Terrorism at the Boston Marathon: connections, reflections, evil and good

Note: I am keeping this post free of images. I want the words to tell the story.

The last five days have been utterly surreal.

As a lifelong resident of Massachusetts now living in the central part of the state, our family has roots that go back to the Governor Winthrop fleet in 1630 when Allan Bread (ne: Breed) came over. My mother, God rest her soul, was a direct descendant.

I grew up in Wellesley and still work there; it’s twenty-seven miles from Boston.

My sister and her husband recently sold their share of their business to their partner. It’s on Arsenal Street in Watertown, blocks from the headquarters for local and federal law enforcement during the siege that overtook that city over the last twenty-four plus hours.

My brother lived for many years on Homer Avenue which is off of Mount Auburn Street. Franklin Street is also off of Mount Auburn; this is where they found the younger Boston Marathon Bomber.

Both of my nephews ran in the Boston Marathon. According to his time, my younger nephew would have crossed the finish line just as the bombs went off.

Our office in Wellesley was closed yesterday. It’s right on the marathon route.

Surreal.

Marathon Day is very special to Bostonians and people from all around the world. Begun in 1897, the Boston Marathon is the premier race in the world. It’s used as a qualifier for the Olympics. It attracts the cream of the crop. Tens of thousands run this race, many as a means of raising funds for their favorite charity.

The Boston Marathon was the first to feature a wheelchair race. Women runners have distinguished themselves in the race officially since 1972 (and unofficially since 1966).

We celebrate in our office with popcorn and soft drinks, watching the endless wave of runners from the door and then cheering on the winners on TV.

Boston is my home. The Boston Marathon is a shining jewel of that home, celebrated on Patriot’s Day, the day freedom began to take hold in America.

Evil invaded my home, turning it into a war zone.

At first it was impossible to believe. Two bombs going off near the finish line. Three killed, so many maimed for life. An eight year-old boy was among the deaths. How could this happen?

An important international story was unfolding in my own backyard.

News junkie that I am, I was glued to the computer, watching all the local news stations simultaneously and following Twitter like an addict.

What the hell was happening?

On Thursday the story began to grow bizarre. The FBI, out of options, revealed to the world video tape footage and still photos of the two suspects. Suspect #1 in the black baseball cap. Suspect #2 in the white cap with the golf label. One picture showed Suspect #2 very near to Martin Richard, his sister and mother. Martin was killed in the blast.

Everyone held their breath. Either these two would slip away quietly or all hell would break loose.

I dropped off to sleep on Thursday night hearing something about a shooting at MIT. I dismissed it as unrelated and shut off the TV.

At 4 am my husband woke me up with an unbelievable story: the MIT shooting was, in fact, related. The two suspects shot and killed Sean Collier, a 26 year-old MIT police officer in cold blood. They car-jacked a Mercedes Benz SUV and ended up in Watertown where a furious gun battle ensued between them and police. I couldn’t believe my ears when my husband told me the suspects threw bombs and grenades out the window of the SUV at police.

Suspect #1 was killed. Suspect #2 backed over the man (his own brother) in the SUV and escaped, eventually leaving the car and running away on foot.

In Watertown? My own backyard? This was beginning to sound like Israel, Iraq, Afghanistan.

Again I glued myself to the TV, computer and iPhone following the events. My stomach tightened more with each hour. I tried to pray and could not except for an occasional “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on us!” I tried to sleep but could not. Home alone after the office had closed, I thought twice about leaving doors open on such a warm day and opted to keep them closed. I was safe in Central Massachusetts yet I did not feel safe at all.

Boston and surrounding cities and towns (Belmont, Brookline, Newton, Allston-Brighton, Waltham, Cambridge) totally shut down. No public transportation. No taxis for a time. No commuter rail running past the back of my house for the whole day. Businesses were closed. The streets were utterly deserted as people, urged by Governor Deval Patrick and Major Thomas Menino hunkered down in their homes with the doors locked.

The police were searching for more undetonated bombs.

Watertown became a war zone. Federal, state and local law officials descended upon the quiet city in unprecedented numbers. Many of the vehicles brought in resembled tanks. Never had I seen such a show of force.

