Category Archives: Matters of Faith

Transitory

2
Posted by on in Assistance, Family, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 24, 2024- As I spoke with friends at a coffee klatsch, this morning, and at the Soup Kitchen, this evening, it occurred to me that little about the next six weeks is even remotely cut and dried. Routine stuff, like tomorrow’s bloodwork at the VA, could reveal things that are life-altering, or they could give me a clean bill of health, in two weeks. Wednesday’s flight to Boston is most likely to be uneventful, even given the early Phoenix-St. Louis leg and the long layover at Lambert. Traffic from Logan Airport to Bedford should not be all that bad, given the after rush hour driving time.

From there, everything about the time with, or about, my mother is a cypher, up to God alone. The right thing, by everyone, will happen. It may well, however, have a domino effect. Doing right by her comes first, though, before jumping back on a plane, July 1; before being at Bellemont from the 7th to the 10th; conceivably, even before having my annual physical exam on the 11th or going up towards Carson City and the Northwest, a day later. Those affected by any change in plans need to understand that, and not be bothered by it.

This is all about a woman who gave of herself, unfailingly, for the twenty-nine years of her youngest son’s life; for the duration of recovery from the tragedy that nearly killed another of her children; for the effort it took to get her eldest, me, to find the right spiritual path and moral compass point-and turn away from a destructive road.

She will have all she needs, of my time and energy, for the duration of her transition. It’s just that simple, and just that complex.

Anticipatory Memories III

0
Posted by on in Assistance, Family, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 22, 2024- I was sitting on my bed, in a room for married students, at Northern Arizona University, Flagstaff. It was a Sunday morning, in 1986, and the two of us were planning our respective study days. We were both Graduate Students, I seeking my initial Master’s Degree and Penny, her second.

The analog phone rang and Penny answered. Mom was on the line and asked to speak to me. “Are you sitting down, Honey? Dad died this morning.” Just like that, my world joined hers, in collapse and disarray. I was, however, 35 years old and had to make some quick decisions with my wife of four years. After telling Mom that I would be in Saugus as quickly as possible, I made flight arrangements and packed. Penny would be unable to join me on the flight, as she had a major language exam, the following weekend. We went shopping for all that she would need while on her own, without a car. I then set out for Phoenix, and by midnight, EDT, I was across the country, in my childhood home, embracing my dear mother, then sleeping in my old bed.

The next morning, she told me that she had just been covered by a cold touch. She thought it was Dad. Having been visited by my maternal grandmother, shortly after her death, in 1960, I made sense of that. (I would later, as Penny was transitioning in 2011-, feel a full ectoplasmic presence in our bedroom, though she was in a hospice room, 20 miles to the northwest.) The departing reach out to their loved ones. (This afternoon, I heard two distinct whispers, while I was helping someone put a long folding table into a truck. The co-worker wasn’t whispering, and no one else was around. I have heard nothing further about Mom’s condition, but I am sure she is trying to communicate with me.)

Mom has always been direct with people; no mystery has ever existed, as to where one stands with Lila Mae. I could never even so much as fib to her, without her knowing exactly where the truth was being told and what part of my story was pure Blarney, or as she put it: “Bushwah”. At some very primitive level, that remains in her psyche, even in these last days. I would probably still be bopped upside the head, if I entertained an untoward thought.

When she thought we were being absurd, out came the Irish oath: “Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” She would later say that she was merely praying,but there was no mistaking the message. Each of us was always expected to do better-and excuses were given no quarter, in my mother’s court. At the same time, when one of us did well, or had a hopeful development, there was no more exuberant cheerleader.

Anticipatory Memories-II

7
Posted by on in Assistance, children, Family, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 21, 2024- All of my arrangements are now in place, for what may well be my last visit with Mom, on this Earth. I will fly to Boston, stay at a motel in Bedford, driving from the airport to the motel and to wherever I need to be, the following four days- Lynnfield, Saugus, and any number of surrounding towns where friends and family may want to gather. I will either fly back to Phoenix, on July 1, or adjust my plans as Mom needs me to.

Her macaroni and cheese, baked haddock, meatloaf, lasagna, velvet crumb cake, tomato soup cake, toll house cookies, cinnamon rolls-all are embedded in my culinary treasure chest. Even her salmon casserole, an acquired taste, would not any longer pass from my plate into the compost. Mom made as much from scratch as her schedule, increasingly complex over the years, allowed, as one became two, then three-four-and five.

Sis and I walked our siblings, leading to good-natured ribbing from neighbourhood boys, who swore they wouldn’t be caught dead pushing a baby in a carriage. Every last one of them married strong women, and sired at least two kids apiece. I have to wonder.

