Ghosts of Xmas Past

Tonight I sat in church with a ghost. Well...maybe that's a bit of stretch. Let me back up.

Tonight was communal penance service at church. When I arrived, a small group of people had already settled in. I picked up my service program, a pencil, and my slip of paper to write down my sins, then headed to "my" pew (those of you who area active in your Faith community know what I'm talking about...the favorite spot to sit week after week. And God forbid you arrive and someone else is sitting there! It throws off the mojo!).

A few minutes before the service started an elderly gentleman came and squeezed in beside me. Mind you, there were empty pews in front and behind me. But I'd left just enough room for one person, and clearly he was it. Now I'm used to seeing the same people around me week-to-week, and I honestly don't recall seeing this man before. Even for special occasions. But that's ok. I smiled up at him as he sat down and he smiled back. All good.

He didn't have all paperwork that was need and since the service was ready to begin, I nodded to him and whispered "we can share". I noticed a pretty pronounced tremor in his hands, so I tore my paper in half and handed it to him. He smiled and said "ok" in a heavy accent. Then the service began and the organ kicked in. O Come Emmanuel. The gentleman sang the first few lines, then he appeared to get lost. His voice faded and became silent. I gave him the program so he could hold it closer, just in case he couldn't see the words well. I lowered my voice an octave so we could sing together. He didn't shirk away and joined in now and again. 

We did the same through the readings and communal prayers. I started to notice his hands as he held our shared program. In addition to the tremor, I noticed his freckles. They reminded me of my dads hands. And the fact that the Gospel was the return of the Prodigal Son led my mind away from the Homily and into my own thoughts.

I realized I'd been thinking about dad a lot recently. Usually I miss mum around the holidays, but not so much this year. Dad often visited at Christmas time, so I have lots of fond memories of concerts, dinners out, Christmas crackers and trips to Myers of Keswick for my annual treat of Cornish pasties and Xmas pudding.... I've been thinking about how old dad was getting before he passed and watching him slow down.

I've also been thinking how lonely he must have been, living alone. Although very much a 'loner' the thought of dad alone on the Holidays, probably with a tin of sardines and a custard tart to keep him company left me feeling sad. 

So when this older man ended up sharing the pew with me, I felt a real tenderness towards him. He followed along with the service pretty well, but at times we seemed to move too quickly and he struggled with the reading. I wasn't sure if it was the language or his vision. It didn't matter. I found myself slowing down on the responsorials, even if it meant the two of us were ten beats behind the rest of the congregation.

Soon it was time to write down our sins and take them forward to the priest for absolution. The line was long and the organ was fantastic, so, I wasn't in a hurry. Eventually, the gentleman got up and walked towards the back of the line. About five minutes later, I too walked back to get into line. But as I looked around, I didn't see him. I thought he'd gotten in line. Perhaps he went to another priest? No. He was gone.

I actually thought that maybe I'd imagined him. Why come to a penance service, sit through the service, then leave before the penance itself? Perhaps I'd gotten so lost in my thoughts about dad that I'd conjured up this elderly man!

When I finally got back to my pew, I looked over at the empty space next to me. And there, on the floor, were two slushy footprints. He had been there! As Fr. Murphy dimmed the church lights and lit the urn where all our sins/slips of paper sat, and as the flames reached up and danced, as though the Holy Spirit itself was leading...my heart turned from melancholy to peace.

Happy Christmas, dad (and mum). You are missed.

My muse...my Moose. Wherefore art thou?

Some of you (ok...a lot of you) know that last year, while still at BBBSA, I had an intern join me in my work. Holly Moose was a true find! Many of you have worked with interns and know how it can be hit or miss.


But not Holly! She was all about the work!  She inspired and challenged us.  Granted, there was the occasional misstep, like the time she was put in charge of one of the CEO's nationwide calls and half the country couldn't dial in for about 20 minutes.  She claimed the need for 'accommodation' because her hoofs interfered with her ability to dial "all those numbers".  We, of course, complied.

