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My Onkel Buster
Today I'm thinking about my Uncle Buster. (Onkel = Uncle in Norwegian) I have so many fond memories of him that just tickle me.
One of my earliest is when he took me and my three brothers out for ice cream at a drive-in restaurant in his brand-new Thunderbird. This would have probably been in the late '50s. Of course with all four of us being small and some of us being rambunctious some of the ice cream spilled and oh how angry Onkel Buster got! That probably made him decide then and there not to have any kids!
Through the years he often spent Thanksgiving dinner with us or Christmas dinner. He didn't marry until much later in life so he was alone so often. I remember that it always "bothered" me that he didn't have any presents to open on Christmas. I noticed in my youth that he liked western novels so in my early teen years I gifted him a western novel each Christmas so he'd have something for his Christmas. Year after year the routine stayed the same.
One Christmas when I was in college he came over one Christmas morning with a record stereo and told my dad to give it to me. When my dad completed that task his remarks to me were, "Look like that book deal finally paid off!" Somehow it didn't matter to me.....I only wanted him to have something for Christmas.
My Onkel Buster was a World War II hero. He received the Silver Star for Valor and Bravery and many other medals for his service to his country. He served all 4 years under General Patton and rarely talked about his experiences there...but we all knew it.
He died nearly 30 years ago when he was crossing some railroad tracks and was hit by a train. It was a shock to all of us. When my dad went to clean out his mobile home, Dad looked in his safe. In there he found not stocks or bonds or monies but rather pictures of Onkel Buster with each of his girlfriends. There were many, many. Of course, my favorite was the one in that stack that was me with him when I was about a year old. It brings a smile to my face and to my heart, just to think of that.
Since he died I have had several dreams about him. Interesting enough he has always been behind some kind of barrier. One time he came to my yard but wouldn't come in it. He stood outside the fence and in his hands was a guitar. He said, "I have a present for you." I recognized it as an "Ovation" guitar but he clearly said it was an "obsession" guitar. I've thought a lot about that dream over the years and have wondered about its meaning. I've wondered about all of my obsessions" and about how much I love guitar music...playing and listening.
A few years ago I dreamt that Onkel Buster and my grandmother (his mother) were standing on the other side of a creek, smiling and waving at me. That left me with such a good feeling for a long time.
This morning in my waking dream I felt him beside me as I was sleeping. He touched my shoulder and said very clearly, "It's time for you to come now." It was so real that when I opened my eyes I looked around the room to see if he was here in my bedroom.
Now I'm wondering where is it that I'm supposed to "go to" and what is the time that dream is talking about.
Maybe my Onkel Buster will let me know.....soon!
Where There Is Despair, Hope
I often think about Abraham Lincoln's life. More than that I wonder about it. I think about instances that I've read where he was in total despair because of all of the troops that were losing their lives, particularly the very young men. I think about my great grandpa who shook his hand after the battle of Antietam and I can only imagine the look in Lincoln's eye as he surveyed this young lad of only 14. I think about the despair he felt for the war, for the casualties on so many levels. I think about the despair he must have surely felt when he lost all of those 14 elections. I think about the despair he was noted for in the loss of his young son and his despair when his wife lost her senses. He was a man of deep despair....and for good reason!
And in spite of this he went out to the troops and gave them hope. He shook their hands and thanked them for their service. He often told his wife, Mary Todd Lincoln, that things would turn out "all right". He was known to have given Ulysses Grant much hope in his government positions as Grant had little of it in his stockade. I think about the hope that he afforded our country....that he afforded slaves, that he offered to the multitudes. In his second inaugural address he attests, "With malice toward none".....offering hope for peace of mind and peace within each person's being.
He had much despair, and he brought much hope.
I've thought about the times when I have been visiting that place of despair. When i was first diagnosed with diabetes, it took me a while to get used to the idea and despair was my constant companion for a bit. When I was divorced, I lived so much in despair that I thought my life would always be that way. When my sons left to live with their dad, my despair knew no bounds. I used to walk into my apartment, close the door, and fall to the floor in tears and stay there hour after hour. But then, miraculously hope was restored each time. Each time, some one or something reminded me that all is well....that life goes on and it goes on gloriously.
I've thought about when I've noticed others in despair, how I have offered hope and kindness. I thought about hos much it has eased others' minds and helped them to "go on".
What a good thing to do, to offer hope. How important it is to each person's well being. What a good thing to do.
