Three Years Later: Pittsburgh 11

Three years ago today I was with some people from my church on a work trip to storm-ravaged Panama City, FL. I logged onto Facebook to post some photos of the { undamaged }worship space at St Andrews's Episcopal Church, our " home base" for the work trip. 

 I saw several posts from people all over the nation .

 " Prayers for Pittsburgh"

  Whaaaat? 

  Quickly I flipped to the Yahoo News app on my phone and learned that 11 souls who were worshipping at Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh were gunned down by a bigot who let it be known on the Dark Web that his mission was deadly. 

  11 souls met their untimely demise simply because they, as Jewish-Americans, were worshipping in their synagogue. 

  Three years later, I wonder: Have we learned anything? 

  I'll never feel truly safe in worship again--- there is always that one chance that a person { usually a skinny, White " man child" will take out his rage on another house of worship--- including my own. 

 The pervasive cultural " norm" of White Straight Male Power has to stop. We are living in a multicultural, multi-faith, multilingual , globally-orientated time. People with my skin pigmentation are becoming a smaller segment of the fabric that is the USA. I am a Christian, but my Jewish heritage makes me take the events in Pittsburgh three years ago very seriously. 

  What have we learned in three years? We learned that some White  men still feel threatened by women { especially women-of-color} non-Christians { Muslims face more persecution than Jews.. but Jews are NOT exempt} people who identify as one or more of the LGBTQA+ alphabet soup and the working poor. 

 Many people in my life belong to one of the groups listed above, and it is days such as today that remind me how fractured this so-called " United States" really is now. 

 I wonder if maybe we were never ' united" in the first place. 

 Frankly, as a Christian, I am weary of Holy Scripture being used as weapons against " others". This is not a new problem--- our Scriptures { both Old and New Testaments} have been used to justify nearly every horrid act humans have committed against each other since the Canon was closed in 325 A.D. 

When I first arrived at The University of West Florida-- a relatively new Christian, I saw  people on the sidewalks yelling such phrases as " Jews Are Evil " Sinners Repent Now"  and { the worst " God Hates F___ "}

 My thoughts were: I did not sign up for this nonsense when I was baptized. Should I give up Christianity & go back to my own weird ways of communing with The Divine? 

 I went to the one person I know on campus who would not judge me for asking questions: My choir director. " Doc" Lynne listened with no judgement about why I felt repelled by the signs of  my faith on campus. Over the course of the semester she offered me Bible passages to read and ponder--- passages that shows Jesus as a champion of the poor, the powerless and the downtrodden. 

 Those of us fortunate enough to be able to gather on Saturday and celebrate the life and legacy of my dear friend were remined that people who follow Jesus, the Brown-skinned , born-in-a-barn travelling rabbi follow a Way of Love. Doc-- as human and therefore imperfect as everyone else-- lived her life daily as a follower of a Jesus Who came to show humans what Love Incarnate resembled. 

 I am sure Jesus would have wept at learning of the fallen 11 Pittsburgh Jews who were martyred three years ago today. I weep this day and every day that there is violence against people for simply being who God created them to be. 

 May my life -- as imperfect as I am-- reflect the Way of Love. 

Amen. 

~Sarah McCarren

27 Oct 2021
 

NEW: I Re-Started Twitter

 

Hey Tweeps.....

I know I've not been a faithful blogger lately, but a trip to the local emergency room on Sunday led me to be pretty much chair-bound for a couple days-- and writing from my lap in an easy chair is hard for me. 

I am fine, just was severely dehydrated and lacking some essential proteins in my diet. I stayed in the ER ward while they pumped me full of fluids via IV line and have the bruise on my right arm to prove it. OUCH. Anyway, I've a follow-up with my primary care doctor tomorrow to discuss a new eating/ supplemental plan. Right now I am downing what seems like oceans of water. 

 The other news is that I am back on Titter. My handle is @PensacolaHippie, and my " name" that appears as the owner of that social account is Pensacola Hippie. I'm trying to maintain my online " brand and synch all my social media. 

 This Twitter WILL NOT be about partisan politics. I plan to post pictures of my dog, re-tweets from the SVU and OC fandom. Mariska + Chris= BEAUTIFUL . and some Christian { Episcopal/Catholic-leaning} posts. I may throw in some Pittsburgh Sports tweets as well. GO STEELERS! GO PENGUINS! 

If you follow any of my old accounts, feel free to unfollow. Honestly I do not even remember the passwords, so those are useless. 