Despite my morbid curiosity, I felt full to overflowing and had to shut it off for a time. I was amazed how tired I was from the stress even though I was just an observer. Yet sleep would not come. The knots in my stomach continued to tighten. The fiery pain from a small patch of shingles that had been diagnosed on my back expanded around my abdomen. My mind was calm but my body acted out otherwise.

Again I tried to pray and could not. I was grateful that there were so many others around the world who could pray for all of us. I thought of those brave police officers.

A press conference was held around 5:45 in the evening of that day. It seemed the police had failed to find the suspect and they lifted the “shelter-in” order; people could now leave their homes and move about.

That’s when all hell broke loose on 26 Franklin Street, Watertown.

A man, stepping outside into his yard to catch some fresh air, noticed that his large boat, still shrink wrapped for the winter, was disturbed. One of the ties was cut, deliberately. And there was a trace of blood. Grabbing a ladder, he climbed up, pulled back the shrink wrap and tarp and peered in. He saw a pool of blood and a crumbled body cowering in the boat.

How he was ever able to peer inside that boat I will never know. But his curiosity, and bravery, led to the arrest of Suspect #2.

It was not without a wild gun fight. People were quickly evacuated as police feared Suspect #2 might have bombs strapped to him. His older brother had on a suicide vest when he was killed and the bomb exploded. Somehow at this point I was able to pray and begged God to protect these brave men. After many tense minutes the police had their man. A cheer went up in the crowd.

It was over.

Grateful residents lined the streets, forming a gauntlet as law enforcement began to leave in their vehicles. Cheers, applause, the waving of flags, the pumping of fists. The brave police earned their due.

I thanked God for their safety. Too many had lost their lives or had their lives changed forever by the inexplicable harm brought on by Suspects #1 and 2.

I marveled at the bravery and tenacity of law enforcement officials who risked their lives to protect the public.

I reflected on the first responders who, immediately after the bombing, ran towards to the scene to help the victims. Many lives were saved by the bravery of those people.

I thought about the runners who continued running after crossing the finish line to area hospitals to give blood. So much blood was donated that the blood banks became full.

Citizens stood tall, frightened but unbowed by the terrorism that invaded their lives. Bostonians rose to the occasion. I felt proud of my heritage.

Mayor Menino has served five terms as mayor of Boston. With deep emotion he said that he was never more in love with his city than he was now.

I am too. My ancestors would be proud.

This story is far from over. There will be the continued investigation and endless questions. But for now I just want to take the time to remember all those who did so much to help the victims and protect the public.

Evil is a mystery that cannot be explained. It is a part of our broken world.

The mystery deepens when so much good arises from it. In the midst of ugliness and chaos, good continues to triumph. People find strength in themselves they never thought they had, allowing them to perform heroic acts for their neighbors.

I want to cling to that thought as this story continues.

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The thrill of birding: the game, the competition, the beauty and the art

My brother-in-law (the same one who gave me the Daktari DVDs) has lately been sending me spectacular images of birds from his friend Matthew Faughnan. I enjoyed these pictures so much that I wanted to share them with you (see below for gallery).

West Coast, East Coast

Since I am an East-Coaster, these birds from the West Coast are all new to me. It is particularly interesting to see the western counterparts of familiar birds such as the Blue Jay, Towhee and Goldfinch.

the big yearInspired by a movie

Matthew and his wife have only been birding since December of 2012 and have made remarkable progress. Their interest began after seeing the Steve Martin movie The Big Year about three men from different backgrounds who take a year off and travel together competing for the highest count of bird identifications. Equipped with binoculars and a bird guide, they began the fun of identification. The addition of a camera created something more. Check out the gallery at the end of this post.

Fun competition

As depicted in The Big Year, birding is indeed quite competitive, whether it’s against others or competing against yourself. It brings out the braggart in me, that’s for sure!  It’s a game and a thrilling one at that, with the bonus being that it is done in the most exquisite outdoor environment.

Spring migrations and fall outs

from onejackdawbirding.blogspot.com
from onejackdawbirding.blogspot.com

My sister now lives in Alabama and reported that the spring migration of warblers is passing through, soon to come northward. I live for the spring migration, something my mother was passionate about, passing it down to her children.

The dream of every birder is to experience a fall out and my first was last year right near my house (a fall out is when several species “fall out” of the sky and settle all in one place for several hours, a rare occurrence. In my fall out I saw 12 different species!).

