In Praise of Men: Part X

Dear Men in My Life,

Not only am I thankful for you, but I'm praying for you too.

At Mass today when the priest elevated the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus to our Heavenly Father, I lifted each of you up too.

And I asked our God to fill you with His Holy Spirit that you may be filled with His Love and able to be fathers and husbands and brothers and sons, employees and students and citizens and friends in His image, spreading His Love all throughout our waiting world.  Amen!

The Answer to Prayer.^c

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“And I tell you, ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.^d

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For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.

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What father among you would hand his son a snake when he asks for a fish?

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Or hand him a scorpion when he asks for an egg?

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If you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?" 

[The Gospel of Luke:NAB]

In Praise of Men: Part IX

If there is one thing more In Praise of Men that I would like to add, it is this:

Today I was attending a funeral for a friend of mine and as I was standing in the foyer, I struck up a conversation with a man who was standing alone there too.  He had a name badge on because he worked for the funeral home and was handling the arrangements for my friend's funeral and burial.  As we talked a little while, he offered that he is eighty years old now and having recently reconnected with a friend from the past, is looking forward to his own death hopefully very soon.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this, " he began and then added, "I had a dream about six months ago in which I felt I had died.  And such an overwhelming sense of peace came over me."

"I lost my own father to death at the age of 50, " I replied, "and now that I am at the age of 52, I have lived longer myself than I had ever planned."

"You're still young," he assured me, "and as you get older, aging won't be so hard.  It will all be okay, you'll see.  And then one day you'll be ready to die.  There is nothing to fear."

Tears lept to my eyes as I said, "While I surely believe that you may be ready to die, it is your family who will suffer and miss you after you are gone."

Then his eyes became red as they brimmed with tears too, and he said, "My father's death was the hardest thing I've faced in my life.  I keep his photograph on my fireplace mantle.  One day I looked at the picture inside the frame and I realized that I was looking at me.  I have become my father!"

And we laughed and we cried as we delighted in this special moment that had passed between us.

And so that is another reason why I wanted to write this blog posting "In Praise of Men", because not only are you irreplaceable and awesome and wonderful to be around, but you also live on in those you have loved.  And I count myself blessed to be among them.

Thank you, Men in My Life.

You mean the world to me just by being you.

(What, are you crazy???  Don't let Micaela fall!  Sheesh.

Good thing there is such a thing as GIRL POWER too!)

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

In Praise of Men: Part VIII

And so I don't know if there is another story in me now, but after getting home and lying immobile for a few days, I am back in business once more.   And I began my morning by going to daily Mass today and greeting my friends who were gathered there too.

"Boy there sure are some great people living in our neighborhood!" my old friend Jim called out as we walked toward the church door.

"There are?" I responded.  And asked him about where these great people were.

"You know!  In your area and in mine," he obtusely clarified as I still looked confused.

"I mean you and me!  We are the great people" he laughed as I suddenly understood.

"You don't have a selfish bone in your body!" He replied.  "You had no idea I was talking about me and you."

I grinned then, feeling less selfless than slow on the uptake, but enjoyed his friendly greeting none the less.

Then we entered the chapel and sat in our respective "usual" chairs and greeted Eddie and our other friends gathered there.

Walking back out to our cars after Mass was over, I stopped to talk to two women by our cars.

Then Eddie walked past, having said, "Hello Gorgeous!" not a half hour before, he now said, "It's a hen party, you old hens!"

And when we balked he replied, "Well, I could have called you Old Nags, so be glad."

Yes, this blog is in praise of men.  For all the ways they brighten my days, for the kind and thoughtful things they do, for the fun they are, for the helping hands they are always stretching out, for the joy they bring to my life.

Yes, Jim W, Barry T, Connor W, Charlie D, Charlie W, Bill W, Jimmy T, Tom F, Danny F, Rich M, Brother Jim M, Ron G, Larry G, Steve M, Micaela's friend Vinnie, Brian, Jim S, Eddie S Ron B, Anthony H, Ray G, Doug C, and so so so many more...

Thank you!  You are awesome and I just want to let you know.

In Praise of Men: Part VII

"When will this story ever be ended?" you are possibly wondering now, as I am too!   Well, I'm not too sure, but will just keep on going now, and so...