 Twitter and I have had a complicated relationship, but this time I'm the user calling the shots. So I am asking my followers to respect my wishes and NOT involve me in Twitter flame wars. Life is way too damn short for that nonsense. I will NOT post any partisan stuff , either in order to hold myself to my Twitter standards. I also WILL NOT  @Collab with ANYONE--- even someone whom I know in real life. I wish to be a boring middle-aged housewife who uses Twitter for fun--- I'm too old and way too square to be a future " influencer"{ what IS a Social Media Influencer ? I'm clearly to old to understand and that is fine with me. 

Feel free to drop your Twitter handles in the Facebook comments...

Peace...

~Sarah

Butterfly Tears

                             Butterfly, as seen on my evening walk. Photo by The Pensacola Hippie

I've been using these cooler late afternoon hours to walk more. { one of the many aspects of Florida Autumns that I love--- perfect walking weather}

 I am also making a point of being more mindful of my surroundings  in Nature-- my part of Pensacola is full of " green"  I had turned around at my about-face spot and saw something orange flying by some wild flowers. Quickly I pulled up my phone app and snapped photos of the delicate creature. 

 I continued home, tears of gratitude forming in my eye. I'd spent most of yesterday lamenting the fact that it has been over two weeks since the death of my dear friend, Lynne. Somehow, the butterfly's appearance reminded me that " Doc" Lynne and I shared a long , loyal friendship-- up until her last days. 

 When I arrived at The University of West Florida as a transfer student I was-- as the lingo of today says " a hot mess" . At the tender age of 23-- I was considered too old to be a ' traditional' student, so I arrived on campus convinced that I'd go to class, do my work, and return home.  

 On the first day of classes I realized that I needed a Fine Arts Credit: Always singing since childhood, I signed up for the open { no audition} required University Singers. This is when and how I met " Doc" a tiny woman whose smile lit up any space. 

 Doc and I continued our co-respondence  { mostly via email} after my time at UWF had come to a close. In addition to teaching duties at the university, Doc maintained an active private studio at her home and served on Sundays as the organist at First Baptist Church. 

 I was slightly less of a " hot mess" after college, but still lived a troubled life. I made some poor choices both in my professional and personal life. Unlike people who have known me since childhood, Doc never judged me. When some poor choice I made concerned her { and there were plenty of them!} she always admonished me from a place of Christian love. 

We trusted each other. She opened up to me about situations in her life that I still will not divulge to anyone. Doc and I enjoyed a long friendship that was build on mutual trust and respect--- even when we didn't agree.

 For instance  she could never figure out why I was-- and still am --a huge fan of Ani Difranco's music. She wanted to know why I listen to " angry woman music" and I told her. " Because Ani Difranco has the chutzpah to pour her truth into her words and music." {Plus, Ms Difranco said things in her songs/poems that I felt, but dared not say in conservative Northwest Florida. }

Back to the butterfly: I'll miss " Doc" forever on this side of Paradise, The butterfly I saw tonight remined me that God sent her to me to help me get all the messy gooey parts that lived inside my chrysalis put together into the fully-formed , airborne  butterfly that people know today. 

 The butterfly reminded me that I lost those who did  know me since childhood--- and I will miss them too. But they only knew " caterpillar and " chrysalis " Sarah--- I left Greater Pittsburgh as an extremely delicate , thin-skinned chrysalis. People I love who live 1000 miles from me -- good people whom I only see once per year { before COVID} did not witness the growth that my parents, my spouse, and Doc have witnessed over the past two decades. 

 I mourn Doc's death harder than I mourn others  I've lost recently because she saw my potential as a full person. She believed in me. She never led by force, but embodied that of a servant-leader & teacher. 

Thank you God, for butterflies that remind us of our Earthly journeys and the people who help us form into what YOU know we can be. 

In the Name of The Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer....

Amen. 

~Sarah McCarren

 

Two Weeks

 

                                      Random Photo of Christ Episcopal Church, Savannah, GA. Photo by The Pensacola Hippie. 

Two weeks tonight, I received a text that changed my world. From Lynne's phone { since I had her number in my contacts } that was her husband saying Lynne had been moved to a hospice care center here.  After my last " in person" visit with Lynne; this new came as no surprise but it still felt like a punch in the gut. 

 Tomorrow will be two weeks since Lynne died. She was surrounded by those nearest & dearest to her and for that I am grateful. 

 But tonight I just do not have any words. 

 Grief is a by-product of loving someone. 

 But that does not mean that the sting disappears on any sort of timeline. 

