grief and loss

Tree Work

/ nagneberg48 / 16 Comments

June 6, 2024

Turning to the day
and to each other
        We open ourselves to the day
        and each other.

This is the day that the Lord Has made
and a day we'll have to make our way through.
                 from Being Here, Prayers for Curiosity, Justice and Love by Padraig O Tuama

What a sad week for our block. We lost fourteen friends earlier this week. Diseased ash trees marked for destruction.

I took a memorial Monday morning, saying goodbye to the tress marked with a green end of life ring. I thanked them for their gifts of beauty and shade and shelter for birds and squirrels. To those allowed to live, I encouraged them to continue growing and to stay well. I thanked them for their ongoing presence.

We have been told that trees communicate with each other, and I wonder what their last conversations were. Did they say goodby to each other? How did they recognize and honor one another?

Before arriving home from my walk the trucks and workers had arrived, and the signs blocking sidewalks and streets were in place.

I defied the warning of danger and walked the last block home, instead of the alley. A couple neighbors stood on their steps as the action began, and I greeted them, “It’s a sad day.” “How different it will be,” one replied.

I was drawn to the snug, the room at the front of the house, feeling a need to be a witness to the lives that were ending. I moved my laptop from the garret to the desk in the snug, even though I knew the noise would be disruptive. That felt like the least I could do.

The noise began and as each tree lost its life, I heard a kind of death rattle. The men in their yellow vests did their jobs. Expertly, respectfully, but even though I know trees have life spans, too, and are subject to disease, this felt like a failure. And now those of us left will need to adjust to a new reality. That includes the birds and the squirrels. Some may lose their nests, even, but at the very least a playground, their perch and window on the world.

As Padraig O Tuoma says in his prayer, “This is the day that the Lord has made and a day we’ll have to make our way through.

Writing a Collect

In Being Here, O Tuoma’s new book of prayers, he includes a collect for each of the 31 days of meditations. A collect, pronounced with the emphasis on the first syllable, COLLect, is a form of “collecting something; namely your intention and desire, your reflection and attention, your gratitude, and your need for containment.” O Tuoma explains that the collect has five folds:

  1. Name the one you’re praying to
  2. Unfold the name of the one you’re praying to
  3. Name one desire
  4. Unfold the desire you’ve names
  5. Finish with a bird of praise

Bird of praise? Well, O Tuoma, doesn’t really know either, but says why not? Most collects I’ve read end simply with an Amen.

He simplifies the form even more:

  • Address
  • Say more
  • Ask one thing
  • Say more
  • End

Here is an example of a collect from Being Here:

Grandmothers of Jesus,
In your stories we hear of your
courage and creativity,
your tenacity,
and the things you faced down.
Here, today, we stand in the time after you
and look back,
with gratitude for stories like yours
that help us live today.
Help us live today
in all the stories of our lives
so that we can stand in your great
ache and wash.
Amen.

It occurs to me to write a collect, addressing the trees on our block, as a way to mark the day. Collects most often address God, by the way, but that is not always the case. In fact, Sunday I wrote a collect to my calendar and list for the week, giving thanks for the ways they remind me to be in the world, to use my gifts and energy, and to remember to pause. Here’s my collect for the trees:

Oh dear trees, sacred trees
Signs of God's love for all creation.
Reminders of the genius and beauty 
of diversity, of transformation, of the need 
for both grounding and stretching.
You have graced us with your presence, 
given shelter and protection,
inspired us 
as teachers, revealers, companions.
May our lives, even as we mourn your loss,
be signs of God's divinity on earth.
May we nurture new growth
both within our hearts
and along the avenues of our lives.
Amen.

An Invitation

Has there ever been a special tree in your life? I would love to know.

New Year’s Reflections

/ nagneberg48 / 6 Comments

January 2, 2024

At the beginning of each new year, I read my journals from the year just past. What were the highlights? The gifts? How well were intentions met or were they discarded? What themes evolved during the year? And what losses were encountered along the way?

