Sunday...a fun day?

Good morning! Yep, it is day two of life without the Pope and I miss the little guy. He shared so many thoughts on how to build a better society and be a better person. As I complete this post, I will share the paragraph that was most inspirational to me.

 

On to Sunday.....I had to arise early to get on the train again but the body was not willing. I guess standing for a long period of time on Saturday took a bit of a toll on the legs. But if a 78 year old man could do it, so can I.....

Unfortunately, the 78 year old man has more stamina, and I was late for the train. With that, Tink and I arrived around 11 am for the 4 pm mass on the Parkway. I had received an email from my volunteer captain to head for the Parkway to count pilgrims. Yep, a person who cannot count passed 11 without a calculator was going to count people at mass with one of the clickers.


First, we had to get through security.... and here is where my story begins and ends......

Running and limping from the train since we were late, we made it to one of the lines to get through security. Although I could not see the TSA officials (yep, TSA), I figured the wait would be like an airport line at rush hour. I could not have been more wrong....as a bus load of pilgrims cut into our line.

Then we waited....and did not move.....

I put on my distance glasses to try to locate the security check point. Even with the glasses, I was blocks away. So, we continued to wait.....and wait.....

We moved a few inches.....don't they know that I am supposed to count people? Oh, by the way, I have a ticket!

Fifteen minutes later, we moved another 6 inches....It seemed that we moved 6 inches every 15 minutes for 2 and 1/2 hours......

One block later, we are still in line with two blocks to go...crawling....legs are cramping....then the restaurant owners got smart. No one was in their establishments because we were stuck in line. So, the restaurants came to us. I was not hungry when I got into line but after three hours, the stomach began to whisper to me saying "your Kaski bar is not going to cut it.....look at that gorgeous hoagie with fresh mozzarella and tomato....roasted red pepper pesto...it is calling to us...."

Then I did it. I ordered the sandwich from line and had it delivered. Tink and I crawled a few more inches now equipped with our lunch and dinner......

After four hours, I started to jump in place because the legs were screaming.....the gel foam pads were useless....the feet were on fire....I am not complaining, just reporting facts.



Then I see it.....there are 4 airport security scanners for 200,000 of my closest friends. Four....that's right...four.....no wonder it took all day. Sheesh!

I could now see what the hold up was. The security folks were going through every bag and bag chair then allowing people to walk through the metal detectors. I watched in aghast as the two women (that's right, 2) pulled each bag chair out of its sleeve to examine it. Then they went through each cooler. I was afraid for my mozzarella and roasted red pepper pesto hoagie. Was she going to squish it looking for a weapon of mass destruction. Fear crept into my mind as I began to worry more about the fate of my hoagie than my feet.



Side bar: this is what happens when the blood pools in a person's legs and is no longer perfusing the brain. The individual starts to hallucinate about flattened hoagies and bag chair bombs.....

Then we finally got through. I did set off the security alarm with some underwire that I was wearing and had to be scanned with a wand. I saw a nun being scanned too, so I did not feel so violated.

Anyway, we made it through and I was going to wait for Betty and Scoob who were a half block behind us but I had tickets and was going to save them a space.

I ran to the corner and showed my ticket. The officer would not let me cross the street despite my ticket since the mass was beginning. And so, I stood under the flag of Sweden waiting to hear mass since I could not see it and had no idea where I was. I waited for Betty and Scoob but they never came. In fact, the police closed the security check points as they were about to pass through. They never got in!



The mass sounded nice. Although most of it was in Spanish. The jumbo trons had the mass on it with subtitles. I could not see those. So, I stood by a barrier listening to Spanish and not understanding a thing....despite having taken dos anos in escuela de espanol.....

After mass, I continued to look for Betty and Scoob who had disappeared, so I headed back to the train. Sad....I did not see mass...understand it.....or catch a glimpse of the Pope. In the week that I had spent in the city, I saw his right arm wave from his Fiat. That's it.

Was I sad? YES!



Was I peeved? YES!

But Pope Francis speaks of love and patience and kindness with compassion. Gotcha....I am being tested....thanks....

As we ran to the train, we waited as the cars began to fill.....luckily, we got a seat and as I sat, I went on the internet to read the Pope's homily. Yes, it was inspiring. Now, I should count my lucky stars that I was near the event.

Wearing our orange volunteer shirts did nothing for us during the day as we waiting in line with the rest of the hopefuls. Then I was tapped on the shoulder. A lady said to me: "Thank you for your service."

Huh? What did I do?

"Thank you for volunteering."



How nice.

You're welcome. Did you see the Pope?

"Oh yes. We had great seats (grrrr........)."

What time did you get there.