As I drifted into the beachhead at my campsite, Ron was already on his way over to help me pull ashore.  "Back so soon?" he asked.

And I told him that I had hurt my back and needed his help to get back up the hill with my kayak before lying down and assessing my situation and figuring out what next to do.

So we got the boat back onto the top of my car and I found my phone and made a few calls.  Rousing my son from his summer vacation slumber,  I asked him and he agreed to come out to the lake, pack my stuff up, hitch the camper to the car, and help me drive out of there once and for all.

And then he did.

My son is awesome.  And what better way to celebrate, than with a little Vanilla Chocolate Chip Concrete from Goodberry's in Cary.  Mmmmmm.  Now that makes it almost worth all the trouble!!

In Praise of Men: Part VI

Well, there's a little more to this story that I still want to tell.  And so after our dinner in the tiny little camper in the pouring down rain, I asked Ron to help me load my kayak back on my car the next day after my last morning paddle.

He readily agreed and so I set out on lake after breakfast the next day.  It felt so good to push off from the shore and dig my paddles into the water as I scooped out each stroke.

"Stroke! Stroke! Stroke!" then "Weigh Enough!" rang out in my memory as I recalled sitting in a shell on University Lake in the predawn hours with the other members of my rowing team at UNC Chapel Hill.   These past few days of paddling my plastic kayak had woken up something in me that made me feel powerful and strong and free as I glided across the lake, keeping watch for large birds along the shore.

And so I quickly slipped out of sight and paddled around the bend into the open water of Jordan Lake when I suddenly felt something go "pop!" in my back.  As a wave of pain washed over me, I realized that I had ruptured the weakened disc in my spine and as my back grew ever tenser I thought about what I might do.

I could either coast into the closest shore, but then would have to walk back along the campground roads for who knows how long, else I could turn around and try to return to the place where I had put in.  And as the pain began to lessen, I turned my boat around, paddling lightly, and maneuvered us both carefully back to shore.

 And boy was I glad to see the shore!

 (See my little place back there in the woods?!)

In Praise of Men: Part V

Now these weren't just any two men who were coming to dinner, I thought, as it really opened up and began to pour.  They were the "West Virginia Boys!" who had taken me out fishing on their pontoon boat a few times in the past year.

They had been so nice to me and I wanted to return their hospitality in some small way.  And so I gathered up the wet dishes and napkins at my picnic table as night began to fall. I tidied up things as quickly as I could when in the pouring rain there was someone outside and knocking at my little door.  

"Would you like to come over to our place instead?" Ron asked with his raincoat pulled over his head.

"No, I've already got things set up for us here.  What do you think?" I asked, pushing the door open and stepping aside.

"Oh, that's fine," Ron replied as he looked at the tiny table nestled under the slanting ceiling, all set with placemats and dishes and not much more, because not much more would possibly fit.

 "I'll go get my brother and the chicken and we'll be right back."

And so come back they did, and we crowded into my little camper and with the door still ajar, sat around my tiny table, and not knowing whether the whole camper would tip on its side due to the strain, settled in for a nice meal in the tiniest little restaurant in town. 

In Praise of Men: Part IV

Well, wouldn't you know, but Ron was able to come a few days early and as he pulled into the campground after a 7 hour drive, the folks next to me were pulling away, and so he quickly grabbed their ideal site perched high above the water and asked his brother to drive in with his RV and pontoon boat, if he could, the next day.  

And so the next afternoon they set up their portable lake home and its surrounds, including a large screened room to enclose their picnic table, a charcoal grill, a pancake griddle, refrigerators, fishing coolers, chairs, and who knows what more!  They have this "camping thing" down and have turned what could be a hardship for some into their palace for the next eleven days. 

We decided to have dinner together that night to celebrate their arrival and my departure the next day.  They grilled chicken breasts and made a baked bean dish with a special recipe while I set the picnic table at my campsite with napkins and plates and put the potatoes and green beans on my stove to boil.  

It was hot and humid while I was cooking and so I walked down the trail to the water's edge to try to take in the breeze.  That's when I saw great dark clouds closing in over the water and as I prayed them away, I ran back up to my site while large wet drops of rain began to fall.

Splish. Splash. Splot.   

And I thought, "Oh no!"