At the beginning of 2023, I was trying to shed a lingering cold, not COVID, but a cold that zapped energy and enthusiasm. I was also feeling deeply the loss of a dear friend who had died at the beginning of December. On that first day in January, 2023, I remembered how we entered 2020 totally oblivious to the pandemic about to strike our lives, and I wrote, “What losses will this year bring, for there will be some. How close to my heart will they be? How major will they be in the way I live my life? Or will I be the loss?”

Typically, I’ve entered the new year with energy for new beginnings, new projects, and eagerness to meet new or continued goals, but in recent years I’ve learned to hold expectations more lightly. Perhaps I am learning how to hold life more lightly, too. And more gratefully.

What does this have to do with the photograph of the tree on our boulevard? Well, one morning right after Christmas, I settled into the snug for morning devotions and when daylight appeared I was stunned to see the trunk of this tree and 13 others on our block wrapped in bright green rings. Soon these diseased trees will be removed. The grief has begun.

I think I am grateful, or at least I am trying to be, that we will lose these trees during the bareness of winter. Perhaps the absence of these trees during the non-leafy, non-green months will help us accept the starkness, the lack of branches arching over the street and the sidewalk. I don’t know when the tree removal people will set to work on our block, but I’m trying to use this time to prepare my heart and soul for this loss–as well as other losses, known and unknown, to come.

How do I prepare?

My day begins in stillness, in silence. These winter days it begins in the dark, as I watch the light begin to make its appearance. I whisper my first prayers of the day. “Thank you for the rest of the night. Thank you for the promise of a new day. Thank you for your presence. May I be aware of your presence in all I do and all I am. May my loved ones be aware of your presence. May all who know the losses that life brings know your presence.”

I read the day’s selection from books I have chosen to accompany the year’s pilgrimage. This year I have chosen Daily Readings with Margaret Silf, along with a book I have read before, Fragments of Your Ancient Name, 365 Glimpses of the Divine for Daily Meditation by Joyce Rupp.

A new year and another mile of the journey. Three hundred and sixty-five new chances to watch the sun rise on God’s surprises along the way. Three hundred and sixty-five windows of opportunity through which to glimpse the face of God in the rock face of everyday life.

Margaret Silf, p. 3

Your intimate presence startles my soul…

I ask for the simplest of gifts from you…

The blessing of communicating with you.

Joyce Rupp, January 1

Even as I grieve losses of the past, as well as losses tender and new, and feel the flicker of losses yet to be, the amaryllis in the snug reminds me we are each living and dying at the same time. And we are each beloved.

May this new year bring you many blessings. Happy New Year!

An Invitation

What are you bringing into the new year? I would love to know.

Post-Thanksgiving/Pre-Advent: I’m Ready!

/ nagneberg48 / 9 Comments

November 28, 2023

I’m ready! That doesn’t mean I’m ready for Christmas to arrive. The wreath may be on the door, but that is a false illusion of readiness.

Nope, I’m ready for the time of preparation. I’m ready for the arrival of Advent.

I’m ready to get ready.

Advent Meditations

Over the years I’ve acquired many Advent devotional books and sometimes I have subscribed to online Advent retreats and daily devotions. Deciding which books and offerings will be my focus is a kind of meditation in itself. This year the winners are:

  • Haphazard by Starlight, A Poem a Day from Advent to Epiphany by Janet Morley. A friend gave me this book last year writing “Words to accompany you through the dark days into the light.” Many days during last year’s Advent were too dark for me to focus on this book. After a dear friend died on December 1, I spent much of my morning meditation time sitting quietly in the darkness, allowing myself to feel the fullness of that loss. At the same time I had a crummy cold most of Advent, which limited what I did. This year this book welcomes me. In her introduction Morley writes:

Poetry yields its multi-layered meanings only when the reader pays attention, and spends time reflecting on what may be a very few words. Intuition and a certain humility are needed along with a willingness to notice properly the detailed world the poem illuminates, and perhaps to be personally transformed by the resulting insights. As readers we have to bring some deep parts of ourselves into the process of interpretation; we have to surrender to the poem. At the same time, a poem doesn’t browbeat the reader: it intrigues, challenges and delights.

p. xii
  • Lighted Windows, An Advent Calendar for a World In Waiting by Margaret Silf. This month I’ve been slowly re-reading one of Silf’s other books, Wayfaring, A Gospel Journey into Life, and once again I have loved how Silf encourages an imaginative reading of Gospel stories. Who am I in the text? What does the text offer me in my life? Today. Now. Through her guidance, I always discover something new. I know this book will bring me new light:

The seasons of Advent and Christmas remind us that now is the time and ours is the place in which God is labouring to come to birth.

May your own Advent journey, and your life’s journey, be guided by unexpected lights along the roads that refuse to be extinguished. May it be accompanied by melodies celebrating that which has not yet arrived. And may we ourselves become bearer of a Spirit-kindled light in a world that longs, like never before, for hope and trust and a reason to believe in the best that humanity can become.

p. 7

Once again, as I have done for several years, I will shuffle the deck of cards created by Tracy Mooty, Janet Hagberg and Ali Boone, “Advent Perspectives, Companions for the Journey.” I will close my eyes as one hand hovers over the cards finally landing on the character from the Nativity story who is to be my companion for the season. Mary was my companion last year and also in 2018. Who will it be this year? Stay tuned. I will let you know.

I am ready for my morning Advent meditation time.

Advent Remembrance

The day after Carolyn died I wrote in my journal:

Her friendship at this stage of my life was one of those unexpected surprises–like sometimes you open the front door to get the mail or sweep the steps, and there is an Amazon box there. You hadn’t ordered anything, but there it is. A friend had sent you a book, perhaps. One she knew you would love. Well, in her infinite generosity, God sent me Carolyn.

Bruce said yesterday that he feels empty. I don’t feel that. Actually, I feel quite full–not in the sense of being overwhelmed, but more in the sense of feeling gratitude for her presence in my life. One more example of enduring love and friendship and what it means to live fully, passionately, openly. But oh, I will miss her.

December 2, 2022

I am ready to sit quietly and ponder in my heart the ongoing gifts of Carolyn’s friendship in my life.

Advent Transformations

Our home is my easel, and each season is a source and setting for creativity.

At the end of the week I will remove all evidence of fall.

This Advent and Christmas some things will stay the same as they have in past years.

(2022)

But who knows where others will land.

(2022)

I am ready for the Christmas bins to come out of the storage room and to create this year’s setting for these precious days of Advent and Christmas. I’ll let you know what happens.

I am ready to get ready.

An Invitation

What are you ready for? I would love to know.

How to Mourn?

/ nagneberg48 / 8 Comments

May 31, 2022

Part One

I tried to write in my journal, but nothing.

I have grieved the loss of parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles.

I have grieved the loss of friends who died far too young and hospice patients with whom I sat at the end of their lives.

I have grieved the impending loss of others who are facing serious health concerns.

I have grieved the loss of so many in our country killed unjustly. Murdered.

I have grieved roads not taken.

I have grieved unwelcome changes.

Grief is not an unknown in my life, and I know it is not unfamiliar to you, either.

But this…

Years ago in a class on spiritual practices I taught, the participants made their own string of prayer beads. I have used mine occasionally since then, but not regularly. Now seemed like the right time.

Sitting in silence, I fingered the beads; each one a symbol for one of the children slaughtered and their beloved teachers. My string of beads were not long enough and I returned to the beginning again and again, holding the loss of all those who loved them. I wish I could say I felt calmer as my fingers moved from bead to bead, but that was not the case. Instead, I felt the pain more deeply.

I think I am to feel that pain sear through my body, for only then can change begin to take shape.