"We were in line at 7 am and got through the screening right away. Although they took my apples and water."

Huh? My apples and water and hoagie made it through the screening process and were declared safe. Perhaps they got tired of throwing produce out by the time they got to me.

"Yes, and I told them that I was diabetic."

Feeling concerned, I asked her if she had enough to eat.

"Oh we were fine."

With that, I gave her my non threatening Red Delicious apples for her hotel room. Enjoy, they have been screened and cleared as a weapon. They pose no threat to you and your husband.

Then she said something that I had noticed and loved about the week...."I was so thrilled with the city. Can you believe in the time that I spent here, I never heard one curse word."

She was right. People were on their best behavior. Or, perhaps, this is the type of crowd that is attracted to the Pope. Anyway you look at it, it was a terrific week. People came together for a common purpose, to live their faith and to listen to the head of the church.

The way, I look at it is, the world was more peaceful and kind for one week. I liked it. I really liked it....

Then it was back to work Monday.....the day was long and I wanted to come home and sit and have a glass of wine to unwind and rejuvenate. This required a quick trip to the liquor store. As I stood in line, a common theme for the week, I spoke to the clerk and asked him if he saw the Pope.



Here is his reply:

"Yes, I did. First, I watched half of the Eagles game which started at one (what?). Then I left the house and got in line."

How long did it take you to get through?

"Forty five minutes."

WHAT!????? Where were you?

"Twelfth and Wood".

Crud! This was five blocks from our crammed security check point. Did you have a ticket?

"Oh yes. I was very close."

I wanted to shout, but held my angst back and considered a few things.

First, I was blessed to have had the experience.

Second, I learned new things like how to read a train schedule and pay for a train ticket.

Third, people are basically kind and good. It was a privilege to have served in such a way. Some day, if the Pope comes back, which he won't, I will have no qualms about doing it again.

Now, it is time for me to figure out what I am going to teach today......let's see......blank.....I am drawing a blank...

Coffee time!



PS: Here is the paragraph that I plan to share with my family: "Faith opens a “window” to the presence and working of the Spirit. It shows us that, like happiness, holiness is always tied to little gestures. “Whoever gives you a cup of water in my name — a small gesture — will not go unrewarded”, says Jesus (cf. Mk 9:41). These little gestures are those we learn at home, in the family; they get lost amid all the other things we do, yet they do make each day different. They are the quiet things done by mothers and grandmothers, by fathers and grandfathers, by children, by brothers. They are little signs of tenderness, affection and compassion. Like the warm supper we look forward to at night, the early lunch awaiting someone who gets up early to go to work. Homely gestures. Like a blessing before we go to bed, or a hug after we return from a hard day’s work. Love is shown by little things, by attention to small daily signs which make us feel at home. Faith grows when it is lived and shaped by love. That is why our families, our homes, are true domestic churches. They are the right place for faith to become life, and life grows in faith."

Peace!

Preparing for the future

Hi. I am back in town and ready to resume Pope training. I actually have a 'volunteer webinar' to attend on Thursday night. I will learn the ins and outs of Pope volunteerism and how to get in and out of the city without having a nervous breakdown or walking a zillion miles.



let's see.....I am going to need a sturdy pair of sneakers...thick runner's socks.....water bottle....sun glasses...rain poncho....and all of the accoutrements needed to spend a day in the city...money...credit cards....transit pass...bottle of water or five....kashi bars..hat...sun screen.....my head examined....



On to the big kid who is now alone in Seattle....oh, there should be a movie about being alone in Seattle, doncha think?

Anyway, he finally threw the ball yesterday after a month of training and hit 88 off the mound. He was not discouraged because that velocity is actually pretty good since he has not thrown hard since March.

This is encouraging news for him, so I say: "good for you, kiddo." Keep up the good work.

As he and I continue to train for different things, I am also getting ready to go back to work. There is a back to school barbecue tonight....oye......and a mandatory campus meeting tomorrow morning.

I am not a big fan of barbecues where there is a large number of people attacking the flat, greasy, and lifeless burgers trying to swat the flies off them. I think that I will bring my own peanut butter and jelly sandwich for this one.

Tomorrow's meeting is going to discuss the state of economic stability at the university. Enrollment is down...no pay raises for the past few years.....budget is tight....oh yeah, at the end of the year, they abolished tenure! Yep, I no longer have job security after years of working on stuff that I disliked in order to stay employed.



OK, I didn't exactly 'dislike' all of the extra activities over the years, but I did them to assure my family that money would be coming in to pay tuition and trips to Seattle and Texas. Oh, and there is the food bill too. And now, to give the administrators full control during a fiscal crisis, they eliminate tenure. Nice....No, not nice!