Boston’s Grande Dame of birding

For two weeks in May I drop everything to go birding. Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, MA is a favorite place, a gorgeous haven in the city where the migrants gather among breathtaking flowers and exotic budding trees, nestled between historic grave sites.

640 mt auburn chapel 05-2011-1

640 willow pond mt auburn 05-2011-4

Visiting the cemetery on Mother’s Day was a treasured family tradition. Mount Auburn is crawling with birders, many of them experts and we’ve often tagged along behind them to listen to help us identify what we’re seeing. Now that my parents are gone and my sister has moved away, I hope to carry on the tradition in their memory. Always competitive, I prefer now to strike out on my own to see what I can identify.

West Coast birding

Matthew has been able to do what I cannot – capture stunning closeups of birds, transforming his hobby into art. Shows what a little passion will do. Enjoy!

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Dreaming of Africa as a child, and remembering the TV show “Daktari”

As you know I have a love for the outdoors, especially for birds. And I love cats. Back in the 1960s I had a favorite TV show that had me dreaming of living in Africa taking care of wild animals, especially the big cats. I idolized the lead female character, wishing I could live as she did with her father, having a lion, a chimp and all sort of other exotic animals as pets. She and her father cared for animals in the wild and taught appreciation and care for their environment.

The character was Paula Tracy, played by Cheryl Miller. Her father was known as “Daktari,” doctor in Swahili. The chimp was Judy and the lion, Clarence the Cross-Eyed Lion.

The show was Daktari and it aired from 1966 to 1969.

Recently the show has been released on DVD (Seasons 1 and 2). I received Season 1 as a Christmas gift from my brother-in-law and his wife and I was so happy to receive it. Their kindness in remembering my mention of the show prompted me to create a fan site (the only fan site) dedicated to the show.

Here’s some more about the site and if you remember loving Daktari in your childhood, I hope you’ll drop by for a visit and subscribe to the blog. I have much more to add to the site for your enjoyment. And be sure and leave comments on about the show!

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Welcome to the Daktari TV Show Fan Site!

This fan site is in honor of my favorite TV show as a child, Daktari.

It was inspired by a wonderfully thoughtful act, and a tremendously stupid one.

daktaritvshow.wordpress.com Daktari The Complete First SeasonThe thoughtful act? That comes from my brother-in-law, Tim Bailey, a director for The Simpsons, and his wife Jen. Tim is a serious collector of movie and TV memorabilia and actor autographs. I happened to mention that Daktari had been my favorite show and the DVDs for Season One were out. Guess what I got for Christmas from them? 🙂 I was very touched that they remembered. It was the best Christmas present in years!

Now I’ll confess the stupid act.

First, a little history.

daktaritvshow.wordpress.com cheryl miller paula tracy and judy the chimp2I collected pictures of Cheryl Miller (Paula Tracy) and had amassed a large collection of at least one hundred pictures, along with numerous articles from movie and TV magazines of the day. I was ten when Daktari first aired and wanted to be Paula, spending my days outdoors with animals, especially the big cats. I requested an allowance so I could send away to a company called Stephen Sally (which remarkably still exists!) for glossy photos of my fav. Looking for that familiar large brown envelope in our mailbox each week was a real thrill.

I had my pictures plastered all over the walls of my bedroom.  Eventually my parents gave me a large pink scrapbook (undoubtedly so I would clean off the walls!) and I kept my collection there for years, even into adulthood.

I was very proud of that collection.

Here I am at 11, dressing like Paula Tracy.
Here I am at 11, dressing like Paula Tracy.

The mistake?

I packed away my scrapbook in a box, not knowing that a package of old batteries was also inside. The battery acid leaked all over the book, destroying the binding and staining some of the pictures. Overwhelmed by the idea of transferring all the paraphernalia into a new book, I threw it out. Needless to say, that mistake still haunts me.

So I decided to rebuild my collection with this website.

There appears to be a renewed interest in Daktari now that Seasons One and Two are available on DVD and with that interest, a deluge of new pictures of Cheryl Miller has appeared on the web. I intend to collect them all and preserve them on this site for those of you out there who also love this series.