Where There Is Doubt, Faith
In thinking about doubt today, I looked at the many people sitting around me in the cafeteria and thought about what they "doubted". I thought perhaps they doubted their futures, what it might hold or not hold. I thought that perhaps they doubted the goodness of the planet, feeling the dread of wars and tragedies. I thought that perhaps they had the doubt of the Creator--if there was one, what He/She affected in their lives, and what their relationship was with him/her. Then I thought the biggest doubt would be that when people doubt themselves.
Then I thought about what I doubted. Oh boy! It occur ed to me that I have doubted myself so many many times and that I was "taken care of" by the universe....by God. I have doubted love in my life....whether I was loved and whether I could love. I thought that my life was full of many instances of doubt.
So this line of the prayer states let me sow faith. Let me encourage, convince others that they have worth, that they are worthwhile, that their future is in good hands. Let me endow myself with the peace of knowing that all is right with my world and let me be glad in it. Let me have faith and let it take the place of doubt.
That, I think, is the key. It's not that doubt and faith are a part of our lives. That is a given...but the process of changing one to the other is the element of joy in this equation. Just knowing that we CAN change.
Isn't that miraculous?
Where There Is Injury, Pardon
In thinking about this segment of St. Francis' prayer, I had some "awakenings" for sure!
First, I thought about how the many times I have felt 'injured' by another. Since I was very young I have had the perception that members of my family, my friends and the world at large had done things to hurt me. I thought about the times I felt like my mom and dad were cruel and heartless. I thought about the times I felt unworthy, ashamed, and 'less than' stemming from their words or their actions. I thought about my sons and how I have felt 'stricken' by some of their words and actions. I thought about some of my bosses and how I have felt 'preyed' upon by their words and actions. I thought about loves in my life and how I have felt devastated by some of their words and actions. I thought about all of the health concerns I have had for the last 40 years and how my body has felt invaded and taken advantage of.
I have felt so much the victim in sooooooooo many ways. And 58 years of feeling 'victimized' have certainly helped me understand the word of injury.
And then when I think of the word, pardon, it speaks of forgiveness. It speaks to me of letting things go. It speaks to me of NOT being a victim but rather of being victorious in my feelings and my actions. It speaks to me of peace, pure and holy peace.
THEN I thought about all the times I have injured another. My words and actions ;have sometimes been unkind and hurtful. In all my misgivings about my mother, it occur ed to me how many times I must have hurt her, disappointed her, frustrated her. I thought about the times I acted 'less than' and how it hurt my dad. I thought about the things I have done that have hurt my sons, both in word and in action. I thought about person after person after person that I have been unkind in my thinking, in my words, and in my actions.
This part was much harder than thinking about the wrongs of others. Sometimes in doing this thinking, I had to change the avenue of thought because it was still so hurtful to me in thinking about what I had done, and what I have left undone.
And then, pardon comes into the equation. Pardoning myself is such a big act. I once heard that forgiveness was in essence like feeling and acting as if no harm had ever been done. So this is quite a trip!
I wouldn't say that I've done this completely.....some self things are just hard to forgive, but I have done it in part. I realize that I am just who I am, no more and no less. I understand that I'm doing the best I can....at any given moment. I treasure the instances that I feel that forgiveness of myself and I am filled with peace, with joy, with love.
The trick, I think, is to get to that point instantaneously. To forgive others and myself the second it happens. I'm practicing that concept. I'll keep you posted on its progress!
Whenever there is injury, may I be quick to pardon.
Where there is hatred, Let me sow love.
I love this line of his prayer.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love. Now where is there hatred? Where is it lurking? Where does it exist? I suppose we can picture many places in our world where there is hatred....like war-torn countries, like places where there is gang violence, like where crime and violence seem to linger. But I propose to you that St. Francis did not say look to other places for hatred....he said let me sow love so I think he meant for us to look at the hatred that is closer to our lives.
What do I hate? I hate it when I feel taken advantage of....I hate it when someone is unkind to me....I hate it when people make fun of me or of others at that some one's expense....I hate it when it feels like my world is crashing in around me. I just hate those times.
So the next line says, "Let me sow love." What does that mean? How do you 'sow' love? I think St. Francis was speaking as if sowing in a field...planting seeds, scattering seeds, disseminating seeds.....Seeds of love. Hmmmm What kind of seeds are those?
Is it merely "good feelings"? Is it something that makes us feel good by doing it? Is it a decision to love, to care for, to nurture. Perhaps it is all of these things. When I am sowing love, I concentrate on forgiveness. I concentrate on someone else's needs, rather than my own. I concentrate on what bring peace to the situation. Sowing love is not an easy task and yet it is the easiest thing in the whole wide world to do! Be gentle, be kind, be accepting, be loving. Let it come from within and proceed out. Let it be.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love.