 Early grief is raw. Wounds are open and bleeding. Yes, eventually I'll need to " worry about caring for the living { someone I know actually SAID this to me -- thinking it would help.}  Sheesh-- its been only two weeks. I remind myself Lynne is gone every time I open my email  or phone and not see a message from her. 

 This is hard shit. And for the love of all that is good : only TWO WEEKS have passed since she died. 

 Platitudes suck. 

~Sarah McCarren

10/12/21

Creativity, Grief and Gratitude

                                     Unknown Artist's mural in Boone, NC. Photo by Brian. 

"Creative practices can also help you deepen your connection to that which is lost. Death doesn't end a relationship, it changes it." ~ Megan Devine _Its OK That You're NOT OK_._

I am a creative person. From the time I could hold a crayon, I wanted to draw and paint. From the time I read picture books, I wanted to tell stories. It is my theory that we humans are hard-wired for creating beauty--- for expressing ourselves via all the arts. 

  I believe that all humans have the ability to be creative--- it just manifests itself in different ways-- in all sorts of media. For instance, I would be a terrible jewelry maker-- I don't possess the eye-hand co-ordination to string small pieces together. As a result, I REALLY appreciate the efforts of those who make jewelry. 

  My friend, Lynne, was an artist. She spent her career around making music. She was an accomplished composer, performer, teacher , choir conductor, and accompanist . As a matter of fact, she composed the tune for the Alma Mater of The University Of West Florida. 

 She also played the piano and organ at our wedding. 

 I am a writer, painter and photographer. To tell the truth, these articles I write of my journey with grief over Lynne's  death are a way that I can process the loss at this stage.. She appreciated the photos I would email to her from various adventures in my life-- especially the Nature photos from my hikes around the Greater Pensacola area and other places. 

  In our emails Lynne and I shared snippets-- short stories of our lives. Sometimes a conversation thread would be short--- other times it would be so long we would agree to start a new conversation thread because the one we were too ponderous. 

 I miss starting emails with " Dear Doc" after so many years of daily communication. As the child of a teacher, Lynne always corrected any { rare} grammatical or punctuational errors in my notes to her! 

 But Lynne's no longer being " here" does not mean that she and I cannot communicate. I have not picked up my colored pencils or paints since she died, but I am hoping that -- when I am at work on a project--- I'll feel her presence with me--- just differently. 

 Lynne was a perfectionist when it came to her art-- and I've learned much about perfecting my work from her example. She also was very much an individual: She played the piano like no other person I've known. Her playing style was inexplicable-- at least to me-- but I knew it when I heard it. 

  During the Pandemic, I renewed my hobby of acrylic painting and in time, found my own artistic " style". 

  Honestly, one of the best parts about sharing an over 20 year friendship with Lynne is she helped me began to accept, then like, and finally love the woman whom God created as Sarah McCarren. Creative people understand each other, and I am so grateful that God put Lynne in my path. 

  She encouraged me to be bold-- both with the artistic endeavors and in life. 

  Tonight, I give thanks for all  artists--- especially Lynne. 

Bless the creators, O God of creation,
who by their gifts make the world
a more joyful and beautiful realm.
Through their labors
they teach us to see more clearly
the truth around us.
In their inspiration
they call forth wonder and awe
in our own living.
In their hope and vision
they remind us
that life is holy.
Bless all who create in your image,
O God of creation.
Pour your Spirit upon them
that their hearts may sing
and their works be fulfilling.
Amen.

~Sarah McCarren

10/11/21

 

Sarah's " Mourner's Self-Care Manifesto "

 Right now I am reading a book called _ Its OK That  You're NOT OK: Meeting Grief and Loss in a Culture that Doesn't Understand_  by Megan Devine. 

  The author has activities and writing prompts at the end of each chapter. One of them is to create a " Self Care Manifesto" and post it online , or somewhere where you will see it daily.  I am still in the early stages of grief after my friend's death and today was hard. Her obituary appeared again in the print version of the local paper. I requested a copy from my parents, who are among the few I know who still take the daily PAPER newspaper. As much as I needed that tangible item, it brought back the fact that she's really dead-- that I won't see her until its my time to enter The Next Life.

  Anyway let me begin 

  I SHALL...

Eat three meals a day--- and do my best to pack my body full of fresh fruits, veggies and yogurt{ aids in digestion. }

Write daily. Writing helps to " center " my brain and reminds me that there is much good in this crazy world. 