Daktari’s intrinsic value

I think Daktari has aged rather well considering the fact it is nearly fifty years old.

daktaritvshow.wordpress.com cheryl miller paula tracy treating a leopardRole model for girls

As a young girl growing up in the 1960s, Cheryl Miller (Paula Tracy) proved to be a great role model: beautiful, smart, passionate and resourceful with her interest in science and the environment trumping her interest in boyfriends, though I still wish she and Jack Dane (Yale Summers) had gotten together …

People of different races working together

DaktariDaktari was one of the first shows to offer an African American man in a leading role (Hari Rhodes as Mike Makula). In fact, the show offered many supporting and guest roles to African American actors. It was a wonderful example of the right kind of race relations, where people were judged on their character alone, just as Dr. Martin Luthor King would have wanted it.

Care for animals and the environment

Marshall Thompson‘s presence as “Daktari,” Dr. Marsh Tracy was very comforting. He genuinely cared about the welfare of animals and the people that shared the land with them, and had a lot of input into the stories.

daktaritvshow.wordpress.com daktari judy the chimp clarence the cross-eyed lionYes, it is a children’s show and yes, the stories are simplistic and the characters one dimensional. The animals (Clarence the Cross-Eyed Lion and Judy the Chimp) were the real stars. But the show is refreshingly clean and the gentle message of protecting wild animals and their environment was ahead of its time. The message got across loud and clear without preaching and without the extremism and politicizing that so taints that message today.

Why a Daktari Fan Site?

So, as a result of the release of Seasons One and Two of Daktari on DVD, plus the effort to rebuild my collection, and most importantly, in honor of my thoughtful brother-in-law and his wife who helped me remember the happy days of my childhood, this site has been created.

It is dedicated to you, all the fans of Daktari who have kept the flame lit over the past forty seven years. Enjoy the renaissance of this wonderful TV series!

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What is it about Pope Francis that causes me to weep?

Pope Francis, Jorge Mario Bergoglio http://www.state-journal.com/local%20news/2013/03/13/catholic-church-has-new-pope-white-smoke-rises
Pope Francis, Jorge Mario Bergoglio http://www.state-journal.com/local%20news/2013/03/13/catholic-church-has-new-pope-white-smoke-rises

“Habemus Papam! “We have a Pope!” Moments after the announcement an elderly man stepped forward, appearing a bit dazed and raising his hand in greeting. Far from a sweeping gesture to a large crowd, it was a simple “hello.” And his greeting to the crowd? “Good evening.”

His face broke into a smile as he addressed the hundreds of thousands before him. His voice was soft, gentle. Before giving the crowd his blessing (the Urbi et Orbi), he asked a favor: could they pray for him? Then he bowed low and the crowd grew silent. And as the scriptures say, the prayers rose up as incense before the Lord.

And I wept.

It would not be the last time that I would weep. I felt very drawn to this man and began looking for every opportunity to learn more about him. With each subsequent article, with each television appearance, I would weep.

I watched Sunday mass being celebrated on March 17 at St. Anne’s just outside the Vatican. Pope Francis looked like any parish priest, wearing simple Lenten robes. After mass, he stood outside and greeted each and every parishioner, often conversing with them. And I wept.

The most compelling image occurred as he arrived for the inaugural mass on March 19. Touring the overflowing crowds at St. Peter’s Square in the pope mobile, Pope Francis suddenly ordered the vehicle to stop. He stepped out and walked towards the crowd, to a disabled man. He kissed the man with such tenderness on the forehead and caressed him. The man’s caretaker beamed and the man broke into a glorious smile.

from www.cbsnews.com
from http://www.cbsnews.com

I saw Jesus in that instant, getting a sense of what it must have been like to have been in His presence when He tended the sick.

I wept again.

And each time I wept, my heart swelled with hope and a burning desire to change, to follow the example of Pope Francis.

In his imitation of Christ, Pope Francis points to Him. His invitation to us is gentle, loving and compelling. I watch him and find myself pondering, wondering how I also can imitate Christ.

Who around me is poor: in need of material goods, uplifting conversation, or just someone being totally present to them? Aren’t they often the people I see every day at work or school, in the marketplace and at home? Don’t I also see them on street corners, holding signs, asking for help?

In his homily to scores of priests at the Holy Thursday Chrism Mass in Rome, Pope Francis referred to the anointing that a priest receives at ordination.

