Reunion Thoughts

Well, I said I was going to start blogging on midlife, and surely there is nothing more midlife than a 40^th high school reunion. I attended my husband's reunion with him last night. I was not a member of the class of 1974, but close enough that the kids in his yearbook look interchangeable with the kids in mine. Same hair and clothing styles, same cultural touch points. Since it wasn't my class, there was absolutely no stress on me – I had no memories to reconcile with present day reality, no concerns about what anyone would think of me,no past to live down or live up to.

Of course one of my observations is that by a 40^th reunion, most of those petty concerns fall away anyway. As one of Bob's classmates put it, “At this point we're just glad we're alive!” I suspect for any class at a 40^th reunion, the reality is there is a large enough contingent of deceased classmates to bring home that reality. But beyond that, there just seems to be a realization that shared history is a precious thing. It is exciting to meet someone who remembers the same things you do. I would see Bob's face light up as some old story was told that he hadn't thought of in decades.

Several hours into the party I was standing chatting with another wife of a class member, and nearby someone was updating a friend on his mother's recent health issues. I pointed out that I had been hearing variations on this conversation all night. Sadly, this was probably the greatest shared reality of people 40 years past high school graduation – that our parents' health is failing, and we are suddenly thrust into the role of caring for them or making sure care is provided.

Of course there was conversation about kids and grandkids, but I notice that the tenor of those conversations was a lot different than when we were younger, too. There was a time when parenting could quickly become a competitive sport – my kid is so good at this and that and has won these awards, blah, blah, blah. But that wasn't the way people were talking about their kids this time. They tended to be much more real, while no less loving. It was more like, “My kid is here or there, does this or that....wasn't sure I liked the choice, but I just want her to be happy.” Or, “He's still wandering but we think he's going to be OK.” I guess it just feels like by this point, we've finally figured out that our kids are separate from us, they are who they are, and their choices aren't a reflection on us.

We had a great time. One of his classmates said as we were leaving, “Tonight seems almost less about finding old friends than making new ones.” There was some truth to that. There were people at that party that we would enjoy going out with in another context, and it just might happen.

And Justice There is None by Deborah Crombie

In this, the 8^th installment of the Duncan Kincaid/Gemma James series, Gemma has just assumed her new role of Inspector at the Notting Hill station when the wife of a prominent antiques dealer is found murdered outside their home. Unfortunately, the manner of death looks very similar to an unsolved case of Duncan's, so before she knows it, he is working with her on the combined case -- both blessing and curse.

As always in Crombie's writing, the case is full of well-drawn, three-dimensional characters who have complex, intertwined lives that it takes a while to figure out. But this time there's a wrinkle: Duncan has arranged for himself and Gemma to sublease a house in Notting Hill, thus combining their two families and moving forward in their life together. But that means that the interesting characters in this case are not just suspects and persons of interest – they are their new neighbors, people with whom they will need to interact over the long haul.

I found this case particularly intriguing. It involves a very complex back story that slowly unfolds, and even though it is complex, it is believably so. I didn't figure out “who dunnit” until the big reveal, and as tends to happen when characters are well written, by the end my heart ached for many of them – so much suffering for events that transpired literally a lifetime before.

At this point I want to discuss another big part of the ongoing subplot of the title characters' life, so I'm issuing a SPOILER ALERT. Don't read on if you don't want to know the next major plot twist in Duncan and Gemma's life together. Just stop here with my recommendation that this is definitely a book worth reading.

Seriously, I mean you – don't just peek at the beginning of the next sentence unless you want to know!

At the end of the last book, we learned that Gemma was pregnant. Throughout this book she comes to terms with that reality. It is the catalyst that leads to Duncan and Gemma combining households (that plus the fact that Kit finally comes to live with Duncan full-time) and it impacts her work relationships and pretty much everything. But in the final pages of the book, Gemma loses the baby. I think that this was a wise choice on Crombie's part. The introduction of the pregnancy allowed her to break through Gemma's stubborn reserve and accept moving in together much sooner and more easily than would have been plausible. It made a lot of good things come together in this one book. But realistically, having the baby would have been really, really challenging to incorporate into future stories. I know that brave policewomen everywhere DO go back to work and put their lives on the line again with an infant at home – but I think having Gemma do so would have fundamentally changed the flavor of this series. The choice that was made is a better one, and it set the stage for the many good things to come.

On gray hair and email and new direction

The other day my boss, a lovely 30-year-old I like a lot, was surprised to learn that I have a blog and asked me if I write about anything special. The sad part of this story is that I kind of stammered and muttered something like, “Not really. Lately it has mainly been book reviews.” Which was absolutely true. Any of my few long time readers could tell you that I have long lamented not having a passion to drive my writing. So my blog has tended to be a little of this, a little of that.

But I feel like that might be changing. Increasingly, I find that my age is kind of a big deal in my life. I'm 55 years old. Somehow, 55 feels really a lot different than 50 did. I mean, 50 kind of felt like an extension of the 40's. I was still interested in all the same things, and people didn't seem to perceive me differently. But in the intervening five years, that has changed. Admittedly, I may have accelerated the change by allowing my hair to go natural. Meaning, gray. Which makes a surprisingly big difference in how strangers treat you. I'm beginning to understand the old cliché about how older women become invisible. Plus my son and my added on son have reached their 20's, so I'm not mothering in the classic sense any more.  I feel more like a coach or something.

