Month: November 2020

Thanksgiving month – November, 2020

November 30

The dawn brings us to the dusk of autumn 2020, a season whose glossary included these words: bubble, cohort, concede, curbside, curve, death, division, Grubhub, hospital, hunker down, isolation, masks, positive, restriction, thoughtlessness, unity, unprecedented, ventilator, zoom
… and gratitude.

• Racial tensions stretched to dangerously taut. We were acquainted with white-on-black disregard, discrimination and death.
• On November 15, 6,706 people in this country died of Covid. Yesterday hospitals, again in the United States, numbered 93,238. Many (most?) families canceled Thanksgiving Day gatherings. We have not met in person with our friends for many months .
• A person elected to the presidency was unwilling to accept an election loss, leaving nearly half of the electorate distrustful.

On this morning’s walk, I again
noticed trees that I’ve seen many
times, but today they seem to
join in concert, a simple melody
sung in unison: “November is
leaving, let us be resigned to this
departure, this permanent going.
And let us be ready to embrace
December.

“It is now time — a brief moment–
to file away the poetry of your autumn.

“It is now time to re-commit your
love.

“It is now time to prepare for
rest.”

The trees know how to rest. They
shed their excesses even as they take in
the community homeless. They
reduce food intake, shut the
door to the clothes closet and
welcome long nights.

They seem to think that win-
ter has no agenda but to re-
cover and renew.

So I close this extended blog that shared details of
a month-long thanksgiving.

Welcome December, even its long nights.

Thanksgiving month — November, 2020

Sunday, November 29, 2020

132. Often Barbra Streisand’s words fill my screen: “People who need people are the luckiest people in the world.”

• My family,now numbers fourteen.
• Three brothers and one brother-in-law very much survive.
• About fifteen Hess first cousins are still living.
• About the same number of Good cousins live on; I delight in each opportunity to be in contact with them.
• Sixteen of my Lancaster Mennonite High School buddies remain in contact with each other, recently through Zoom.
• November is the month when ten of us Eastern Mennonite (then) College buddies exchange letters.
• Yes indeed, both high school and college rewarded me with female friends.
• Thursdays seven of us Goshen College colleagues Zoom. That 90 minutes is a highlight of my week.
• Marriage has blessed me with beloved in-laws.
• My Indianapolis friends include a former pastor and a current pastor, several (retired) professors, physicians and nurses, teachers, artists, a retired counselor, a naval officer, a techie, et al
• neighbors, wonderfully generous people
• correspondents in Toronto, Denver, Lancaster, and northern Indiana
• a wonderful “Soup Group” of eight people who met in 1965 have experienced much of life together
• and so many more.
  
  

If I prayed for each of them individually every night
I wouldn’t get any sleep, so I just bless the entire multitude.

Thanksgiving month – November, 2020

Saturday, November 28

128. An early morning moment in the meadow.

129. Granddaughter Lucy and a photo she took.

130. Oak leaf hydrangeas … late autumn color

131. Alden, a sophomore at Purdue Diagnostic Institute, helps me use the computer and cell phone.

Thanksgiving month — November, 2020

Friday, November 27, 2020 — I like Black Friday not because I like to shop, but because I think that black is a strong color. This morning I set out to show you what I mean

Thanksgiving month — November, 2020

Thursday, November 26

123.     A phone call yesterday from brother Hal.

124.    Texts or phone with each of our children today.

125.    Our Thanksgiving dinner sent from Lali in Crawfordsville. 

126. A crazy wonderful Zoom with buddies one of whom referred me to Pete Seeger for a Thanksgiving thought.

If I should die before I wake,
All my bone and sinew take
Put me in the compost pile
To decompose me for a while.

Worms, water, sun will have their way,
Returning me to common clay
All that I am will feed the trees
And little fishes in the seas.

When radishes and corn you munch,
You may be having me for lunch
And then excrete me with a grin,
Chortling, “There goes Lee again.”

‘Twill be my happiest destiny
To die and live eternally.