In Praise of Men: Part III

And so after visiting with Micaela's family on the breezy waterfront side of the park, I decided that rather than going home on Monday, I would drive around the lake and try to find a campsite of my own by the water's edge and stay for a few more days.

And so on Memorial Day Monday, I drove past hundreds of cars lined up and waiting to exit the parks after a long weekend at play.  I was fortunate though, and zipped right into the park and past all of them as I found one remaining site on the water at a "No Reservations Required" camping loop at Poplar Point Park off Highway 64. 

 

On my way in the ranger told me that the park was completely filled over the weekend, with people camping at all 650 sites.  It was emptying out at last, though, and so I slipped in and set up my camper once again, unloaded my kayak from the top of my car, and paddled out onto the lake, soaking up the gorgeous view.

And before it got too dark, I emailed my friend Ron, who was due to arrive at Jordan Lake in a few days with his brother, and I offered them my awesome campsite to enjoy on Thursday when I would be on my way back home at last.

In Praise of Men: Part II

So where was I?  Oh yeah, there I was, at Vista Point group campground, squeezed in tightly between two large RV's.  

After I got my 12 foot "rig" plugged in and leveled, I went off to meet the others from the group I was joining.  I had hopes of making new friends and since this group camps around the state for long weekends most months of the year, I hoped to find some camping buddies too. 

Just two sites down, there was a tiny travel trailer that in my opinion definitely won the "cuteness" award, with its retro design and little picket fence to contain her dogs.

And so for the rest of the afternoon and all of the following day I met new folks, shared an elegant potluck dinner, hiked, paddled, sat around a campfire, and sized up the group.

By Saturday night I had had enough and was ready to pack up and head home early Sunday morning to make it home in time for Mass. So I approached the friendly family camping behind me and asked the father to help me lift my kayak back up on top of my car, explaining that I was going to make a quick getaway in the morning.  Just as we were setting the boat down on my roof, out came the family from the RV next door. 

First I saw the man whom I had met as I entered the park the day before...the one who had arranged for the pig cooker.  He was followed by his wife who looked awfully familiar.  And then behind them was none other than my daughter's good friend from high school who had spent the night at our house many times over the years.

It was Micaela and her family and I was overjoyed by the amazing coincidence that here we were, right next door to each other...in the same park on the same weekend albeit with different groups ....and even though I had been feeling a bit uncomfortable and alone in this big campground, here we were together...we were THIS CLOSE:

After a round of laughs and hugs, the man holding the other end of my kayak said he was at the park with this family too and they all invited me to stay another day to join them for a swim and a meal where they were celebrating Memorial Day weekend with their church family.

And feeling so relieved and so happy, I did.

In Praise of Men: Part I

Last week I really did it...

Innocently enough, I agreed to go with a friend on a group camping trip at nearby Jordan Lake over Memorial Day weekend.  She would be making day visits for the gathering and I would bring my camper and stay overnight for three days on my own.

Sounded easy enough.

So I packed up my camper and my husband helped me load my kayak on top of my car.  Then I drove the ten miles down the highway to Vista Point campground at Jordan lake.  At the gate, I met a man who was driving out, on his way to pick up a pig cooker for his group's outing.  He was hurried but nice and I told him that I would like to come by later to see how they cooked the pig. And then I checked in with the attendant and headed down the road to the grassy field dotted with 100 water spigots and outlet posts set in rows about 10 feet apart from each other and I surveyed the area.

Two women from the group I was meeting called out my name and welcomed me and then I selected a narrow site squeezed between two huge RV's that seemed to offer a little afternoon shade.  The man organizing our group's outing came over to me then and advised me to turn my wheel this way and that until finally my little camper was settled into a level area in my targeted zone.


Before I could even snap the walls and roof in place, another man hustled over to ask whether his motorcycle might be able to pull a little camper like mine.  I said I thought that it would as I brushed past him to pull out my heavy wooden Marian Shrine and hang it above the door.

"Woah!  Do you want some help with that?  I'm a carpenter and can help you get it level," he offered as I stood on my tip toes in the doorway of my camper and with my arms stretched out straight above my head, hoisted it above the door.

"Tip it a little to the left.  Now to the right" he advised as I made the final adjustments and regarded my work with satisfaction.

Stepping away too, he laughed and exclaimed, "It takes all kinds!"  And he quickly put distance between himself and me as he disappeared into the sea of camping rigs.