Mom never coddled us boys, when we were knocked around by guys stronger than us. She and Dad got me a set of barbells, and like the bicycle that came before, I “tried” them for about six days and lost interest. My next brother inherited what interested him, and they became less than a total loss. She listened to my tales of woe, but her mantra, on a good many occasions, was “poor baby”. When she did see that one of us was being unjustly treated, though, she was like her favourite hockey player, Bobby “Katie Bar the Door” Orr.

My seventh grade home room teacher, a large and very loud man, thought it funny to lampoon my family name, until 128 pounds of fury was standing in front of him and letting it be known that his job could very well be at risk. The better angels of Mr. Anzalone were ever present, from that day forward.

She was also no holds barred, when it came to defending her youngest child. B could scarcely catch a break, in his short life, but he did get lucky when it came to parentage. She did the right thing by him, every step of the way.

She has done the right thing, by all of us, every step of the way.

Anticipatory Memories

2
Posted by on in Family, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual

June 20, 2024- Mother always said that the time to honour someone is while they are still alive. So I am sharing some stories of her life, over the next several days.

When I was around 4, Mom got into an argument with someone, who got a bit physical with her. She shoved back and got the better of that person. He never bothered her again. Mom was of medium height, but she was robust.

After my father passed, Mom took up golf. She would go to the links, usually Nine Holes, with a good friend, or sometimes with one or more of my siblings. Even after she was no longer able to do the course, she enjoyed watching golf on tv.

Once, during the summer, when we were about to go to one of my favourite theme parks, called Pleasure Island, a neighbour woman came over and told her that another neighbour had died. She told the woman that she would go to the funeral. Having no concept of time, I thought, for a few moments that the trip to the park was going to be canceled. I knew better than to grouse and complain, but my face fell, just a bit. Mom explained that a funeral was seldom, if ever, the same day that a person dies. We went to Pleasure Island and had a great time.

When I was eight, I read the package of one of my Christmas gifts, and saw “Made in West Germany”, on the label. Sister started to wince a little-so we asked Mom, “Why doesn’t this say ‘Made in North Pole’?” She leveled with us about Santa Claus, and went on to say that the important thing is that there is a God. That was small comfort to me at the time, but I kept the Santa Claus business under my hat and we never told our younger brothers-just let them find out for themselves.

Anticipatory grief is unpredictable, and in this case, I handle it best by remembering stories like these. I hope to share a few more, while she is still with us.

Gratitude, ’24

4
Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Family, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 16, 2024-It was a fine pancake, sausage and scrambled eggs breakfast, this morning. Thank you, American legion Post 6. My gratitude list, though, is both more basic and more complex than a simple meal.

My most essential and enduring gratitude is for my parents-the father I honoured today, and have tried, with varying degrees of success, to live up to; the mother who clings to life, knowing at some level that she is still very much needed. My three siblings, each a testament to their legacy, embody the best of what Mom and Dad have tried to instill in us. Son is a reflection of the best of his late mother, and of myself.

Penny’s spirit, along with my Dad’s-and of her parents, still are my blessed guides, steering me towards the Light, even when fatigue and self-doubt have taken over. I am ever grateful that she led me to the Baha’i Faith, the Teachings of which will continue to sustain me-for all eternity.

I am grateful for all the people I have met, both in the Prescott area, across the continent of North America and across the globe. The lessons learned in the course of both work and travel have helped, at long last, to make me feel the inner strength that was probably inside me all along, and to become a person of value to community and humanity as a whole. All this has brought me to a place of sublime love, which I also suspect has been welling inside me all along. It has made me realize how important friends are; how much I need to show grace, even to those who I might think have turned away; it has made me value a new special person in my life and not want to shy away from , or bury, my feelings towards her.

So, I am grateful for Prescott, for the wider Arizona, the Southwest, the United States as a whole, for North America. I am grateful for Europe and east Asia-particularly for Brittany and Normandy, for Alsace, and Luxembourg, for the Belgian Flanders, for a swath of central Germany, for South Korea and for the Philippines. I am grateful for all I have not seen of this world, and for the friends there, who faithfully read my posts and show their love in different ways. I am grateful for opportunities to serve- and for those who serve me.

May this sense of gratitude continue to grow, in this special year of getting away from comfort zones, and in the years yet to come.

Camp Notes, Day 7

4
Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, impediments, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 13, 2024, Bellemont- There was a hint of sprinkles, most of the day, but that did not stop the basketball and volleyball games from proceeding. The day was certainly cooler, and we did things like haul about ten trash bags to our trailer dump site (me) and dig up protruding rocks (two teen boys) that presented safety hazards for the girls who might have had to risk stubbing and breaking their toes, in the dark-going from dorm to restroom.