Also, I changed day jobs. I went from a fund raising position at the Girl Scouts to a similar one at the Boy Scouts, both organizations I respect tremendously, just because there was a higher level position available and hey, I'm paying college tuition right now, you know? I didn't expect it to make as big a difference as it did. But at least in my particular council, Boy Scout professionals are young. I am surrounded by 20-somethings most of the time and honestly, I feel like Methusaleh. It is amazing how often things come up in conversation that highlight the difference in our ages.

But today, I had a win. Overnight the national organization migrated our email from one server to another. This meant we had to jump through some hoops this morning to get our email activated again, and then there were a bunch of instructions that had to be followed to get our phones and other remote devices to sync again. I am proud to say that I was the first person in the office to get my email working again and, once our IT support person came in and told me that getting the phone working again would entail deleting the old account completely and starting again, I was the one who figured out how to accomplish that for the Android phones, too, and ended up getting to talk several younger colleagues through the process. It felt great to NOT fit the stereotype!! 

I realize that mid-life blogs are all over the web now, so I don't get any bonus points for originality. But I don't think I care. I'm just going to try to put it out there, talk about how this age feels to me. If people like it, that's great and I'll enjoy knowing I have some readers. If they don't, that's probably OK too. I think I will feel better just having a place to vent and a chance to process some of this stuff. So let the mid-life blogging begin!

A Finer End by Deborah Crombie

I just finished A Finer End, Deborah Crombie's seventh book, continuing the Duncan Kincaid/Gemma James series. It is set in a small village that has a long tradition of mystical experiences and other-worldly communications. One of the residents of the village just happens to be Duncan Kinkaid's cousin, which makes it convenient for Duncan and Gemma to be called in when the mystical happenings begin to take on some all-too-physical manifestations in the form of an attempted murder and a successful one.

I have a soft spot for mysticism and religion, so I enjoyed the main story line. But I can't help but feel that more than any of the first six, this book might not be everyone's cup of tea. From the early introduction of automatic writing (where the writer is completely unaware of what he is writing, just serving as a vessel through which a spirit can communicate) to ending up in more or less of a quest for the Holy Grail, there's a lot that is metaphysical. Which is not to say that there isn't also a basic mystery, with lots of characters to sort out and evaluate and care about. So there really is a lot there for the average mystery reader, too. And of course, Deborah Crombie's writing is as evocative and compelling as ever. I feel like I've really been to the location and met the characters in real life.

The story of the protagonists' personal lives continues to develop as well. Moving the focus away from the introduction of Kit, which has been the central point of the back story for several books, we find Gemma facing a big personal challenge in this outing. By the end she has made a decision and shared it with Duncan, but there's lots of angst in getting to that point. And lots of unanswered questions about where it will lead moving forward. (Which, as I've said before, is why I enjoy series like this one. I like the juxtaposition of a freestanding mystery in each book against the ongoing story of realistic, messy, three-dimensional character lives.)

I am still enjoying the exercise of re-reading this series, and am excited to see that a new one, To Dwell In Darkness, is being released in September. If I haven't made it through them all by then, I will probably have to take a break from this process to read it. I mean hey, I have to check in on my friends, you know?

Kissed a Sad Good-Bye by Deborah Crombie

As part of my ongoing project to re-read all of Deborah Crombie's Duncan Kinkaid/Gemma James series, I just finished Kissed A Sad Good-Bye, her sixth book. It's been a hectic couple of months for me and I had trouble making time for extended reading periods. I had feared that this was going to put this book at an unfair disadvantage, but I needn't have worried. It was far too good a book to be ruined, even by frequent interruptions.

Unlike the previous entry in the series, here the ongoing back story of the main characters stays well and truly in the background. Yes, we see moments in each of their personal lives, and the relationship with Kit that was introduced in the previous book moves along, but slowly and never as the central focus of the book. Gemma's inner life and private side probably gets more of our attention than Duncan's, and certainly more than usual.

Early in the book Duncan and Gemma are called out on a murder case, and that case is the meat of this book. In many ways it is just a very good, standard police procedural. But one thing that makes it different is that interspersed with the story of the case, there are short installments on another story, set in World War II. We follow a young boy as he is evacuated from the East End of London and sent to live on an estate in Surrey. Though the snippets make good reading, the author takes a long time to reveal that there is any connection between these historical snippets and today's case. Even after we begin to see some connections, the real significance of the World War II story doesn't come through until the very end of the book. Then, at last, the pieces all come together to form a satisfying picture and we realize that today's action could never be understood without knowledge of those long-ago events.

As always with Crombie's writing, the characters we meet are wonderfully three-dimensional, fully formed and human. From the dead woman who was either the perfect daughter, employee and fiancee or a promiscuous, disloyal, overly ambitious schemer to the beguiling clarinet-playing busker, with the shattered, ne'er-do-well bereaved fiance and the professionally competent but socially insecure female colleague – to say nothing of the frustrated detective inspector they are forced to work with, little though she may want their help – these people live and breathe and surprise us. And speaking of surprises, when we finally get to the inevitable “who done it” moment of the mystery, it is surprising indeed!

Deborah Crombie has done it again. Even though I've read the whole series before, even though I decided to read them again because I have loved them so much, I still find it a bit surprising how well they have held up and how much I am enjoying each installment the second time around. I can't wait to re-read the remaining eight. And I'm so excited to learn that this September a new one will be released!

