ORE CHRISTMAS LETTER 2009
The sound of a chocolate retriever’s ears being vigorously tossed in his wake-up flap begins the day for the two septuagenarians still abed. As both climb out, she stands looking across at her beloved and says, “Well, we’re up” and he, standing on the other side looks back at her and says, “So we are. It’s a miracle!” After laughing merrily, it struck me that this is what I can tell everyone concerning 2009 – “It’s a miracle!” because much of what took place throughout the year has been ordinary people experiencing extraordinary life.
An example is the onrush of technology. We pride ourselves in being “with it” even though we are aware that without our children’s savvy and assistance, we would still be writing on stone. At the end of summer, Janna and the eight year old twins came to spend a week with us, and I came into the space where we have his/her computers on the desktop. There were the girls, each facing a computer, mouse in hand, clicking away at a ferocious rate, with games on the screen. I said “What are you playing?” Ursula replied happily, “Oh, we wanted to play this game where you talk to each other on different computers, and Fiona found out how to connect through your Airport, so everything is just fine”. I said somewhat weakly, “Does your Mama know?” which was a ridiculous question, and both girls turned and gave me those huge grandchildren smiles that tell you right away that you are swimming in deep water, “Oh yes! She showed us how”. I left, completely routed.
Looking at the young faces and confronting the new minds of our four grand daughters feels miraculous, if not a bit scary. Nine-year-old Kira has all the skills of a competent social secretary well in hand, asking with true concern, “How are you Grandma?” when she visits with me. (It is likely that she has overheard conversations on the subject and knows a good deal.) Zoie is now a thirteen-year-old seventh grade child. I smile inside when I see her and visit with her, because even as I talk to this beautiful young girl, the sound track of many years of teaching 7th graders is playing in the background. “You teach 7th Graders? Oh wow!”, spoken in awe by other professionals. The best outcome of this experience is that from that time on, most life situations have a benchmark that is hard to exceed.
Charles got a new cell phone because we misplaced the old one – we are aware that “land lines” are fading, and “everyone else” communicates with cell phones. It makes great sense, ever connected at all moments. Our old phone had buttons that were very small, and Charles has very large finger tips from playing the organ for uncountable hours, so the new phone has very nice large digits on its screen. It came with a 200 plus page manual telling what else one can do with the phone. He has not read this at all. “I just want a telephone when I need it” he says, plus, he has yet to answer it when I call him on it. Sure that he will forget to turn off the sound, he has it on “Vibrate” so that it doesn’t ring out in church, and since it is rarely near enough to his person to be felt, it is futile. “What if there is an emergency?” I ask a bit shrilly, and he says, “Call Heidi or 911”. So you see, it’s a miracle that we get by as well as we do.
We traveled by car east, north and west in the summer, seeing family and dear friends en route. It is so fine when you have time to hold conversations about the “big stuff” as well as to remember grand shared moments of the past.
Heidi and Jon, Janna and Todd and John-paul remain in the same homes, jobs, and milieu as in previous years; Charles and I marvel at the joy that our adult children bring to us. When you have the little children and are convinced that they are superior human beings, it does not occur to you that one day they will be lovely people who really are superior human beings.
Charles goes forth into the future with unfailing good cheer. He composes, teaches, advises, remains the organist at First Church in Lincoln, gardens, and convinces orchids and other flowers that they are to bloom and bloom under his care. He says “I love you” by spending eight hours with the large snow blower and clearing a three-quarter mile path through Sanctuary so I can walk Alphie across the beautiful snow covered land. He makes me laugh every day. To date, he has not gone through the wedding vows of “for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, etc.,” and given a comparison about who is getting the “for better” and the “in sickness” part and who is not. That’s another miracle.
I, Constance, remain ever the same. I am now using “Advanced Revitalift Complete cream upon my face and neck with the hope of causing my neck to lengthen a bit in order to reduce the appearance of too much flesh below the chin. As for the illness, I am taking the long way home. It continues to be a route filled with the loveliest and most unlikely surprises. The one that stands out is a composition that Charles created and named “Glory Rock”. It is a splendid organ piece that uses the tune of “Rock of Ages” interwoven with “Glory, glory, hallelujah” from the Battle Hymn of the Republic. He liked the imagery of “When I soar to worlds unknown” and so do I. We have had many conversations about how the life after this earthly one might continue, and soaring to worlds unknown is most appealing. God will be there, having crafted the whole, and Christ, whose Birthday we rejoice in will have gone before and of course, the Spirit will accompany us throughout.
Merry Christmas!
— the Ores
upside-down Christmas tree
Charles’ Birthday Soireé
Newly Re-Painted Yellow
Heidi
Heidi helped organize the 1st place parade float from Lincoln’s Star City Parade!
Zoie, Jon, & Kira celebrate Jon’s soap-box victory
Zoie & Kira show off new mouth hardware
Janna knits on Amtrak ride to Nebraska
Todd & Fiona Icefishing
Ursula, Kira, & Fiona
John-Paul & Constance say “cheese”
John-Paul sees a mirrored door in Sancerre, France
the Koi
Ursula & the beloved Alphie