He spoke of Psalm 133:

1 How very good and pleasant it is
when kindred live together in unity!

2 It is like the precious oil on the head,
running down upon the beard, on the beard of Aaron,
running down over the collar of his robes.

priests at holy thursday chrism mass with pope francis

The anointing received is like the oil on the head of Aaron: it doesn’t remain there merely to give off a sweet fragrance; it overflows, running down his robes.

We may not all be ordained priests but as Christians we are part of the royal priesthood as prescribed in I Peter 2:5; we too are anointed with oil at our baptism and our confirmation. It is not meant to be kept to ourselves as a faded memory. As he exhorted the priests at the Chrism Mass, Pope Francis is exhorting us to step outside of ourselves. The oil cannot help but run down the robes of Aaron, it cannot and must not be contained. It is the Oil of Gladness from the Lord. And we as baptized and confirmed children of God each have that oil, ready to share with those around us.

We too are shepherds of our own little flocks, all those people around us that God entrusts to us. Pope Francis called his priests, all of us, to take on the smell of our flock. And he shows us just how to do it: be like Jesus, be intimate, show love through your touch, your actions, your words. Every simple gesture done to anyone out of love for Jesus is sacred, holy and transformative.

His washing and kissing of the feet of the young people at the Casal del Marmo youth detention center on Holy Thursday is a clear example.

from www.npr.org
from http://www.npr.org

Pope Francis makes me weep. His example opens my heart and prompts me to change.

He is a true Vicar of Christ.

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Book review: Blessed, Beautiful and Bodacious by Pat Gohn – a new way to look at feminism

blessed beautiful and bodacious for webI write a monthly column for Catholicmom.com. This was my contribution for March. I have followed Pat Gohn’s career for several years from when she first made her appearance on the web with her outstanding podcast, Among Women. She is well-educated, well-spoken and a hard and patient worker who deserves her success with this book. I am proud to call her “friend.”

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Feminism has always presented a bit of a conundrum for this 50-something woman. That’s right: the one who grew up during the heyday of the women’s liberation movement. The one who now immerses herself in 19th century feminist history with her passion for Louisa May Alcott. While I was too young to have a bra to burn, I remember hearing about it on TV. It was a symbol of women’s empowerment. Feminism meant we could control our bodies and bust through the glass ceiling. No longer dependent on men, we could actually compete with them. We could make our own mark in the world.

Yet, I recall in the 1980s feeling left out as a young mother, madly juggling home life with work life. I worked because we needed the money but I desperately wanted to stay home and just think about one thing – my children. Sometimes while vacuuming I’d watch morning talk shows and bristle at the subtle condescension I’d hear about stay-at-home mothers while women working outside the home were lauded as heroes.

Seems to me I was working pretty hard and I felt like I was missing out on something.

I wish I had first hand knowledge of what life was like before women’s liberation. I have to depend on reading to figure that out. My knowledge of Louisa May Alcott (among other things, she worked for women’s suffrage as did her mother) have given me much to ponder about the life of women in the 19th century, their limited choices, little opportunity for education and total lack of voice.

It was only less than one hundred years ago that women got the vote in the United States (1920 to be exact) so I get it why feminists are so passionate, even militant, about women’s rights. I get it that women had no autonomy, no control over their lives or their bodies.

What I don’t get is the utter denial of what makes a woman unique – her role as a bearer of life and the primary caretaker (and influence) of the future generation. If the acquisition of power is the goal, can one wield more power than this? It is power however born of sacrificial love, a love that requires surrender, something that modern day feminism cannot reconcile nor embrace.

Pat-Gohn-with-MicPat Gohn, writer, speaker and host of the popular SQPN podcast, “Among Women” presents in her debut book, Blessed, Beautiful and Bodacious: Celebrating the Gift of Catholic Womanhood a new brand of feminism based upon the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary and writings by John Paul II where he coined the phrase “feminine genius.” In her brand of feminism, there is no holding back:

“The most excellent women, the bodacious women, are women who authentically live their dignity and gifts. They don’t keep beauty and blessing to themselves. They lovingly lavish it upon others … their ability to stretch and serve sends positive ripple effects into the world.”

This is about power but not the power of domination over men. It’s the power to be fully female. And that power is drawn from within, from the Source that created women in the first place.