Dreaming of the Bones by Deborah Crombie

In my continuing project of re-reading Deborah Crombie's entire Duncan Kincaid/Gemma James series, I just completed Dreaming of the Bones. I remembered this one more vividly than I had the first four. Now that I've finished, I'm convinced that the reason I remembered it so well was that this one marked the spot where Crombie's already-good writing really ratcheted up a notch.

To discuss any of her books one has to address two aspects. There's the free-standing story of the book, and there's the ongoing character development in the back story of the protagonists. Honestly, given the strength of both those components, I'm amazed that these books haven't been made into a TV series by the BBC or PBS. (Though I may be glad they haven't, as I don't always appreciate their interpretations of books I've enjoyed.)

This story opens with Duncan getting a phone call from his ex-wife, Vic. He goes to Cambridge to see her and soon we are involved in her life at the college, meeting a variety of academic types and artists so well drawn I could easily see them and hear their voices. Vic is writing a biography of a poet who died five years earlier and has become convinced her suicide was really a murder, and as events unfold it becomes increasingly obvious to the reader and eventually, to Duncan and Gemma, that Vic's suspicions were well founded. Still, it takes them a long time to pull at enough threads to untangle the relationships and mysteries and begin to piece together events from the past that led to that murder, and others. When it finally comes out it is so believable and so consistent with the characters we've met that it is a very satisfying reveal indeed.

It is the ongoing back story that provides the challenge in writing about this series of books, since Crombie's characters really do grow and change over the course of them. Thus it is almost impossible to discuss the developments without including spoilers for those still on earlier books. So I will just say this: a new, permanent character is introduced and by the end of this book it is too soon to know if the effect on Duncan and Gemma's lives will be for the better or worse. Yet the way they react to the new character goes a long way to cementing for the reader who they are, both as individuals and as a partnership. I believe this book had stayed with me so vividly because it marked the point where I moved from liking these mysteries to being in love with them. For me, Duncan and Gemma stopped being another set of detectives and became old friends. I have picked up each installment since with the same eagerness I bring to letters from dear friends who have moved away over the years.

I know not everyone enjoys mysteries as much as I do, but I would say that if you are a reader, if you enjoy well-developed characters, then you will enjoy these books. Because while they ARE mysteries, and darned good ones, they are also just plain good novels.

Reflections on Lent

Those of you who have followed my off-and-on-again blogging for a while will remember that for several consecutive years, I did my own separate Lenten blog.  Each day I would read the daily readings assigned by the church, reflect upon them, and write a blog entry about what they stirred in me. 

I stopped doing that blog a few years ago just because it felt like it was time.  The joy and spontaneity had gone out of it and it felt like drudgery or even worse, like a self-serving exercise.  So I turned my attention to other Lenten disciplines.

This year, I committed to myself that I would do a daily Lenten devotion.  The first few days of Lent I used some printed materials I had picked up at the Catholic Women’s Conference in February, but then I stumbled into some wonderful resources at the Creighton University Online Ministries website.  (http://onlineministries.creighton.edu/CollaborativeMinistry/Lent/index.html)  They have a section called Praying Lent that leads one through a daily devotion built on the assigned reading for the day, and I have found those devotions very good.  The reflection each day is written by a different member of the Creighton University faculty or staff and I have found them quite effective and thought provoking. 

There is also a link to a Lenten Online Retreat.  I’m sure to some that would seem like a bizarre mixing of concepts – isn’t a retreat where you go to get away from online stuff?  But I have found it extremely moving.  And in all honestly, I have probably given it only about 35% of the effort it deserves.  But even at that, it has made a difference for me.  It gives you something to think about and then tells you to try to hold that concept in your mind and heart and focus on it in the in-between-times of your day.  It talks a lot about letting these concepts work in the background as your conscious effort is going into the regular activities of life.  And while I feel like I’m only having so-so success at doing that, I can still feel the benefits. 

And today, after reading the daily devotion and the thought starters for the Third Week of Lent, for the first time in a long time, I felt motivated to blog about my journey.  I don’t succeed at staying focused on Lent and all it means every single day.  I don’t even succeed at keeping my Lenten discipline every single day, though I try and I don’t miss too many days.  But even with my failings, I feel God reaching out to me, reassuring me that he is always there, hearing the cries of my heart and filling my life with so much love and plenty that I am awed and humbled.  For me, this year, God’s messages are pretty strongly about hands-on how to live my life, how to walk the talk of my faith, how to see Jesus in the tangible, real-world needs of those around me.  I think that message varies based on who we are, where we are, and what we need.  But in Lent 2014, for me, that is the message I’m getting. So I just rededicate myself to trying to look for Jesus in those around me and to trying, in my own weak, humble way, to do what he would have me do.  

Mourn Not Your Dead by Deborah Crombie

In my continuing quest to re-read the entire Kincaid and James series by Deborah Crombie,(big tip of the hat to  http://litlequeenrules.blogspot.com for the challenge that started this) I just finished Mourn Not Your Dead. 

Their relationship strained by events of the previous book, Duncan and Gemma are called to a suburb to investigate the death of a high ranking police officer. Both had been acquainted with him in life, and they find that no one in his village seemed to find him any more appealing a character than they had. The plot unfolds with many questions, such as “Was his wife having an affair? And if so, with which of a couple possible candidates?” Or, “Was the deceased a dirty cop?” The investigation follows a believably twisting tale, solving a series of burglaries only to determine in the end that it was unrelated to the murder, and sending the protagonists back and forth between Surrey and London many times. The book is full of believable, three-dimensional characters that I quickly grew to care about. And as is so often the case in real life, the ultimate solution was heartbreaking, revealing painful secrets that would have far-reaching effects on many lives.