There was also the time she had to be written up for sneaking into Sue's office at night and eating her walnuts ( some excuse about dietary needs, that were certainly of no concern to Sue and I!) Again, Holly claimed that the work environment was not meeting her needs, so we gave her access to the nuts and to a few plants around the office.  We learned to value Holly's differences and the ways in which they made all of us better humans.

Regrettably, shortly after Holly joined us, she was kidnapped.  Rumor had it that employees who had been 'released' the year previously were involved.  The entire incident resulted in a slew of ransom notes and threats which only served to slow me down on my real work.   


Standards deliverables had to be delayed by an entire quarter while I struggled to negotiate with Moose-nappers and do my job.  While the 'nappers'(as Holly likes to call them) were never identified, rumor is that the Mossad was involved (or was that the Moose-ad?), possibly in some effort to eliminate non-Kosher meats.   HR provided her with the number to EPA...EAP...?... services for help with PTKS (Post-Traumatic-Kidnapping-Syndrome).  But my respect and admiration for Holly grew ten-fold.  What she endured to be able to continue working with us!

Through it all, Holly prevailed. Once returned to BBBSA, Holly jumped right back into the CEO chair, nibbling on walnuts and single-hoofidly finished all the samples, templates, tools, and coordinated the webinars around Standards. Holly turned out to be amazing!

 Then I left BBBSA. And while my colleagues were professional and polite about my decision, it was Holly who was top of mind for them. When I drove into Philly on my final day to take all my nic-nacs home, Holly was no where to be found. Not in her cubicle, not in the kitchen sniffing for garbage, not in Charles's office, playing CEO.

I arrived in Denver at the National Conference only to be confronted by Holly's union Rep (when did that happen?) Apparently Holly no longer wanted to intern with me.  Not at BBBSA.  Not at my new job.  "Never ever," was how her Rep delivered the news to me.  Some nonsense about how I created an unsafe work environment, failed to meet her needs, made her do all my work - nonsense!

Imagine my disappointment and bitterness.  Nearly 9 months of work together and this is how she felt!  But it wasn't over.  Oh, no. 

To my amazement, I learn that Holly had negotiated to stay at BBBSA and intern with her new BNAMFF (Best-not-a-Moose-Friend-Forever), Sue!  And what's more - she wanted to work on the new project - AIM360 with "those nice girls".  


Apparently, while I thought Holly was off making copies and filing, she was off cozying up to the AIM360 team!

So now Holly Moose is preparing for a new adventure.  Despite rules against moose-ization with Moose interns and staff, Sue has managed to break the rules and has started 'girl weekends' with Holly!  Last weekend it was mani-pedi's, a new skirt and clogs for Holly:  her new life is getting ready to begin.  I am left to seek solace in reflecting back on all I have learned from Holly; all the ways I have grown; all the warm memories I take with me.  The definition of Muse is "to gaze meditatively on, be astonished".  Holly Moose you have truly been my muse.

 

L'Shana Tovah

(Note - written at the start of Rosh Hashana.) One of the things I often puzzle about is what % of my sense of being "too busy" is real and what % is just my own perception of being "too busy".  It's easy to stuff ones brain full of 'work,' leaving too little time to reflect, to sing, to dream, to day dream, to hum, to be at peace with one's self.

This all came to mind this week when I got on the train Thursday morning.  Instead of being 2-3 people deep on the subway platform, there was no one around.  "I must have just missed a train," I thought to myself as I turned up my music and waited for the next train.  But the next train arrived about three minutes later and to my happiness, there were multiple seats available!

Four stops later, I switch to the "A" train and the same thing happens - an empty platform and empty seats.  Swe-e-e-e-e-eT!  I arrive at Fulton Street and start the hike upstairs, sans the massive crowds.  Now I'm beginning to wonder.  I know public schools aren't back in session, but parochial schools are, so, in theory, there should be more people on the train.  Hmmmmm.  I decide it's the last chance for families to get away before school starts on Monday, so everyone must have gone on vacation!

Four hours later, I get it.  It's the Jewish Holiday!  I'm in New York City.  Folks are at shul - not work!  Remembering, reflecting.  Standing still in the chaos of life.  I'm so "busy" in my own mind that I missed it.  There's a lesson here.