Long Time Coming

My grandmother just died. She was ninety-five years old, so that's about as long as any of us could hope to last. I had for some time known of the sad circumstances of her life--all four of her children were taken from her, her marriage subsequently fell apart, and she regressed to an earlier mental state for the rest of her life. She did later reunite with all of her children (minus one, who died as a child). I learned that she taught a Sunday school class and told her students, "I've got a daughter your age," and, "I've got a son your age," not knowing anything about where they might be. I also learned that she could play piano by ear. To my knowledge, that is my only relative from whom my family's musical abilities might have come, then. I was asked to be a pall bearer for her, a duty I performed with honor (that was my first time doing so).

Two years ago, very nearly to the day, another death (my father's childhood friend) perhaps initiated my resigning from a position that made me miserable and returning to education. These events have an uncanny way of prompting introspection and motivating change. In the first case, I thought, "If I don't leave here now, I'll remain indefinitely because it's easier." Now, the immediate lesson is less defined. Sitting in a church Sunday morning, though, I listened as the pastor delivered a message concerning living out hope regardless of one's circumstances. It is not an overstatement to say that my grandmother had everything taken away. At the same time, nurses attended her wake, remembering how she sang to them, and old acquaintances of hers from the small town an hour away, where she lived most of her life, showed up at her burial site.

This is all maudlin and morose. But I don't want to be so cynical that I close my ears to something I should be hearing. I feel less inclined to indulge in political screeds at the moment, such as whether the importance of the Tea Partiers is overstated (I think it is) or whether Pres. Obama is culpable for too little response to the BP oil spill (he probably is). I am too often guilty of thinking where I should be acting. There is a place for that (such as challenging accepted notions), and working too much against this inclination is essentially working against my own personality. However, if I identify the importance of advocating for social justice or fighting poverty, won't I have the most direct impact by volunteering in some capacity? I am beginning to look into such opportunities, as well as ways to become more engaged generally. I hope that it is not one of those vague notions out of which nothing comes.

BTW, a search for "Leftist Christian" (I have to do this to find my blog after some time away) brings interesting, borderline hateful results; for example, "Today's leftist Christian appears to give corrupt regimes a pass" and "Leftist Group Seeks To Use ‘God Talk’ To Lure Christians To Democrat Party."

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