One thing I was immensely relieved about the first time I read this book was that by the end, Duncan and Gemma have resolved the strain in their relationship and the ground is well laid for the future. Now that I have the foreknowledge of what comes in future books, it was delicious to see the pieces begin to fall in place.

I have loved these books since I first encountered them, probably well over a decade ago, and I find re-reading only reminds me of the reasons why. Duncan and Gemma are well developed, realistic three-dimensional characters who don't always make the right choices but do always operate from a clear internal logic. Each case is complex and interesting and occupied buy people, not stereotypes. I strongly recommend these books for anyone who likes character-driven stories. I would honestly say that while they are great mysteries, that is secondary to their appeal as character studies. To start down the path with Gemma and Duncan is to make friends, and the more of them you read, the deeper the friendship becomes.

Leave the Grave Green by Deborah Crombie

For anyone who has missed the previous posts, I am re-reading the Deborah Crombie mysteries that I enjoyed so much the first time as part of a reader challenge from another blog. Last night I finished Leave the Grave Green, the third book in the series.

The mystery in this one really captivated me, and I'm pleased to say I really didn't remember enough of the plot to take anything away from my reading pleasure. (I read so many mysteries that I don't retain the details much. It is the characters that stay with me. And that's why I choose the authors I do!)

Leave the Grave Green begins with a prologue scene that occurs over 20 years before the main action of the story. I often find such scenes superfluous, but in this case it is really integral to understanding the characters involved when we meet them. Once we jump to the present, we also jump right into the action. No long exposition here!

Other than Gemma and Duncan, the Sergeant and Chief Inspector who are the constants throughout the series, this mystery is centered in the world of opera and of titled British gentry. There are lots of nice scenes where stereotypes are set up just so they can be knocked down, and lots of interesting tensions among the new characters and the ones we already know. And a mystery so well crafted that I never saw the solution until it was being revealed.

Here I run into a snag. The most interesting thing about this book, to me, is the surprise twist in the back story of the main characters. But since I anticipate that I have readers who have not read these yet, and are still deciding whether to read them, I don't want to include any spoilers. So all I feel at liberty to say is that the end is a big surprise, and since I've read the entire series before, trust me when I say that it all works out well eventually.   

All Shall Be Well by Deborah Crombie

Today I finished All Shall Be Well, the second in the Kincaid and James mystery series by Deborah Crombie.  I'm re-reading this series as part of a reading challenge at  http://litlequeenrules.blogspot.com.  I have already read and loved this entire series, so I considered this challenge a fun opportunity to enjoy them again and post reviews.

Having the perspective knowing how these characters will grow and change and how their lives will evolve, re-reading these early books gives me great respect for the way this author balances the mystery that is the current book with the slow, methodical development of the main characters in the background.  She very cleverly sets the central mystery of this one in the apartment house where Duncan Kincaid lives, providing an easy way to pull in more of his personal life without detracting from the main story.  Similarly, there are just a few scenes that involve Gemma James away from work, but they serve to flesh out her character a lot, too. It makes me wonder, idly, whether Crombie actually wrote them with an eye to a long-term story, thus taking her time with it, or whether at the beginning she just put in some background to add depth to the characters, and only after the books succeeded did she begin to chart a longer-term course for their lives. Either way, it works very well, proceeding at a wonderfully lifelike, unhurried pace.

The mystery itself is engaging and the characters involved in it feel very three-dimensional and real. I particularly enjoyed the fact that the least likable character, the obvious choice for the murder, ended up being guilty of nothing worse than being a bad human being, and that some of the other characters clearly grew within the course of the story, ending up stronger people than when the story began. The ultimate resolution is completely plausible and heart-wrenchingly sad.  My only tiny complaint was that, at the end, when Duncan got his flash of insight and "the pieces snicked into place in his mind with blinding clarity,"  I didn't feel like the author had given us quite enough information to have had the opportunity to have the same "snick into place." But it is possible, of course, that she did and this reader just wasn't perceptive enough to pick them up -- even on a second reading!  (Though separated by many years from the first reading.)  

I have already picked up Leave the Grave Green, the next book in the series, and will probably start it today, though looking at my calendar I can see it might be a while before I can spend any time on it.  Oh well, at least I have it to look forward to when time allows!

A Share in Death by Deborah Crombie

I just finished re-reading A Share In Death, the first in the Kincaid and James mystery series by Deborah Crombie. As I mentioned earlier, I have read all 15 of these books, but am re-reading them in 2014 as part of a reading challenge at http://litlequeenrules.blogspot.com. They have this cool graphic for the challenge:

What a delight this was!  Trying to avoid spoilers here, suffice it to say I have seen these officers' back stories grow through substantial twists and turns over the 15 books. It is a strange feeling now to go back and interact with them in this initial foray.  The characters were consistent with who they become over the life of the series, but there was very little foreshadowing of the direction their lives would take and how strong and effective their partnership would become.  Indeed, this first book is substantially about Duncan Kincaid, with Gemma Jones playing a very secondary role.