Pat also grew up during the women’s liberation movement. She was ambitious, wanting to make her mark in the world:

“I was schooled in the cultural cliché that told women that you are what you do. My generation was among the first expected to compete with men – not rely on them or trust them … There was so much to achieve and I was an eager achiever.” (pg. 12)

Pat was also a spiritual woman, devoted to her Catholic faith. She found increasing disparity between grasping for outer achievement and “living from the inside out.” It didn’t seem to add up.

Marriage and motherhood only served to aggravate her frustration. She could no longer live for her own desires and ambitions; there were others to consider. Priorities had to be set – what was most important?

It was here and frequently throughout the book that I kept writing, “That’s me!” or “Me too!” in the margins. Pat’s candid sharing of her life experience and how she eventually reconciled it through a growing knowledge and devotion to Mary mirrored my own life.

Pat’s message is especially important to women of my generation and before. Too many times I have witnessed women who have no sense of their own worth, who don’t love themselves enough to take time for themselves, to nurture themselves. They spend every last bit of love and energy on those around them and often without recompense. I have seen such women sad, depressed and burnt out. All this even though these same women grew up seemingly enjoying the advantages of women’s liberation.

I long for these women to read chapters 4-7 where Pat spells out the beautiful gifts of women: receptivity, generosity, sensitivity and maternity.

  • Receptivity: the capacity to recognize and receive love. Seeking out and drawing in those around us into relationship.
  • Generosity: the giving of ourselves to others, the natural extension of receptivity – we receive love, therefore we give love.
  • Sensitivity: sensing and discerning things of the heart, those things of God. Sometimes called feminine intuition, sensitivity allows us to read others and attend to their needs as a result.
  • Maternity: giving life, whether literally (as in having a baby) or figuratively in the way we care for others.

These are the gifts to cherish, the ones that make a true difference in the lives of others. This is what Pat means by “living from the inside out.” These gifts must be nurtured from within, connected intimately with the God who gave them. They are what changes lives forever for the good.

Pat writes often of Mary as the courageous example because of her unwavering “yes” to God to bear His son. This “yes” wasn’t a “yes” of duty but one given in trust despite not knowing how it would impact her life. She joyfully accepted her role and couldn’t wait to share the news with her cousin, Elizabeth. It was a “yes” that would lead to glorious blessings and deep suffering, all of which she pondered in her heart. Pat writes:

“Submission to God’s plan is anything but a weak choice … Being a loving and faithful servant did not demean Mary; it fulfilled her … Mary helped me find the grace I needed to lay down my old self-centered ways – in exchange for a new a joyful feminine love that embraced others without fear and without having to receive something in order to give.” (pg. 57)

Blessed, Beautiful and Bodacious affirms the choices I made for my children back when I was a young mother. It affirms the path I take today, growing in faith and learning how to give away all the love I receive from my God within. Pat’s journey was my journey and I believe it may be yours, too. It’s a journey, and a book, that I can heartily recommend.

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Good Friday reflections in video and song

On this Good Friday I wanted to offer several short video reflections as we pause and think about the meaning of this holy day and the glorious Easter to come.

This first video takes a little over 5 minutes to view. It follows the Stations of the Cross using the Jesus Prayer as the reflection:

For a longer reflection, this series of videos leads you through the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary using the music and sung prayers from my Mary, Queen of Peace Meditation Guide & Sung Rosary.

And finally, an excellent reflection found on the Holy Rover blog contains a video connecting the events of Good Friday to our everyday, ordinary activities.

May you all have a blessed day today as you reflect upon the immense, endless love of God, and may it lead to a joyous Easter, celebrated with family and friends.

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A passion for birding brings joy in the midst of darkness (and unlocks a powerful memory)

I am a lifelong bird watcher. My mother was passionate about it and got my New York City-raisedfather hooked on it too. They used to take elder hostel trips to sanctuaries to watch bird migrations. Their favorite was a trip to the Audubon sanctuary on Hog Island in Maine with the “rock stars” of the birding world (you can read more about Hog Island here). Here is a picture of them on that trip:

daddy and mommy at hog island

Ken Elkins is passionate about birds too. In fact, he calls himself a competitive birder, participating regularly in competitions. He is so passionate that he wanted to share it with others.

