Monday, another Monday...

And I'm a little surprised about how much anxiety i was holding inside about the possible results of last week's CT scan, and how good it feels to have that out of the way, and to be back again only to dealing with my usual Sunday post-preaching adreneline crash. And today -- very much outside the box: caught a taxicab over to Sacred Heart Church in South Portland where I attended a funeral mass for my friend Steve, then hitched a ride with Steve's brother back over to the reception at the Holiday Inn and then afterwards caught a ride back to my place (only a few blocks away) from one of the people that I met there. Felt very independent, and also quite connected. The service was good -- very fine eulogy and a nice address as well; the priest (Fr McAllister?) seemed to be a pretty erudite fellow who knew his Greek Testament and caught Steve's "Free Spirit" pretty well. And I enjoyed the unfamiliar "familiar" hymns: "Be Not Afraid" and "On Eagle's Wings," which I almost never hear except outside my own Unitarian Church. And yes, we are all going to miss Steve a lot. But I do feel better knowing just how much of him I still carry with me everywhere i go, and that I can rely on that whenever I choose to reach out and trust it....

Updates sad and glad.

I've been waiting three days now with barely 'bated breath to learn the results of last Tuesday's CT Scan, and today I heard: no real changes in the size of the tumors, no evidence of growth or metastasis -- in short, about as good of news as I could have hoped or expected to hear, and a nice sense of relieve for myself, the church, and all my friends and family. Yes, it would have been nice to have heard that my cancer was melting away like an open carton of Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream on a hot August afternoon in New England...but that would have been an awful lot to expect, expecially since this isn't August So we just left the Ben & Jerry's at the suppermarket, and came home to celebrate with my favorite local wood fired pizza and some salads.

The sad news is a little harder to sit with. Learned last Wednesday that my friend Steve Lesneski -- Steve the Sailor or "Cap't Steve" -- passed away Wednesday night at the Gosnell Memorial Hospice House in Scarborough, in the company of his brother Paul. Steve and Paul had both come to be friends of mine in the past 18 months, and one of my own deep regrets is that I know that my own illness prevented me from spending as much time as I would have liked to with Steve in the last few days and weeks of his life. But I also know that my friendship with them both has made a huge impression on my own life in that time, and I only hope that those feelings were reciprocated in a way that allowed Steve to draw upon the wisdom and inspiration of "Father Tim" as he needed it in his last days.


Yacht Southerly under sail...


Yacht Southerly careening in Portland Maine

The Spirit is willing...

but the flesh is weak. And that was certainly my experience at church yesterday morning. One of my colleagues was in the pulpit, preaching on the theme "The Adventurous Spirit;" my only duties were to welcome the visitors and introduce the announcements, and then later to lead the "Moment for All Ages" -- a message directed specifically to our children just before they leave for their Sunday School classes. I knew I was in trouble when I arrived at church and didn't even have the energy or the appetite to enjoy our monthly pancake breakfast -- just a class of orange juice and a cup of coffee felt like too much. Got vested into my robes without too much trouble, but I did ask my colleague to welcome the visitors, which he readily agreed to do. A few moments later my other colleague volunteered to take the children's story off my hands as well, and after thinking that over for half-a-second. Which left me with nothing left to do except sit in the parlor of the Parish House listening to the service over the loudspeaker, and trying to stay awake in my wheelchair.

And now, of course, I'm second-guessing myself. I guess this is just what I'm fated to do. I want my people to see me as strong and committed and devoted to this church, despite my illness and the subsequent disability it has brought about, but at the same time I DONT want to have them witness the opposite when I just can"t get it done, no matter how hard I may try. I feel a lot better today (after having slept, intermittently, from noon until about 6 am this morning) so naturally I'm felling like if I had just gutted it out and soldiered on, I could have gotten it all done. But that's not what my guts were telling me yesterday. My guts were telling me to back off and take it easy, knowing that next week there will be another Sunday.

Next Sunday I AM scheduled to preach, so it's really important that I feel in tip-top shape. And I keep telling myself as well that this could simply have been "that thing that's been going around" -- headache and runny nose, fatigue, body aches, queasiness and loss of appetite. It doesn't HAVE to be the chemotherapy. But it probably is....

NEW YEARS DAY

And what a lovely New Year's Day it's been. Basically, I have done nothing today but sleep late, talk on the telephone, read, think, and watch the Rose Bowl on TV. Did spend a couple of hours this afternoon with our church webmistress going over our site and thinking of ways that we might make it more useful both to our current members and also to potential visitors who want to check us out -- more and more newcomers are finding churches on-line these days, so it has really become essential to have a top-flight site. And there are lots of things about our site I like quite a bit, but I also know that we can always be better. But a lot of that has to do with content as much as organization, a lot of which falls right back on my shoulders again.

This is also the day that all of my health insurance supposedly shifts over seamlessly from Harvard/Pilgrim to Blue Cross/Blue Shield. Since I was very, VERY satisfied with the service I was receiving from the former, I was really reluctant to change over in the first place, especially since the combination of lower premiums but higher co-pays probably won't end up saving me any money in the long run anyway. But apparently it's a lot better for the rest of the group, and the cost of staying on with H/P as an individual subscriber really was prohibitively expensive. So I just keep telling myself not to sweat the small stuff, and to keep calm and take it easy while everything sorts itself out. The main thing is that I just need to get my new insurance cards and ID numbers right away, so that my treatment can continue uninterrupted. For example, I'm supposed to have a CT scan sometime next week, but I'm reluctant to schedule it until I know it's been approved by my new insurance. Same thing for my prescriptions, new referrals from my PCP to my Oncologist, and (of course) double-checking on my mental health benefits. Think of how much money insurance companies could save there if this all really worked as smoothly as it should!