Spend as much time out-of-doors as possible. It is in Nature that I first encountered The Divine that eventually led to me becoming a Christian. I shall take time to use more than just my eyes and ears, to REALLY experience Nature in a tactile and olfactory way as well. 

Talk about  "Doc". I have over 20 years of stories and I am a verbal processor.  

Spend quality time with my spouse. 

Go to church, and spend some non-worship time with members of my faith community. 

 I SHALL NOT...

Force myself to engage in small talk. Silence is golden for me right now. 

Force myself to attend any social function if -- at the last hour-- I need time and space. 

If I attend a social function, I reserve the right to be quiet or to step away from the group for a few minutes. 

Engage in other people's drama. Life is way too damn short for that nonsense. { and this also includes social media drama. } 

Feel guilty for eating ice cream for a meal. Healthy food is my main goal, but sometimes, all a woman needs is ice cream. 

Until Doc's funeral I will be intentional about these practices. Grief over losing a loved one is natural, and deserves to heal naturally. Please don't tell me to " get over it" as Doc was more than my college choir conductor. She was my friend.. and a damn good one. 

My early grief is real, and deserves some boundaries. 

Thanks for understanding. I love y'all . 

~Sarah McCarren

Love is a By-Product of Grief

                                    Three yellow roses { symbol of friendship} on my altar Photo by The Pensacola Hippie 

'Love with open hands, with an open heart, knowing what is given to you will die. .It will change. Love anyway. You will witness incredible pain in this life. Love anyway. Find a way to live here, beside that knowledge. Include that knowledge. Love through that."

~Megan Devine _Its OK That You're Not Ok_ Managing Grief in a Culture that Doesn't Understand_

Yesterday the online version of the city newspaper had my friend's obituary published. I opened my Facebook account to see that her family had posted the obituary online.

Doc has been dead for over a week and my emotional wounds are still raw. Of course I cannot sit buried in my weighted blanket in my chair until the worst of this early stage of grief passes: I must carry on.

But well-meaning people who try to comfort me say things such as " Time to concentrate on the living" Newsflash: NOT HELPFUL to someone who just read the public obituary of a dear friend / mentor to whom I owe a debt of gratitude. Doc was with me during my time spent in the mental health ward of the hospital after a drinking incident. She loved me so much that she was REALLY angry with the choices that led me to that hospital ward.

" Sarah. please get help. I don't want to attend your funeral, " she said as she held my hands. Her voice was steady , but tears glistened in the corners of her eyes.

Thanks to my college choir director,, I started on the journey of figuring out what combination of brain medicine helps me function like a semi-normal human being.

Doc, almost twenty years to the week I will be going to your funeral.

Honestly, it sucks. Anticipatory grief sucked, but post-death grief REALLY sucks.

I've lost four people in the last year and a half { none, by the way to COVID} I lost a church friend , my grandmother, and my father's life-long best friend to cancer. I lost you to another long , debilitating illness. As much as I treasure the memories of George, Beni & even my Grandma, none of these people really got to see me grow up. The Sarah that they recall is not the person I am today-- and YOU-- Doc-- had a lot to do with my development.

Of course there are other people who are still alive who also have shaped me, but no one in Pensacola { other than my parents & spouse} has seen me mature into the woman I am meant to be. I always knew you to respond to me from a place of love-- even when we had our differences. You are the first person I met who truly lives in that agape love-- a love that God has for all God's People. Reading others' tributes to you on Facebook have been both cathartic and sad for me: I'm so grateful that I told you how much you meant to me in a letter when you were still living.

I love you. And you knew that before you passed on to Heaven. But because I love you I am in a process of working through grief that will change me. Yet to love anyone-- no matter the nature of the relationship-- will lead to grief. Knowing that I grieve because your influence in my life was so long-lasting and significant gives me comfort.

By the way: Enjoy the yellow roses.

Love,

Sarah

                                    
 

Roses and " Thin Moments"

                                   Facebook is down, so I cannot share the lovely photo of the single yellow rose that I saw in my parents' backyard yesterday. 

   Sometimes, the " veil between the worlds" gets thinner. For many, it occurs at a certain place-- for others , the curtain separating the world of life from the world of The Other happens randomly. 

   For me, I caught a sign from someone I recently lost. I was sitting in my parents' living room watching football, when I decided to talk a quick break to stretch my legs. My eye quickly spotted a single yellow rose bloom-- all by itself --- the remainder of the bush lost its blooms weeks ago. Curious, I knelt by the flower and gently put my hand on it. as I touched the flower--- careful to not tear any of its petals, I sensed that my dear departed friend, Lynne, telling me that she is finally whole & well after her long, debilitating illness. As I contemplated the flower , I  sensed her showing me in a tangible way that there IS hope in our resurrection. 