Thus was born  “Bird Tales” a dynamic, unique, and low cost therapeutic program that brings the natural outdoor world of birds to people living with dementia.

teaching

How I wish this had been available for my mother during her tenure at the nursing home, lost in the darkness that is dementia.

lady with chickadee

Audubon posted this video showing Ken presenting his “Bird Tales” program to residents at the Wilton Meadows Rehabilitation and Health Care Center:

The moment I saw those residents handling the toy birds, squeezing them to make them sing, the tears poured forth (in fact, even the memory of that moment is causing some tearing as I write this). It brought back a flood of memories, some bitter with loss, others very sweet in remembrance of the mother who instilled a lasting love of nature in me which in turn, reminds me of what is important, keeping me connected with my God and my world.

another lady with chickadeeThe YouTube site contains the following description:

“With support from the Toyota TogetherGreen program, Audubon employee Ken Elkins developed “Bird Tales” a dynamic, unique, and low cost therapeutic program that brings the natural outdoor world of birds to people living with dementia. Working with dementia care expert Randy L. Griffin and facilities operated by Transcon Corporation, Ken launched Bird Tales to encourage participants to connect with birds on a multisensory level — sight, sound, smell, and touch. Ken works with facility staff to improve the quality of bird habitat at each facility, incorporating practices like organic lawn care, landscaping with native species and setting up bird feeding stations. Ken also developed a training video and workbook to make this program easy to replicate and implement at other dementia care and assisted living centers throughout Audubon’s national network.”

I could see myself doing what Ken Eklins is doing. If you think you could too, check out birdtales.audubon.org.

Click to Tweet & Share: A passion for birding brings joy in the midst of darkness (and unlocks a powerful memory) http://wp.me/p2D9hg-qF

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A recovering political junkie eyes a new direction

I am a recovering political junkie.

Having my own office I am can listen to whatever I wish. I’ve always enjoyed talk radio because it keeps my mind engaged (whereas music unplugs me). My husband introduced it to me back in the days when I was home with small children; it became the adult conversation during the day.

gene burns
Legendary talk show host Gene Burns

In these early days talk radio was intellectually stimulating (especially with hosts like Gene Burns). Mostly I listened to conservative talk but would also sample the other side.

I did the same with my news reading: mostly conservative with a dose of the other side.

Talk radio taught me the political process both nationally and locally while at the same time, keeping me entertained. I agreed with most of what was being said and on occasion I would even call in and talk to the host.

After the election of 2008, my husband and I began to watch the talk shows on cable, mostly Fox but MSNBC and CNN too. The presidential debates were like sporting events to us; it’s what addicted me to Twitter. As the debate would progress, I could count on immediate feedback with tweets from the various professional commentators and average citizens like myself. And I could “talk back” if I wished.

election 2012We looked forward to election night believing our candidate would win. It became clear as the evening wore on that we were wrong. Very wrong. Twitter became painful to follow.

A lot of so-called “experts” had egg on their faces that night.

I was a political junkie. It used to be fun. It is not anymore.

I stopped being a political junkie on November 7, 2012 after the crushing defeat of my candidate. It became clear, like an epiphany, that everybody whose opinion I trusted had been wrong. They were all in their own delusional bubbles and while they believed they were proclaiming the truth, it was in realty smoke and mirrors.

I felt utterly duped. I’d been sucker-punched. Nobody on my side saw it coming. I sure didn’t.

The next morning, I started fasting from politics. I don’t normally listen to Christmas music so early in the season but a wonderful channel on Pandora called “Classic Christmas” got me through the next several weeks as I recovered from being a political junkie.

Talk radio is no longer fun. The content is shrill and vitriolic, polluting my mind with negativity. It is not unlike what is going on in Washington with our leaders, made impotent due to their focus on their own position rather than the urgent needs of this country.

My core conservative beliefs have not changed, nor has my desire to stay informed. But I no longer believe in politics.

It all feels like junk. And nothing made that plainer than the last couple of weeks with the election and installation of Pope Francis.

News junkie and Catholic that I am I downloaded the Pope App on my phone so I could stay informed with the news of the conclave. I was able to watch, on my phone, the announcement of Habemus Papum – we have a pope!

pope francisV
Pope Francis

When I found out he was from Argentina, I whooped and hollered and pranced around in my basement office. I had dearly hoped for a pope from either South America or Africa where the Church is vibrant with growth. A new face, a new perspective, a breath of fresh air.