The book also stands perfectly well as a free-standing mystery.  Like many cozies, this one is set at a British country timeshare, (OK, the convention used to be a British country house, but timeshare makes it feel modern) where you naturally have a bunch of seemingly unrelated characters meeting for the first time and revealing little secrets about their workaday lives.  And it follows the rather standard mystery formula (which I love) of having the first murder occur quickly -- in this case, at the end of the third chapter.  Then it's a pleasant exercise in character development, clue-sorting, and logic, with a few well-placed red herrings.  By the end of the book the mystery solution was plausible enough to satisfy but creative enough to surprise, and the characters so well rounded that I actually cared what happened to them after I closed the book.

I can't wait to begin All Shall Be Well, the next in the series!

One-word Resolution

The wonderful Laura Lippman, author of the Tess Monaghan novels and others, posts that she has a 7-year tradition of setting a one-word resolution for the new year.  (In case you’re curious, as I was, her seven resolutions to date were Stretch, Maintain, Venture, Be, Execute, Repurpose and for 2014, Appreciate.) She challenged readers to come up with their own one-word resolution and after some thought, I have done so. 

My one-word resolution for 2014 is Integrate.  The definitions, from Dictionary.com:

in·te·grate [in-ti-greyt]; verb (used with object), in·te·grat·ed, in·te·grat·ing.
1. to bring together or incorporate (parts) into a whole.
2. to make up, combine, or complete to produce a whole or a larger unit, as parts do.
3. to unite or combine.

So why is that my resolution? 

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a wide array of interests and because of that, a wide array of different people in my life, often with very different lifestyles.  Being the non-confrontational sort, I don’t have much trouble living peacefully with these different groups.  In fact, I very much value the diversity they bring to my life.  But I often feel that my life is very subdivided, with certain things shared in one place and others shared in another, and never the twain shall meet. For example, it pleases me that I have extreme conservatives and extreme progressives, straights and gays, black and white, Christians of various sorts, Jews, a Moslem and a Druid as well as some who are avidly anti-organized-religion among my Facebook friends, and I quite sincerely “Like” a lot of posts from all, but it creates a real quandary, a second-guessing, when I think about things I might want to post.

Similarly, for the past 20 years or more, I have always felt like various roles that I play in life, while each very important to me, tend toward conflict with each other.  At the very least, they live together in some tension.  Not only does professional life conflict with wife and mother, but sometimes even wife and mother coexist less peacefully than one might think.  To say nothing of the balancing act between mothering my actual son and my added-on son of the past few years. I have a regular “day job” that provides much satisfaction as well as stability, but at the same time I have the strong desire to do more with my writing. So I spend most of my time feeling pulled between competing roles.

Finally, I just had my double-nickel birthday and somehow much more than my 50^th birthday, the number brought me up short.  If I let it, it makes me feel old.  Or perhaps more accurately, it makes me acutely aware that I risk becoming old.  I am aware that my body is beginning to impose some limitations but at the same time also keenly aware that the more I do physically, the more I will be able to do and the longer I will be able to do it.  The same is true in my thinking.  One doesn’t live 55 years without amassing a great deal of experience, but it is always a challenge to keep the positive learning and not fall into complacency or become a curmudgeon. And there are still so many new experiences I long to try! So many books to read, so many places to visit!

So my resolution is to integrate.  To try to figure out what actually matters to me and do those things, and those things only. To focus less on my roles and how I will be received by anyone else and more on just doing what seems right and best. To make sure I continue to fill my life with new experiences while also retaining all the lessons learned from the old ones.  To really bring together the various parts of my life into a complete unit, united and whole, at peace with myself. 

Deborah Crombie Reading Challenge

After a long hiatus, I had already decided it was time to resume blogging.  Now I have a wonderful impetus to move on that resolution.

The blogger JoAnne Isgro at http://litlequeenrules.blogspot.com  has issued a reading challenge for 2014.  She has invited her readers to read (or in my case, re-read) the entire 15-book series of Duncan Kincaid/Gemma James mysteries by Deborah Crombie and comment upon them.  Deborah Crombie has been one of my favorite authors for a long time, so going back and re-reading her entire series will be pure pleasure for me.  I look forward to watching the growth of the characters over time with the omniscient view of one who has already seen many of the twists life will hand them.

I know that series like this one aren't everyone's cup of tea, but they are actually my favorite type of novel.  While I like mysteries because of the enforced structure (you start with a problem and end soon after the mystery is solved) I am drawn to series because in them, unlike some other mysteries, authors really can't cut corners on character development.  If a series is going to be any good, the characters have to be multi-dimensional and they have to grow and change over time in believable ways.  

I don't own the earlier books in this series, so I had ordered the first two from my local library.  They just arrived and are now sitting on my kitchen counter.  I can hardly wait to dive into them!

Wait: Summer break is here already?

I've taken a little break from blogging. Not by design as much as by being too busy in the whirlwind of everyday life. It seems like the last few months have been an even greater whirlwind than usual. So today is a “catch up on the past few months” post.

In a move that sounds to me like something out of a sitcom, I changed my day job, moving from the Girl Scouts to the Boy Scouts. It was just a career move – there was a higher level position open at the Boy Scouts. I have had a long, close relationship with the Boy Scouts because of Sam's Scouting experience and Bob's long volunteer involvement. The work was very similar. So it seemed like kind of a no-brainer.