I guess that I can try to get a barrista position again at Starbucks. They give health insurance. All I have to do is learn the difference between a caramel macchiato and frapacino.....and latte and espresso...and a shot does not mean a shot of whiskey, but of something else, which I have heard only when people have ordered them.

Am I worried that I will get the 'ax' at work? No, not really. I think that I have other skills that they need...although, at my age, I have a higher salary than the newbies (which is not saying much because I work for a non profit.). Could I be eliminated and then shout 'ageism'? Maybe....maybe not.



Hey, I have a professional background that can be used anywhere in the US in a variety of settings. I will be fine if they close my program. Yet, I know that this is not the case with departments like philosophy and perhaps religion. There are not many majors and therefore, they stand more in jeopardy than my colleagues. 



My prediction: They will whittle away the majors that have fewer than 10 students.....eliminate assistive personnel which means that we will not have administrative support to do things like grab lunches, make phone calls, and set up appointments for us (don't cry for us. I figured out how to use voice mail long ago, but not the copy machine and printers). Perhaps I am wrong in my assessment of the future. I hope so.



 Maybe the President of the university will tell us tomorrow that we got a raise.
In previous years, when we got a raise, I would say "Two percent of squat (my salary) is still squat."  



The reality is that as much as I complain, I really love my job which is the reason that I have stayed so long. The people and setting are terrific as well as my work load. My job has also allowed me to teach most of my load in the fall to allow me to travel to baseball games in the spring. Yes, it would be very hard to duplicate the people and flexibility that this job has offered me. In other words, keep your fingers crossed that the sate of the university is not a state of emergency as we prepare for the impending semester.

OK, off to do some Pope training with Big Sis.

Peace!

Preparing for Seattle

Oops....If I say that I have not posted because I have been busy, would you believe me? No? Yes?



OK, I have had a few down moments, but nothing to write until today. Soooooo, here we go....

First, Happy birthday to Big M who is the toughest guy that I know as he battled the foes on the gridiron and now the big bad cancer cells that have invaded his body. I am looking forward to seeing him today to share a DQ Dilly Bar or some birthday cake. Yeah, I know....I don't need either, but it is a national holiday-it's Big M's birthday!



Another shout out to BP Grandmom who needed some medical attention on Tuesday. Fortunately (or unfortunately), the diagnosis is vertigo. She had a cat scan of the head which was 'negative'. This is something that we have chuckled over. BP Grandpop is now the Florence Nightingale of the household. I wonder if he can create a four cornered sheet on the bed? Shall I try to drop a quarter on it? It had better bounce!

On to the extremely big guy who came back from the south with me over the weekend ten pounds heavier. Ooops, when a person does not work out 6 hours a day and eats the same amount of food, the pounds can creep up on you. I should know as the pounds creep up and can then bite a person in the butt....if you know what I mean.

Anyway, he went to Jersey with his pal, Righty to have his body realigned. These guys work with professional athletes, especially hockey players. As he was examined by the experts, they concurred that his college training damaged his body, albeit not permanently. This was good news.

The better news was that they will work with him five days a week for four weeks for $89.00.

Huh? Does this mean $89.00 a day? Sheesh!

Nope. This price tag covers all five days a week for four weeks. Did he have a coupon? What's the deal? Is this training on the clearance rack? Really? Are they mad scientists? Why the low invoices? Don't they know that I have a stash of change under my sofa cushions?

The answer will surprise you. They responded that the low price tag was to build their new business. And lo and behold, I am super pumped that he got in on the ground floor. They also told him that he is never and I repeat 'never' to lift weights for the upper body. Huh? Is this a best practice model? Covered by research? Do we have data on this policy?

We do? Really? We read research and abide by best practice models? Such a novel idea!

After he worked out for two days, his body is looser and is beginning to recover. Yesterday, he was throwing and was gunned. He hit 90 mph. Yep, he has not really pitched in two months and he hit 90!

Excited? Uh, yes.

Last week when he stopped by Tampa to analyze their program, he sat in a chair and was gunned sitting at 80 mph. That's right. He could not use his legs, so he sat in a chair and could hit 80. According to the big lefty, his speed was the third highest among the group of participants and he was sitting. Cool, huh?

All of this has renewed his hope in things to come. After he finishes his Jersey work outs, he will head west to Driveline which is in the Seattle suburbs. From there, he and Righty will work with the experts and hopefully catch someone's eye.

And so, here is where we stand....southeastern Pennsylvania to the mountains to Ohio to Illinois to Texas to Tampa to Seattle...then who knows?