  God, as human in Jesus, knows what it is like to mourn a beloved friend. The God that is Three-in-One has Lynne safely with Them. Her Earthly life is over, but she'll stay with those who are blessed to have known her until our time comes. 

  I went back inside the house quietly, an image in my mind of Lynne at the piano at school, carefully playing scales and warming up our choir for rehearsal. Sad yet somehow joy-full tears formed in the corners of my eyes as I recalled my beautiful { in body & more importantly soul } friend as I knew her at UWF. This is the version of herself that my friend wants me to remember-- and I know now that she expects me to carry on her legacy of Christian soul-friendship with others & service in Christ's Name. As my friend , mentor, and sister-in-Christ--- part of Lynne's legacy lives in me & in everyone else she taught or accompanied. 

  I am grateful for the " thin moments" in this life--- moments that seem that this visceral world and The Otherworld come close together. 

  That flower allowed me to have a moment with my recently-lost friend, and strengthened my resolve to live the second half of life in service to others and with a joyful heart. 

  Thank You--- Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer for all the small but powerful ways You Show Yourself in our daily lives. Thank You for the witness of the Yellow Rose: a symbol of friendship. 

Amen. 

~Sarah McCarren

Feast Of St Francis of Assis 2021 
 

For the Last Time, this Side of Heaven, " Dear Doc"

                                 Me at the Mile High Swinging Bridge in NC. Photo by Brian. 

My friend, Lynne, also known as " Doc" by her students-- went to her Heavenly home this week after a long illness. 

 I am grateful that she was able to be with her dearest ones during her last hours.  My heart is full of gratitude for over 20 years of sharing our lives--- mostly through email. It saddens me that I will never again begin an e-mail with " Dear Doc". Yet I am comforted that she's watching over me and all others with whom she shared her life. 

 For the last time.. this side of Heaven....

 Dear Doc: 

  Doc, you were by far the toughest, best choir conductor I knew. I loved how you pushed the entire choir to do our best work and to give us opportunities to grow musically. Lately I've found myself humming the tune to the UWF Alma Mater--- a tune that you had composed that will be some of your permanent legacy at the University. 

  I so enjoyed the two seasons of Gulf Coat Chorale music-making we shared. I remember you teasing me about being the biggest Beatles' fan  in the Chorale, in spite of being born in the mid-1970's. The _ John , Paul George & Satchmo_ concert was so much fun. 

 But you were more than a college choir conductor-- you also taught me about living a Christ-centered life. You were there during my darkest days at UWF, and I am grateful for you support and faith that I could get justice for myself & other women. I can help others in similar situations because you believed me & got me to understand that I am in control of my own body. 

More importantly, you also present for some of the joy-filled occasions of life: such a playing the organ at St Francis Episcopal Church, Gulf Breeze for my wedding. I know that the administrative assistant there misspelling of your first name annoyed you, but it was God's Providence that the regular organist at St Francis, Gulf Breeze { my church at the time} was away on vacation, because I always wanted you to play for a wedding that I told you years ago that would never happen. 

 You said: " Just wait: the right person will come along , and you'll know it." 

 Okay-- you were correct yet again ! 

Some of the advice from you that I still carry with me is this " When you are feeling sorry for yourself, do something for someone else. Fast"

 It's been rough as my anticipatory grief transformed to active grief upon hearing the news of your Homegoing, but I will promise to continue to live a servant's life-- aided by the wonderful people at St Christopher's Episcopal Church. I'm glad that we had some more one-one-one time together before the pandemic hit. More importantly, I am glad we got a chance for one last in-person visit together at your house. I know how much you like flowers & was blessed to be able to deliver some altar flowers from my church to your home. 

 Thank you for letting me into your world as well. Sharing your life stories with me have helped me grow in faith and make wiser choices in my life. Thank you for never judging me when I did make poor choices. I'm a bit wiser  and much more schooled in Who Jesus is than I was before we met at that first UWF Singers rehearsal. 

 Looking back, I now see that it was no " accident" that I needed a Fine Arts  Credit & did not want to take Art History. :) I love to sing as much as I dislike Art History. I'd rather make art {including Music} than study other people's art from centuries before I was born. 

I love you, Doc. And it is my prayer that the second half of my life will be a credit to all I've learned from you. I miss you, but know you are healthy & whole now & that we'll eventually see each other again. 

Love

Sarah