We finally did it......

Today was a very big day for us. After being without a church for several years we joined the First Methodist Church. By "we" I mean my mother, my son and myself. I have written about the 'organized religion' concerns of mine before so I won't go over that again. However I must say how pleased I am that my son has joined. I can't help but feel that some of his decision was due to his grandfather's death. He has chosen a good role model. 

P.I.T.A. or other places

I received this article on chronic pain and thought it might be of interest to someone. At my place in life most people I know either have or know someone with chronic pain.

http://www.bottomlinesecrets.com/article.html?article_id=46677

I must be doing better. I'm trying to rescue the world again.

Metal and Beethoven

patricia nelson
Yesterday I attended a Symposium at Texas Tech University on Jewelry and Metalsmithing. I was there at 9:00 a.m. and the first speaker was at 10:00. There were 4 speakers during the day. Some sparked my interest more than others. All were affiliated with other Universities. I missed the the point of first speaker. The second was sweet and colorful but I couldn't identify with her work which was more art than functional jewelry. I was beginning to be concerned about the afternoon speakers and said as much over lunch to others attending the symposium.
Well, the first speaker of the afternoon was someone who did beautiful work. She used different metals, cold connections, etching, enameling and raising to create her pieces. I found in looking at the slides I wanted to get closer or view them from another angle. I wanted to see more. That's what I like. I want to be intrigued. I looked for images of Patricia Nelson's and Lisa Gralnick's work but didn't find many images that I liked.
Last night I went to hear the Lubbock Chorale performing Bass in C Major, op. 86, Meeresstills und gluckliche Fahrt, Op122 and Fantasy for Piano, Chorus and Orchestra, Op.80. I am fortunate to have wonderful friends who keep me relatively sane by including me when they attend wonderful events like this. It was a very full day that ended on a wonderful note.

I was suppose to attend a cookout and rock swap with the Gem and Mineral Society but was just too tired. I still geek out on rocks so it's nice to be around people occasionally whose eyes don't glaze over when I talk about rocks.

Choir Practice...

I attended choir practice last night and it was relatively painless. There were about 15 people there and there was no was to lose myself in the crowd. They were rehearsing the music for the Cantata that will be done in December. At this time I am singing alto so it too awhile for me to adjust from my tenor mindset. Usually choirs need tenors. I always sang tenor with Daddy when I visited his church.
So I'm sitting there sight reading the music and thought, "I can't wait to show this to Daddy". Not the first time I have had a "Daddy" moment and I know it won't be the last.

Continued....

October 15, 2008 - Just before I went to Arkansas to help care for my father I heard that my college choir director, who is an ordained Methodist minister, would be moving to the FUMC in Brownfield. It was confirmation that it was time to go back to church. I was in contact with her during the time I was in Arkansas and she was one of the people I called when my father died. My mother, son and I have attended services for the past two weeks and are ready to join. I am still afraid. Several of the people who caused so much trouble at the other church are at FUMC. I don’t want to deal with them. My reluctance aside, I am attending choir practice tonight.
If this seems to be anti-climactic, it really isn't. Attending church has brought back the pain of the other one's death. One that I have not dealt with. Even years later I cannot discuss it without tears. I avoid driving past the building where I spent years working and worshiping. Now, I will be nest door.

I think I am ready....

When I moved to West Texas in 1995 it was to escape a bad marriage and help care for my grandmother who was dying. During the first month in Brownfield I got to know a special man and his wife. My grandmother had been a member of the FBC for 72 years. I have no idea how much money or time she gave during that time. She was a faithful member. The preacher, who had been at that church for many years, came to visit twice.
On the other hand there was a minister from the Presbyterian Church, where my mother and step-father were members. Several times a week either he or his wife came to the hospital. When he walked in he would address my grandmother and speak to her. She was the most important person in the room.
I spent ten years working in every aspect of that church. Like most churches in small towns the membership was shrinking. This church had the extra problem of having controlling,destructive spirits who wanted to get rid of the minister and close the church. It took several years to get rid of him and sell the building. A few of us tried to keep the small group together while the rest moved on to other churches.
I was told that there would be a grieving process akin to that accompanying a death. To me this was not a death but a murder. I had no way to come to grips with a senseless murder of a church. Four years later I am still dealing...or not. I didn't visit other churches or consider joining somewhere else because I didn't want to go through that again. I had not lost my faith in God but people.
To be continued.....

Thursday....

We are going to the nursing home tomorrow to sing. I'm not sure that I will be able to get through it but I guess that's okay. The people there won't think anything of it if I cry. Maybe I should go to bed and see if things look better in the morning.

It's been two weeks.....

I'm not sure what I'm feeling or even how I'm feeling. I suppose I am in what might be considered a grief induced semi-comatose state. I am awake, walking and talking but can't function on the most primitive level. I start to do something and get side tracked. I am overwhelmed by simple things. There is so much that needs to be done and yet I can't do anything.
This is the first time I have buried a parent so I don't have anything to use for comparison. So will there come a time when I can make sense of things, understand which key goes into the ignition and know why I am standing in the grocery store? How does a person get over the death of a parent? My life has changed forever.

Cliff Horn

My father was buried on Saturday, September 27, 2008 in Coleman Texas. For me, the day was a blur but I wanted to share a little bit with you. My father had a sweet tooth. Considering the size of it people who knew him were always amazed that he never had a weight problem. Daddy would eat breakfast, mid-morning snack, lunch, mid-afternoon snack, dinner, night time snack. Each meal was ended with a "quiting bite" that was usually sweet and there was always candy in the house. He loved chocolate!!!
When we were discussing the arrangements I asked my sister if we had talked about flowers. I have never liked the big "family spray" that is usually on the casket and said as much. Now if they could do something with Snickers and Baby Ruth's that would be more like him and everyone could share the candy after the service.
Well, this is it. I thought it came out very well.