But of course, change, even positive change, takes energy. I've been there two months now and am just beginning to feel like I'm getting my head above water. I finally have a pretty good understanding of what needs to be done and what it's going to take to do it. It involved more of a change to my daily schedule than I might have expected, so I've had to learn (and introduce to the family) a new set of routines around dinners, when I'm available to help with things, etc. I travel around the state more than I did before. None of these are negatives, just changes that had to be absorbed and worked through.

Everyone who knows me knows that church choir is my biggest “hobby.” (Somehow that feels like a disrespectful way to refer to it – it seems so much more than that.) In these few months away from the blog, we went through Holy Week, with its five major sung services in eight days, and Confirmation, where we provide special music on a Saturday morning. Along with all the other little dramas that go along with choir – members with dying parents, medical issues of their own, our ongoing saga of “who will be our permanent director.” So while always, always a joy in my life, this has been another big part of the whirlwind as well.

Sam has been home from college for more than a week and except for the fact that he hasn't found a job yet, that transition has gone surprisingly smoothly. I'm thrilled to have him home, but I know many of my friends have had a rough time the summer their child first came home from college. Add to that the fact that Warren had been living here like an only child for the school year, and I was a little nervous. But so far it feels drama free.

Sam is hoping to get a job on a painting crew this summer. I think he likes the fact it doesn't require a lot of waiting on customers: he just has to show up and work hard. He has interviewed, and feels good about his prospects, but until there is an actual job offer, Mom is going to fret. The one he is most wants said they are going to work four 10-hour days a week, and he is really liking the idea of three-day weekends. I'm liking the idea of a summer's worth of full-time income to refill his bank account.

Warren is working full time or very close to it at a new restaurant that opened near our house. I'm almost superstitiously afraid to say this out loud, but since the first of the year he has been doing really well. He had a job at Wendy's and although he didn't much like it, he showed a lot better self-discipline than he used to in continuing to do what he needed to do to not lose the job. He only left it when he landed this job, where he is getting more hours and therefore earning more, plus tips, and actually doesn't mind the work. He's doing better at home, too. I feel like he took a sudden spurt of maturing. He seems to be trying much harder to be considerate, and is actually thinking about his future beyond just what he needs to get through the day. As I said, I'm almost afraid to say anything lest I jinx it.

And of course, Bob proceeds steadily and full of good humor, as always.  Very busy with all his Boy Scout and church volunteer work.  Very happy that his golf league has resumed.  Feeling somewhat thwarted and unappreciated at his work, but still grateful to be employed. He and I are looking forward to outdoor fun.

Overall, it feels like we are set up for a good summer, though one unlike any we have experienced before. That should generate plenty of fodder for the blog!

I am so excited about Pope Francis!

I've been so busy lately that I just haven't had the energy to blog. But instead of writing about any of those things making me busy, now that I have a few minutes, I prefer to write about Pope Francis.

As the conclave of cardinals was setting up, Bob and I watched with sort of cynical interest. We read the analyses and followed the handicapping and figured some Italian cardinal who was a good administrator would be elected pope. If we were lucky, he would clean out some of the people who had led to the scandals in the Church. If we weren't, he would move the the Church even further to the conservative side, making the changes implemented after Vatican II more and more impotent.

Instead, the conclave did something unexpected. They elected a cardinal from Buenos Aires, Argentina. A cardinal who was best known for his humility and simple lifestyle. And he did a bunch of surprising things. He took the name Pope Francis, when there has never been a Pope Francis before. (And no, major media outlets, that doesn't make him Pope Francis I. He will be known as “the first” in retrospect when and if there is a Pope Francis II.) He declined to sit upon a throne and accept the tribute of the other cardinals, preferring to stand at their level and greet them each that way. When he made his first public appearance, he asked the assembled faithful at St. Peter's to pray for him. He chose not to take the papal limousine back to his quarters for the night, opting to ride the bust with the other cardinals. He stopped on his way back the next morning to pay the bill at the place he had stayed in the days leading up to the conclave.

And he continues to surprise. For example, instead of performing the traditional washing of the feet at St. Peter's or the main parish church there in Rome, he is going to a juvenile detention center to wash the feet of those incarcerated. He personally called the owner of the kiosk back in Argentina, where he used to buy his daily paper, to cancel his paper order.

I am not naive. I don't think this pope is going to be the one who makes the big doctrinal changes in the church that many liberals hope for. He's not going to begin to ordain women, or even married men. He won't change the church's stance on homosexuality. He is fairly conservative in his beliefs and he won't be the one who makes any of those changes. But no one else who was realistically likely to be elected was, either. Those changes were not in the cards for this papacy. Period. 

But I think this pope may make changes that have far reaching effects. This is a man who views his papacy...his ministry.....probably the entire world …..in the context of the beatitudes. He is someone who believes in simplicity, in meekness, in mercy; Who has lived his life dedicated to these concepts and trying to integrate them into his own life. And I am naive enough.....or idealistic enough....to believe that this world view can make a powerful difference. I can't wait to see what new examples he presents us, and how that mindset affects the decisions he makes. I actually dare to hope that this pope could be such an example of the Christian life that he inspires Catholics and non-Catholics to think about their faith and how it affects their life in a new way.

It's like we've been given an Easter gift. Alleluia!