I don’t know what kind of action that means for me, other than making donations to worthwhile organizations, but in the meantime I sit with the beads; the beads that leave an impression on my fingertips.

Part Two

I gave the weekly writing group I facilitate at church the following prompt:

Write what is on your heart. Write your tears, your rage, your fears. Write what is at the bottom of your heart, and write what is touching your heart. Write your prayers. Write your lament. Write as a mother. Write.

During the sharing/listening time, one of the participants, who gave me permission to share the following, said her adult daughter had asked her, “What did you worry about when we were growing up?” She admitted she had to think about her answer. She thought she had probably worried about her children getting good grades and using good manners and living with a love of God and family.

I am not a huge worrier, but I suspect I worried about our children doing well in school and having good friends and making good decisions about difficult choices.

Not once did I worry about our children being murdered at school. That never occurred to me.

Part Three

Does anyone else see the irony, the inconsistency with the NRA forbidding the presence of weapons at their convention in Texas this past weekend, but at the same time they think providing teachers with weapons in the classroom is the answer?

Part Four

Pray AND…

You decide what that means; what action you can perform. Begin with prayer and then…

An Invitation

So many wise and important words and reflections have been offered in recent days, and I am grateful for how they have helped me sit with what we have created and allowed to happen in this country. I wonder what has been meaningful to you these past days and now where the wisdom gained will lead you. I would love to know.

Thistle Talk on Difficult Days: Dealing with Grief and Loss

/ nagneberg48 / 4 Comments

May 24, 2022

First thing Monday morning my husband headed to church to confront the nasty thistles invading the gardens. This has been and continues to be an ongoing battle, and one that will not be won today or tomorrow, but I admire his determination and commitment.

Thistles appear in our lives in many ways, and lately, thistles seem to be conducting on assault.

Daily, it seems, I hear news of family and friends challenged by serious health or economic concerns or the death of a loved one. Sunday morning, even before I was dressed, my husband showed me a post on Facebook about someone in our extended family who is experiencing hard times. We discussed ways to respond, but at the same time we can not make the basic problem disappear.

That’s a big thistle.

Thistles are prickly. They sting and their roots are deep. They don’t give up easily the places they’ve claimed in the garden. They tend to take over everything that has been loving and intentionally planted, and sometimes it is hard to see the growth, other than the unwanted thistle.

No one chooses a thistle. No one says, “Do we have room in the garden for a thistle?” Nope, they assert themselves without our consent or design.

So what do we do with these thistles?

Here’s what I am learning as a woman in her mid seventies: I have to leave room in my day for grieving, for feeling loss and sadness and sometimes shock. That means being even more intentional about my morning meditation time, which more and more means holding those in my heart who need tender care.

But I also have to leave room in my day for responding to those with tangible needs. Sometimes that means an in-person response –a meal, a visit, an offer to….–or it may mean a more distanced response, writing a note, sending a check, making sure others who need to know do, in fact, know.

Dealing with thistles takes energy, and I sometimes feel the toll encountering so many thistles takes on my spirit. I know that being present to the pain of others means I must be aware of my own feelings and what I am able to do at this stage of my life.

Doris Grumbach in her memoir The Pleasure of Their Company (2000,) which she wrote as she approached her 80th birthday, used the term, “lessening.”

I prefer lessening as both instruction and slogan for my old age.

page 50.

What that suggests to me in my life is choosing carefully, thinking wisely about how I use my energy, for one thing I know for sure: There will be more thistles.

Now is a good and necessary time to ask myself how many commitments are reasonable? What is the call in my life now and how can I respond? How do I best live my essence in this third chapter of my life? How do I create spaciousness in my life to be with the expected unexpected?

Two Thoughts for Reflection

The times are urgent; let us slow down.

African Saying

May you embrace this day, not just as any old day, but as this day. Your day. Held in trust by you, in a singular place, called now.

Carrie Newcomer

May your thistles not overwhelm your garden.

An Invitation

How do you respond to your thistles? I would love to know?