominately in Britain. Their headquarters is in Cardiff, Wales, which is handy since most of the characters live in Cardiff and most of the actors are Welsh.

At any rate, for some reason, the producers of Torchwood decided to end the series by having a mini series on five successive nights in which the world and the three surviving members of Torchwood battled aliens who desired to take 10% of the children of the world as hostages for some undetermined use.

When we began to watch the five episodes on Saturday night, we anticipated watching one, maybe two of them and leaving the rest to watch on some other night. As it turned out, the plot and acting was so compelling that we ended up watching all five episodes on Saturday night and Sunday morning and going to bed close to 3:00 on Sunday morning.

Needless to say, it was much later than normal when I awoke on Sunday morning with the idea of going to church. As I stumbled around the house, trying to eat breakfast and awaken the synapses in my brain, there was a strong, growin desire to stay at home and avoid church that morning.

As I sat there on the couch in front of the television, it occurred to me that perhaps the main reason I didn't want to go to church was because I didn't want to talk with my friends at church and have to rehash the loss of my father. As the thoughts whistled around my brain and the sleepiness continued in my limbs, it came closer and closer to 10:30 and the beginning of church.

I finally made the decision that I needed to go to church, so I went back into the dark bedroom and took a shower and dressed for church. I arrived at First Presbyterian and opened the large entrance doors to the narthex. Inside were two of my friends. They both greeted me warmly, but there was still some talk of condolence. I took a bulletin and walked back to the choir room. It appeared that we would not have choir that morning. Several of us entered the choir practice room and were told to go sit with our families. I wondered if I should just go home and join
Cindy in bed.

But I reentered the sanctuary and there were more members of our church who had things to speak to me about. I ended up sitting with them and talking a bit about what the past few weeks had been like. It finally ended up being a good thing to be able to feel the friendship and concern of my friends at church. I left the sanctuary after the service and returned home. The rest of the day seemed to be aiming for a bit of rest.

Then word came that my Aunt Meg was suffering from another stroke in Florida. Now I am in St. Petersburg. Tomorrow is her funeral and burial. The family is gathering. The friends are here. Here we go again. Here we are again.

I love my family. I love our friends. Emotions are hard and lie right below the surface. We try to carry on. Sometimes it is tough. Ecclesiates says everything must have a season. It seems to me that all seasons come together. Perhaps it is just our understanding of it which fluctuates.

Sometimes we see with eyes half open. Sometimes we intentionally avert our view. We laugh and whistle past the graveyard. This world is full enough with heartache and sorrow. But there is laughter and joy as well. It is all there. We can't assume that one overwhelms the other, because they do not.

It is a mixed bag. As we ponder the brevity of our lives, we must also find a time to enjoy the waves rolling up on the shore, the cry of seabirds, and the colors of the sun sinking in the western sky at the end of day. Perhaps all of it is why we find ourselves in this place right now.