Risky, but Right

Friday night Warren told us that a friend of his was getting kicked out of the place she'd been living and had nowhere to go, and asked if she could stay with us for a few days while she sorted it out. This was not the first time something like this has happened. Between the fact that Warren has a lot of friends from more precarious circumstances than himself and the fact that he actually has a very soft heart, we have had extra kids here at various times. She is at least the third to stay here short-term to avoid imminent  homelessness, and if I thought longer I might recall more. So much so, in fact, that when I talked to Sam on the phone and mentioned it he said, “Mom, you do realize you're not running a youth hostel, right?”

It's not always easy. People in situations like this usually need help with transportation. They need to eat. They need to take showers, and to sleep somewhere. When the someone is female, logistics are even more complicated. And of course, there's the nagging concern about security. Is this person as he or she seems? Is it safe having him or her here in my house, or are we going to come home one day to find all our valuables gone?

This young lady actually ended up staying with us only two days and one night.  She left last night to re-enter the uncertain life she knows.  She was really very sweet and I wish we could have done something to make a more lasting impact on her life.

But the real point of this post is, I'm so glad I didn't follow my first instinct and say no.  That would have been safer; by almost any standard, wiser. But I've spent most of my life living my Christian mission more in theory than practice, sending money without getting my hands dirty.  Lately I have felt like God wants to disturb my status quo a little more than that.

The other reason I'm glad I didn't say no was that it was actually a delight to see how kind Warren was to her while she was with us.  I had suspected, frankly, that he wanted her here because he thought it a convenient set-up to hit on her.  His behavior humbled me and made me feel bad for even thinking that.  He was kind and respectful.  Definitely treated her more like a little sister than a dating prospect. It was a pleasant reminder of why we invited him to live with us in the first place. He can sometimes frustrate and annoy, but there's a really good heart in that young man!

Old friendship: a rare and precious treasure

Yesterday a dear friend posted pictures that included me from a party we attended 30 years ago. While it was a blast seeing all those faces, it really made me stop to appreciate the fact that she and I have been friends for that long. A thirty year friendship is a rare and precious thing.

I don't have a lot of long-term friends. At the risk of sounding whiny, I partly blame my upbringing. We were rather nomadic, moving enough times that when I started 9^th grade it was my 10^th school. I learned a lot of good coping skills through that experience, but what I didn't learn was the value of holding onto friends. Apparently it wasn't something my parents put much stock in, either, because I didn't grow up seeing them keep in touch with any old friends.

At any rate, I drifted through childhood and into young adulthood with a kind of “love the ones you're with” approach to friendship. I almost always had friends wherever I was, but if life moved me on down the road, I didn't stay in touch with the old friends. Prior to the advent of Facebook with its power to reunite old classmates and the like, I had stayed loosely in touch with only two high school friends. I had not managed to maintain ANY of my college friendships. I still have no contact with anyone from graduate school. 

 My wonderful friend who posted the picture (and her husband, an equally close friend) came into my life around the grad school era, but as classmates of my first husband. We all shared a house during their last year of school. Ironically while my marriage didn't last, the friendship did. She later served as a bridesmaid in my wedding with Bob and while we don't get to see each other face to face very often, when we do it is always like picking up where the previous visit left off.

Apparently, I didn't begin to put down roots in friendships in any big way until I entered the working world. I do have at least a few friends who date back to my first post-grad school job. And each phase of my life after that seems to have generated some lasting friendships. Admittedly, each later phase is closer in time, so there hasn't been as long to lose touch with people. But my experience has been that I lost touch almost right away, because I used to not understand that friendship was worth holding on to.

It has been a big delight to reconnect with a lot of high school classmates and a few college ones through Facebook. The thing I have really enjoyed is seeing how the things that seemed so divisive in high school just don't matter now. A lot of the people I now interact with frequently were only casual acquaintances then. They moved in different circles and in high school, those social roles mattered. Now, we've all lived through enough that we are who we are. If who we've become clicks, we pick up the friendship. In some cases it is a renewing of something that was always there, in others it is like finding unexpected treasure.  

Lent? But it was just Christmas a minute ago!

Our church life has been yet another aspect of our lives adding interesting dimensions lately. In early January it was announced that a new pastor has been named to serve our parish, but he won’t start with us until March 5. Though no one I know is closely familiar with our new priest, the general scuttlebutt we hear about him is good. So hopes are up. Meanwhile, we won't hire a new music director until the new pastor is here to lead the effort. Fortunately our interim director, Paula, is doing a fine job and seems to be retaining her sanity fairly well.

A few years ago our parish went away from electing the parish council that advises the Pastor to drawing names of willing people out of a hat. (I believe the thinking was that in a parish as large as ours, voting yields only the highest name recognition, not necessarily any other characteristic.) Last year Bob was drawn as 2^nd alternate, so he felt like he had dodged the bullet, so to speak. But now the second person this year has resigned, and his name was called. He is already so overextended with Boy Scout volunteering that he wasn’t at all sure he could take this on. We discussed it and realized that now that Sam is off at college, I would probably actually enjoy taking on more of a leadership role at church. So we asked if I could take his place, and I am now a member of parish council. I have attended only one meeting so far, so I don’t yet have much of an opinion about it.

And now Lent has begun. For us that is a busy, intense time in the church. We started with special services on Ash Wednesday, and there will be special components in our Masses each Sunday. Many of us adopt some sort of Lenten discipline to help further focus us on listening to God during this time. At our parish, there is also a weekly fish fry put on by the Knights of Columbus, but drawing additional serving staff each week from a different organization. It’s a lovely way to enjoy fellowship with others in the church.