Lord, Make Me An Instrument of Your Peace
I always like to look at statues and pictures of St. Francis of Assissi. He is usually holding a small animal in his arms and just his essence transmits the feeling of peace. I committed the prayer of St. Francis of Assissi very early in my life and it holds not only peace for me but also holds challenges.
The first line, "Lord, Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace" is such a telling first line. I think that if we "got" this first line, we wouldn't need any others! Let me dissect it.....
Lord......This to me tells of St. Francis' acknowledgement of a surpreme being in his life. And it is like he surrenders to that. That sets up the feeling of peace by the first word!
Make....Again, St. Francis is surrendering to this surpreme being by acnnoldeging the power this being has....Like, it would take a surpreme being to "make" us do something.
Instrument....Whether a guitar, a harp, a french horn, a pen, a notebook.....the instruement has a purpose. It is something useful. It is something that everyone can acknowledge and recognize. It is something of value. In St. Francis' prayer, he asks to a make me an instrument of peace. Let me be useful, let me have purpose, let me be played or used for the wonderment of peace. What an appropriate word he chose!
Thy....Acknowledging that God is the supreme being and it is His peace that St. Francis wants to propegate. Just using the word "thy" puts us in another realm, the realm of a place that is serene.
Peace....We have heard this word thousands of times but I wonder if we really have done much thinking about it. Is peace just the absence of war and troubles? Does peace mean no struggling, no fear, no heartbreak? I think not. I think peace includes all of the pain and suffering in the world and then rises above it, changing it from a negative thing to a positive thing. I used to belong to a group of women that included in opening ceremony...."Let us transmute the dust into stardust". I think this is an important part of peace.....transmujting or changing dust into stardust, sorrow into joy, pain into gladness. Whew if that is what St. Francis was thinking, he left us a big challenge.
How do we do that?
The Power of the Peach
I have been fascinated by the Peach and its power. Power, you ask? How can a peach have power???? Allow me to relay to you just some of the ways that the peach has an indescribable, monumental power. Read on!
When I was 8 years old I took a peach pit and planted it in our backyard....and of course, I never told anyone about doing that. Then the next spring my father tried to figure out what was growing in our backyard. Naturally I forgot all about planting it. Some company came by and Dad asked what it was that was growing, The man was from somewhere in the South and he said it was a PEACH tree! And then I remembred planting it the summer before. I remembered the little ceremony I had to bless it and asked to grow. AND I WAS AMAZED! I didn't know that the peach would survive harsh Wyoming winters and then come up in the spring! It even had some 30+ leaves. I thought then how powerful the peach was. I wondered about that for a long, long time.
In the summer when fruit was less expensive, my favorite thing for breakfast and for desert was peaches and cream. Mom would buy the peaches, picking out the very best ones and very often she peeled them and sliced them. Then we used REAL cram and a couple spoonfuls of sugar. It was always my very favorite. What I liked was not ony the flavor, but it seemed as if everyone in our family of 6 was happy when we were eating peaches and cream. I thought about how powerful the peach was as it turned people's faces into smiles and it made our home more serene. I wondered about that for a long, long time.
Even when my sons were babies, their favorite food from baby food jars were Gerber's peaches. They might have been really cranky before eating them, but one bite and they were happy babies once again. You might argue that they would have had that response from just getting food in their empty tummies. One could. However, all the other foods offered to them were not crying stoppers---only thepeach. One might argue that it was the sugar in the peaches that satisfied them. One could. However, all the other "sweet" fruits set before them were always passed over for the love of the peach. Now is that power, or what????
The power of the peach is so significant in my life that many years ago it was in the form of peach cobbler and it became the opening for me to fall in love. How, I hear you asking? How could it possibly be credited for that capability? I tell you that peach moved my whole body, mind, heart, and spirit. It was wonderful. Ihave long contemplated how that could happen with just a bite of peach. All I know is that it happened and I have always been grateful to the Persistant Peach for all of the goodness it has brought me.
And finally, the power of the peach does its thing as far as my moments of depression arise. I can sit down with real peaches. (but cream has been replaced with skim milk and sugar with Splenda) or canned peaches or frozen peaches or dried peaches and become immediately composed and the depression goes silently away---as if it had never been there. Now that is Power. Wouldn't you agree?
Oh how I love peaches!