I will end with this thought....I am proud of the big kid who has overcome tough hurdles and focused on his goal. He will succeed no matter what he does. My hope is that he can find something in life that he is passionate about that will excite and motivate him to do his best. Finally, I pray that he is a good and kind man who gives back to his community and  finds contentment in life. This is a mother's prayer.



Amen.

Peace!

Pray, hope, and don't worry

Good morning! Whew! Time has flown by and I am sorry that I have not posted, but I was given a deadline on a huge document and despite my best intentions with my laptop stapled to my lap for four straight days, I missed the deadline. As I sheepishly asked for an extension on Monday, the woman laughed and said: "Take a month..."

Huh? A month? I missed four great days of weather....Lil A's soccer game, working out...watching football games, running errands and so on...and I could have had a month's extension if I had asked a few days earlier....which has me a bit bugged. Had I known that there was some wiggle room on the deadline, I would not have tortured Tink and Dad over the weekend. They were the ultimate victims of my frenzy...."Bug off....can't you see that I am working...YOU ARE TALKING!....don't you have anyone else to talk to?" Actually, I was not that verbally rude, but trust me, the patience was thin....very thin....They were innocent of all charges.

I should have just left the house and gone to the office and shut the door and turned on the coffee pot, but NO, I stayed home and the fall out from the nuclear attack settled on them. Ahh...no worries, I will make them some cupcakes and all will be forgiven.

And so, as Tink and dad slowly reenter my life....the big kid has called on a number of occasions as we succinctly chatted about baseball and school. Since I am headed into class in 20 minutes, I'll be succint too....

~Over the weekend, they had their first scrimmage. He was on the mound with the coach standing behind him...comfy, eh? Anyway, he called and said: "I have bad news and good news. What do you want to hear first?"

hmmm...you pick...."OK, I walked 4 in two innings, struck out one, and gave up two earned runs."

Is that the good news or bad news? "The bad news..."

OK, shoot...the good news is.....

"I hit 90 mph"

That is when I completely and unashamedly lost it. As he was describing what had happened, I began to heave and sob, although, he thought  that I was having an allergy attack. He did it! He hit 90! That has been his goal from when he was a baby and in tee ball. No, as a five year old, he did not say: "Mom, some day I am going to throw 90 miles an hour, now hand me a juice box..." No, it has been a career goal ever since he learned to throw a baseball. And with all of the hard work, sacrifice and dedication, he did it....and I cried....So many ups and downs...mono...Lyme disease....poor coaching...doubts....soul searching....fears and struggles...wow...90...

On to the next....After the game, he had to run the stadium four times (once for each walk). The coach said to him: "you have what it takes to be the best pitcher in baseball." Again, I cried....

The next time that he was on the mound, he missed the signal for a fast ball and threw a curve to Big Red. The coached screamed at him, called him a moron, and said:"Go run....you will either be the best pitcher in baseball or the best runner...you choose...."

The kid is trying...really trying, and proving himself to be coach able. So the new coaches like that...although the pitching coach has a thing for running if a guy screws up. If it was me, I would have collapsed and died on the warning track. Fortunately, the big kid is in big time shape.

So now what? Well, he called yesterday..."Mom, pray for me." Yes, hunny....I always pray for you, Tink, dad, Bullpen grandmom, grandpop, lil A, for world peace....to end hunger...the family...friends....the Pope...."

"MOM! On Thursday, the major league scouts are going to be in the stadium to watch me. I gotta hit 90 again! I need you to pray for me!"

Oh, that kind of request....hmmm...how shall I approach it? "With all due respect, Lord, you know that my son has wanted to be a major league pitcher. I also know that there are big problems in the world, like hunger, nuclear threats, genocide, and so on. But, if you could clear you calendar on Thursday for a moment, please help the big kid to hit 90 at least twice, preferably, 5 or 6 times. Thank you, God...I love you."

How is that? In all seriousness, I do pray as much as I can and he is in my prayers. but I am really not sure that I should pray for a 90 mph fast ball. Although, why not? If he can do something positive with these skills, then he will need to hit 90 to make a major league difference in perhaps the lives of kids, fans, teams, and players. After all, he is a good guy and God will use him in unique circumstances to do good.

And so, my dear readers...on Thursday, could you utter a simple prayer for the big kid who has big dreams? He knows that he cannot do it alone and will need some spiritual help to keep him calm and focused on his goal. The Lord will not be throwing the fast ball, but he can keep him grounded and focused on his target.

By the way, if you are chatting with God for the big kid, please keep Big Sis's husband, Big M in your prayers. He is in the hospital having a number of tests. Tomorrow, hopefully, when things settle, I will share the story with you.
 
Thanks a bunch!

OK, gotta go to class now.....