This last full day of camp was celebrated with Navajo tacos, a dish that consists of golden fry bread topped with ground beef (or its homemade veggie equivalent, which was the filling tonight), lettuce, tomato, shredded cheese, jalapenos, olives and sour cream. Fry bread is a staple food in many First Nations communities, stemming from the need to make use of the mealy flour given them, by the U.S. Cavalry (and its Canadian equivalent), in the latter half of the 19th Century). My Dad celebrated his Wabenaki Penobscot heritage, by occasionally making “fried dough”, a Penobscot tradition.

Finally, the campers participated in a trust walk, in which two campers were joined by a wristband, and the one in front had to lead a partner through the woods. The group then did a scavenger hunt in the dark, using flashlights, and finding items that were obscure. Sounds a bit like geocaching.

I am a bit exhausted, so will stop here. Have a good night, all.

Camp Notes, Day 6

0
Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 12, 2024, Bellemont- Heat came to call today; “only”87 F, but for any sort of outside activity, the Arizona (and, increasingly, global) sunshine merits caution and respect. Nonetheless, a group of young people worked hard, this afternoon, on renovating a sorely neglected Prayer Circle.

A separate matter, regarding the education of young adults, has arisen. Even the most loving and dedicated of educators, including, for a time in the late 1970s into the ’90s, yours truly, have bought into the myth that “tough love” is what young people need most. Corporal punishment was once a part of that, though I myself never stooped to that level. Cooler heads, in U.S., Canadian and European schools have prevailed-and gradually, educators in developing nations are seeing the folly of sanctioned bullying. Our issues are more a matter of the manner of speech directed at one’s charges. I have effectively used humour and insight education, in getting co-operation from the kids, this week. The program director is likewise pursuing gentle persuasion, in enforcing the rules. The other tutors, some educated in harsher programs themselves, are taking note, and modifying their own approach.

This generation is more proactive and more worldly, than we and our succeeding two generations were, as teens. The impulsive behaviour surfaces, every so often, but the youth are more amenable to subtle hints and succinct requests than many of us were.

Camp Notes, Day 5

2
Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 11, 2024, Bellemont- An old friend pulled in, this evening, just after sunset. Looking about the place, L remarked on the serenity that still pervades the camp, even with the many changes since she was here last.

The old French proverb, “The more things change, the more they stay the same”, applies as much here as anywhere. Buildings can be built, but eventually, plumbing starts leaking, tree roots need to be clipped away from foundations and piping, and roofs always need to be replaced-among other things. We, as a society, are ever striving to strike a balance between progressively including marginalized groups in community life and preserving the moral code of conduct that has sustained our society. It seems there should be no conflict between the two-and yet……..

The kids went on a stargazing walk, this evening, after a warm day of study and group sport. They came back with a renewed awe for the vastness of the Universe. It is events like this that give credence to the very idea of a Faith that stresses the Presence that has made us all. I remember that, when pondering the still-pending transition of the most powerful woman I have ever known and the ongoing process of this country’s standing at a crossroads.

The camp is now past its halfway mark and will have a strong impact on its participants, including me-the humble manager.

Camp Notes, Day 4

2
Posted by on in children, collaborating, impediments, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Technical stuff

June 10, 2024,Bellemont

The water systems technician gave me a short briefing on the workings of wellheads, their supporting tanks and pumps, and how bacteria can flourish in even the best- maintained systems, if flow is interrupted or stagnates.

He then took samples to test for not only bacteria, but for levels of nitrates, lead and arsenic, as well. The results won’t come back soon enough for this camp, but will result in a modernization of the system.

Relying on expertise in such matters is very important to me, at the very least for people’s safety and health, as well as for the good of the system itself. There is much we are learning about the interaction of water, minerals and microbes, so DIY can’t always be an option.

For the rest of the camp, bottled water will be the source of all beverages.

Camp Notes, Day 3

0
Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 9, 2024, Bellemont- Today was Race Amity Day, across the United States, in advance of Juneteenth, a national celebration of the end of slavery in its last American bastions. Many Baha’i-sponsored Race Amity Day events took place in cities large and small. Here at the youth camp, we are living it. Several of the campers are from Democratic Republic of Congo. Others are from Brazil and there are people of Filipino, Dineh, Mexican and Iranian descent, as well as those whose ancestors came from Europe some time ago. There is amity in spades and any conflicts that might arise are more from misunderstandings than from any animus that is based on ethnic or cultural differences.

Day 3 is at an end and I am exhausted, after a bit more physical labour today. Other team members worked just as hard and will be hopefully appreciated by the campers, when Friday rolls around. I am just glad to be of use.

The one aspect of human relations that stands out on Race Amity Day is the matter of avoiding assumptions. Only a good measure of patience can keep that from happening, as well as considering a person’s behaviour or apparent attitude, from a number of angles. So I am making myself do, not so much in regard to the teenagers, as with respect to adults. So far, that forbearance has kept a few working relationships from hitting the rocks. Things are better between me and a few of the chaperones, than they were last year. May that continue throughout the camp.