I got my wish. And now I can’t get enough of “Papa Francisco.”

Politicians failed to lead through their empty words. Pope Francis succeeds in leading through his example.

Whereas our political leaders blather endlessly, blaming and destroying each other while the serious problems of our country go unaddressed, Pope Francis seeks to uplift all of God’s Creation as the means for creating a better world.

Whereas our leaders are motivated by their own quest for power, the pontiff seeks to empower all people, especially the least among us: the poor, the handicapped, the disenfranchised. As one of the most powerful leaders in the world, he is doing his best to take the spotlight off of himself and shine it onto his flock.

The image of him stepping out of the pope mobile during the procession to his inaugural mass to kiss, caress and comfort a severely disabled man is unforgettable. He is a pastor, a shepherd. He seeks sincerely to emulate Jesus.

pope with disabled man

Holy Week will soon be upon us. Typically the Holy Thursday mass is celebrated in grandeur at either St. Peter’s Basilica or the Basilica of St. John Lateran. During the mass there is the ceremonial foot washing after the reading of John’s Gospel, chapter 13, verses 1-15: Jesus washes the feet of his disciples to demonstrate how they are to serve one another; the participants are priests and prominent lay people.

Pope Francis, in keeping with his own longstanding tradition,  has opted to celebrate Holy Thursday mass at the Casal del Marmo prison for minors, a Rome juvenile detention facility where he will wash the feet of some of the young detainees.

Our political leaders, for the most part, appear take advantage of their powerful positions to better their own lives and to advance their celebrity status.

Pope Francis appears to be using his to advance the positions of the forgotten in our society.

i love papa francescoNo wonder I can’t get enough of “Papa Francisco!” His name, his actions truly spell hope. I pray I am not being led into a new delusional bubble but if the pontiff continues pointing to Christ, I can be free from delusion.

I am a recovering political junkie. My gaze is now turned towards the Vicar of Christ whose example fixes my eyes squarely on Jesus, the true solution to the desperate problems of our world.

Click to Tweet & Share: A recovering political junkie eyes a new direction http://wp.me/p2D9hg-qO

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In two weeks Christians around the world will celebrate Easter, the resurrection of our Lord. During the last several weeks, we have been preparing through the observance of Lent, a time of renewal, conversion and repentance. Service to others is a wonderful way to live out our renewal and Pope Francis leads the way. Here are some suggestions that best selling author Lisa Hendey suggested in honor of the new pontiff.

Wish you could have been at St. Peter’s Square? You can be! Experience the announcement of Pope Francis as it actually happened.

I found myself last night watching the reruns of the announcement of Pope Francis. I found myself filling up while watching the white smoke, listening to the ancient peeling bells, and witnessing the joys of tens of thousands.

It was such a beautiful moment, a moment of unity for Catholics and non-Catholics around the world. St. Peter’s Square was filled to overflowing with peoples of all ages, races and stations in life (and I’m willing to bet, various faiths as well).

The word “catholic” means universal and indeed yesterday, the world was “catholic,” united through television, radio and the internet with the crowds standing in the rain, waiting to great the new Pope.

Did you wish you were there? I sure did.

catholic insider logoNow you can experience the moment for yourself, virtually, through the magic of podcasting.

catholic insider fr. roderickFr. Roderick Vonhögen, a priest from the Netherlands, has been using the new media (blogging, podcasting, Facebook, Twitter, YouTube) since 2005 to take his listeners to key places and events around the world. His groundbreaking program, The Catholic Insider, was in Rome when Blessed John Paul II passed away and he was there in St. Peter’s Square when then-Pope Benedict XVI was announced to the world.

Now you can experience the anticipation, excitement, joy and emotion of “Habemus Papam!” with this enthusiastic priest whose joy is infectious. I found myself laughing, crying and pondering as I listened.

I felt like I was there.

catholic insider

Go and visit The Catholic Insider where you can listen to the podcast right from your computer. If you have an iPhone or iPod, you can go to iTunes and find The Catholic Insider.

Father Roderick also makes videos on the go. Here is the same report in a 7 minute video:

I listened in my car this morning on the way to work. What a way to begin the day!

Click to Tweet & Share: Wish you could have been at St. Peter’s Sq? You can be! Experience the announcement of Pope Francis as it happened! http://wp.me/p2D9hg-qf

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