Thanksgiving month – November, 2020

Tuesday, November 24

116.      What can I say? The day has fallen apart.

• — the computer broke down
• — the photos were sent in the wrong form; they need  them resent in correct form tomorrow; but the computer is down
• — it’s my day to make lunch
• — the tax refund hasn’t yet arrived
• — they want to publish the manuscript; I don’t want to publish it; it was written for my family
• — it’s rain for Thanksgiving Week 

OK, I am grateful for my journal into which I can write my day.

Wednesday, November 25

117.    I am grateful that yesterday we had enough money to buy a new computer.

118.   At lunch Joy liked my sandwiches and she surprised me with a pecan pie. 

119. Oh it was good for me to take a long walk in the drizzle to calm my anxieties.

120.     I am grateful that the photos could be sent to the magazine.

121.    Today things settled down for me, helped by a 90-minute wood carving lesson.

122. Oh, what sorrow: Tim shot and killed. Shalom congregation will surround the family with love. I am deeply humbled by the power of grace for such a moment.

t

Thanksgiving month — November, 2020

Monday, November 23

111.  It’s a breakfast
that prompts me to return thanks:
Joy’s oatmeal bread, Carol’s chicken’s egg, FairTrade coffee. 

112.  Ever since doing El Camino, I walk with sticks or my cane. 

113.   Today Roger walked with me
on a route that included this brick section
of  North Irvington Avenue. 

114.   Firewood for the winter. 

115.   A Thanksgiving poem 

What is the word we reach for?

What is the word
we reach for
when many small 
things only microscopes
can see
whirl and twirl
in tune with the stars
making what turns out
to be candied yams
upon a plate
set before friends
late autumn?

What is the dance
we would step to,
that spins across light years,
partners with eons,
curtsies to atoms,
bends time and space 
yet pauses by gardens,
small plots of plantings
to show us the
grace of Thanksgiving?

What is the touch
we wish for
when the harvest moon
sends a good-night smile
and the earth
comes close, 
November close,
to whisper of winter
rest and a promise
to compost our refuse
of soil and soul
in time for the spring? 

Thanksgiving month – November, 2020

Sunday, November 20

105. My New York Times this morning —
all the news that’s dry enough to read.

106. Quite amazing — frequently when I awake,
an old time gospel song that I heard as a child
and not since
is spinning on my mental Victrola.
Today’s song —“How beautiful heaven must be.”

“We read of a place that’s called heaven,
It’s made for the pure and the free;
These truths in God’s word He has given,
How beautiful heaven must be.

How beautiful heaven must be
Sweet home of the happy and free;
Fair haven of rest for the weary,
How beautiful heaven must be.”

Mrs.A.S. Bridgewater wrote the words sometime before 1920.

107. Yes, Sunday morning … Covid isolation …
cold and rainy … we need a friendly fire. 

108. She is at the dining room table,
I am parked by the fireplace.
Both of us are puzzling. 

109. After a tough-fought over-time football game
between our two favorite teams, the Colts and Packers,
Aaron Rodgers and Philip Rivers chat amiably. 

110. The day’s benediction: K.D.Lang
singing Leonard
Cohen’s Hallelijah.

Thanksgiving month – November,2020

Saturday, November 21

101. The rainy morning brings out the rich colors of the vibernum.

102. We college buddies are doing our November updates:
Roy Hartzler, Bob Hostetler, Ed Martin,
Joe Longacre, Joe Martin and expecting three more.

103. Not complaining … just saying: vacuuming is at the bottom of the list
but while doing the den,
a neighbor brings chili for our lunch and I cheer up. 

104. The night seems awfully  dark,
but in the living room
the dark backs away from light.

Thanksgiving month — November 2020
Friday, the 20th

96. Yes, David Brooks. Your suggestions for effective communication with someone who is quite different from oneself are “right on!”

 — approach with awe
 — ask elevating questions
 — ask open ended questions
 — treat attention as all or nothing
— don’t fear the pause

And four more. 

97. Enroute to see a friend, I was treated to this eyeful. 

98. A fellow walker, traversing an area that I frequent,
found this flint arrowhead today. 

99. On my walk, no arrowhead, but “that tree” and sky! 

100. The three Fraser Holly trees arrived today, in time for tomorrow’s rain.