Watching the Rose Bowl was another real treat. I hardly watch TV at all any more; don't have one in my room, and unlike TV-less times in my past I'm rarely even able to get to a bar any more if there's a game I really want to see. Missed both Oregon and Oregon State's bowl appearances...but knowing that the Pac-10 went 5-0 in bowl appearances this year really makes me proud to have gone to college on the West Coast, as a Dawg as well as a Duck and a Beaver. So it was sweet to be able to see the Huskies new Head Coach Steve Sarkisian in action, and to daydream about how much of that magic he might be able to bring to Husky stadium next year. A lot, I hope. The Dawgs could really use it....

BOXING DAY

And today (Boxing Day) is the day that the privileged members of the Victorian Bourgeoisie traditionally shared year-end gifts of appreciation with their servants. It's a tradition that survives today, at least here in the US, principally in the form of tips to the paperboy and the doorman, or maybe one's hairdresser, or gardener, or anyone else who provides a personal service. According to Wikipedia, its origins are ultimately found in the Roman tradition of the Saturnalia, a week-long year-end revel where slaves and masters reversed their roles, and large amounts of alcohol were consumed by all.

In the 19th century Frederick Douglass wrote bitterly about how the "holiday" between Christmas and the New Year was used by white slaveholders to degrade African American slaves - first by encouraging widespread drunkenness, and then pointing to the same as "evidence" that slaves were simply not capable of managing what little freedom they were allowed. The modern day African American holiday of Kwanzaa emphasizes the exact opposite values, and especially a reaffirmation of "the communitarian vision and values of African culture and...its restoration among African peoples in the Diaspora, beginning with Africans in America and expanding to include the world African community."

Personally, I still feel a great deal of ambivalence about what to think or do about these awkward seven days that mark the transition from one calendar year to the next, and separate the first half of the church Program Year from the last. I'm glad for the rest, but panicked by expectations, and worried about things I can't control, and will never be able to control But I'm also intrigued by the idea of a seven day holiday that begins with a Celebration of Unity, and ends with a Day of Assessment, and in between lifts up the communitarian values of cooperative effort, shared enterprise, creativity, and self-determination. But mostly I think I just like the colored candles.

from the Official Kwanzaa Website, www.officialkwanzaawebsite.org

CHRISTMAS DAY

And now that the Christmas Eve service is over, I'm not scheduled to preach again until January 11th. Next Sunday Kitsy and the Worship Committee have something special planned for the end of the year, and the Sunday after that (January 4th) Will will be leading our traditional "Burning Ritual," an alternative service of Joys and Concerns where the participants secretly write their regrets from the previous year on a scrap of paper, and then burn them in a large metal bowl we have set up at the front of the Meetinghouse. So when I'm finally back in the pulpit myself on January 11th, I will hopefully be feeling rested and energetic again, and ready to resume the every-other-Sunday preaching schedule we've mapped out until Easter.

Meanwhile, I still haven't gotten around to writing my annual Holiday Letter either, which seems a little redundant given the amount of blogging I've done this year. Still, it is a tradition I would hate to interrupt, and perhaps just that small and gentle contact...an e-mail with a link to the text of the actual letter itself -- will be sufficient. I sure have enjoyed the cards, letters and e-mails I've received from so many of you. One of my favorites actually contained the suggestion that in light of the recent events of December 14th in Bagdad, we need a new Constitutional Amendment protecting the right to Bare Feet.





Oops! Forgot that I was blogging on One Day Isle. This sort of post is much more worthy of The Eclectic Cleric. Maybe I'll see you over there.

CHRISTMAS EVE

And this is what I'm using for my new computer "wallpaper." When I see photographs like this, it's easy to reflect back on what a wonderful Dog Parker really was, and the qualities that made her that way. But mostly it was just the time we spend together. Not every waking moment, certainly; in fact, ,if anything, the opposite -- it was the time this little dog spent sleeping in my bed that really imprinted us one to the other. That and the weekend road trips to those small congregations where I was consulting, and there were always so many new and interestng people to meet, and she always had to be on her best behavior.

In any event, an excellent Christmas Eve candlelight service tonight, if I do say so myself. A comfortably-full sanctuary, a half-hour of easy caroling, and then the traditional service of carols and readings, followed by my Annual Christmas Eve Homily -- a little pre-celebration socialism to truly usher in the Spirit of the Season. And I was also able to give our Sexton the Boxing Day gift we had secretly collected for him the previous Sunday. Delighted to say that we surprised him twice: first when he felt the thick envelope, but even more so after he had opened it. So that was a great thing too, all thanks to a simple suggestion at the Staff Meeting from our Church Administrator that we really ought to try to do something a little special for our Sexton this year. So I made the appeal and the people responded...and another George Bailey moment gets "paid forward" by this church.



Here are a few more Parker pictures, just because I had them available. It astonishes me to notice how much she had aged between the time that first photography was taken when she was still a puppy, and the photo taken at the Seaside Rehab, only a few months before I finally was able to let go and say goodbye....



And yet I am also confident that our Spirits will be reunited again, just as depicted on this card my Aunt made -- the two of us sailing off downwind...though whether that represents the sunrise or the sunset really depends on our ultimate destination.... Guess I'll just have to trust my moral compass on that one. And maybe I will have to sail upwind just a little....