For Catholics Lent ends with what we call the Triduum. This is one long worship service celebrated in three sections over three days. It starts on Holy Thursday with a focus on the Last Supper; resumes on Good Friday with a commemoration of the suffering and death of Jesus on the cross; and it ends late Saturday night at the Easter Vigil, where we celebrate the rising of Jesus from the dead. This three-day service is a great time to be a choir member, as we do lots of special, interesting music. But of course, getting from here to there also means a heavy rehearsal schedule.

Some of you who have followed me in years past know that I have often done a separate Lenten blog as my Lenten discipline. I have opted not to do that this year, partly because this year I was really moved by the words of Matthew 6:6: "When you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you." And honestly, it just didn't feel right for me this year, whereas in those previous years, it felt absolutely right, and probably was the right thing to do then. So I've undertaken a private discipline this time instead. But even though daily blogging isn't my Lenten discipline this time, I am hoping I can keep up the recent trend of more frequent posts in this blog through Lent and beyond.

A Mother's Heart Goes On and On

I noted last night that there has actually been a lot going on in our lives, so it is time I start writing about some of it. Tonight, we update on my mother's health issues.

For the past several months, my mom has had bouts of two different problems. One is that she has had unexplained blackouts. She didn't always completely pass out, but she would more or less lose consciousness, become uncommunicative, and have no recall of it when she came back. First it was diagnosed as mini-strokes. Then when she had a worse one that landed her in the hospital, they suggested that it was actually seizures and put her on seizure medicine.

The second problem was increasingly severe abdominal pains. They had gotten to the point where she would be doubled over and screaming in pain. And really, my mom is not the demonstrative type. She doesn't scream. Between the two issues, she has had several hospitalizations, including I think three in a month's time.

Just over a week ago she was again rushed to the hospital, exhibiting both problems. But what proved to be different was that this time, the squad got there faster, so they ran a tape on her heart while she was in the worst of the problem. And it revealed that in fact, Mom's heart had STOPPED! Now the cardiologist says that he doesn't believe she ever had mini-strokes or seizures – that this has been the problem all along. A pacemaker was installed a week ago tomorrow, and she seems much better.

The abdominal pain, apparently, was from kidney infection that had escalated to near kidney failure. And the kidney infection was caused, we're told, by the assorted doctors who were treating her having over-prescribed to the point that they were poisoning her kidneys. So all her meds are being re-evaluated and adjusted.

Now Mom is at a nursing facility for two weeks of therapy and rehab before she returns home. On the one hand, it really highlights how little, old and frail my mom has become. She is 88 years old. She is in many ways a shadow of her former self. We are only given a limited time on this earth, and 88 years has to be nearing the extent of that. On the other hand, it is clear that the pacemaker and the nursing home are making a difference. She seems stronger than she has been in a while. It is looking like she might be able to go home, resume her daily activities and enjoy life as she knows it a while longer.

I've asked all my friends to pray for her, and I appreciate the many kind words I have heard in response. I continue to request those prayers. Everything logical tells me she is living on borrowed time, but I hope she and those of us who love her can manage to enjoy every day of that time.  

We Are Family

Over dinner tonight, Bob pointed out that we have had a lot of excitement and drama in our lives lately. And it struck me that he is absolutely right.....so why haven't I been writing?

One of the biggest, most dramatic events of the past few weeks was a death close to us. My Facebook friends have seen a lot of this already, but wow, it was an emotional experience.

For the past 18 years, I sang in the choir with Chris. For about the last ten years, I have sat right next to Chris. Every Wednesday night and Sunday morning, she was the person I relied on, joked around with, and got to know a little better than other people.

One Wednesday, it was just like always. Chris mentioned to me that she was seeing a doctor in the next few days and was concerned. She was a Type I diabetic and she had a wound on a toe that wasn't healing. That had her really concerned. Almost like an afterthought, she added that also, she was bruising. She said under her clothes it looked “like someone had beaten the crap out of” her. By the next Wednesday, we were praying for her soul, since life support was removed that afternoon and we didn't yet know whether she had survived the evening. (It turned out she was a fighter to the end: she didn't pass until 1:00 Friday morning.)

The bruising, it turns out, was because she had an aggressive leukemia. When the doctor saw her blood work he sent her directly to the hospital. They were supposed to do a bone marrow test, but before they could get to it, her brain began to bleed. They put her into a medically induced coma and cut her skull to remove the pressure on her brain. By Wednesday, her family made the difficult decision that Chris as we knew her was already gone and could never come back, and had the life support removed.

Chris was a person who had led a difficult life. All of us in the choir knew this, though she wasn't a complainer. In fact, quite the opposite. Chris was grateful for every positive thing that came her way and was always quick to offer a helping hand. She was a quiet, unassuming person with a wicked wit and a very generous heart. She did lots of things behind the scenes so quietly that none of us were aware of everything she did. Her absence from the choir is like a gaping, open wound. It has been really, really tough for us all.

In fact I would say that the only silver lining I can find in this tragedy is that this experience has made all of us in the choir stop and notice how much we mean to each other. We spend, on average, at least four hours a week together, sometimes more. Working together to a common goal. Often under emotionally charged circumstances. We laugh together, but we also pray together and sometimes, like this week, cry together. That's more time than most of us get to log with our siblings and other extended families. The loss of Chris has really focused us on the fact that we are, truly, a family too.