Beachin'

We took our bikes with us, as I was determined to get in at least two rides while we were in MD. So on Wednesday morning I arose fairly early, ate and took my wife's stuff down to the beach, snapping a few pictures while there. Then I got my gear on and headed my bike north to Rehoboth Beach. Just a few miles short of the 50-miler I'd planned, it was a nice ride on a beautiful day, with a pleasant assist from a bit of unexpected tailwind on the way back.

Not much beach time on Wednesday, but instead a brief afternoon nap, until hunger overwhelmed my tiredness - I always eat a lot after a long ride. Dinner was tacos at the other sister's place. The corn salsa and guac we'd planned on making during the trip fit right in. It was our 3rd batch of corn salsa in a week and a half, so we abandoned the leftovers, which one of our nephews gladly took along with him when he left to spend the rest of the weekend with friends. Some more Catch Phrase and some Wii Bowling (Wii bowls wobble . . . ) finished out the night.

Thursday was another early rise for a run along the beach. My first run of the year, actually, and just a mile-and-a-half along the beach, but that was plenty. The walk back seemed like forever! After getting back and cleaning up, mrs tg and I decided to ride our bikes to the boardwalk for a few hours, where I bought my first bucket hat. After walking around a while and having lunch (pizza by the slice, including a really great slice of mushroom pizza!) we headed back to the motel. She was pleasantly surprised by how well she did on the ride.

Thursday afternoon completed my mini-triathlon for the day as I did some more ocean swimming. Then pasta for supper, and the guys and kids went and putt-putted while the sisters went out by themselves for a while. Some more Wii after everyone was back, and another wonderful day was complete. It was our last night in OC (no, not the OC, but we called it that long before the show).

Friday morning I got up early to take in the sunrise and grab some more pics, then headed back to bed. Next time I've got to remember to do that before the day we have to check out of our room! Still, we hung out all day, giving me a chance to catch a nap on my sister-in-law's sofa while everyone was out. A nice dinner out with the mrs. and last bit of souvenir shopping rounded out the trip. We headed back to sister-in-law's house for the night. End of the beach, but not the end of the trip yet!

A (first) day at the beach

So, we made sure we were mostly packed for the trip on Saturday, as we knew Sunday's schedule was brutal. 7:00 am bike ride, 10:30 mass (9:45 arrival for musicians), brunch at a friend's house, followed by our granddaughter's b-day party, and finally, delivering the dog to the friends who are watching him for the week. (It turns out he probably could've stayed at home, but instead he hung out with his sister; they hadn't seen each other since she left the litter in January of '04; we got him a couple weeks later. The sister belongs to one coworker, both parents to another.) And Saturday I didn't end up getting the grass cut, so I had to squeeze that in between mass and brunch, on a pretty hot day. Despite all the activity scheduled on the day before we left, it ended up being a fairly stress-free and thoroughly enjoyable day for us.

Monday we got out a little later than we usually like, but the 5-year-old bypass around downtown Columbus kept that from being the traffic nightmare it would have been before. We arrived at my wife's parents' house in plenty of time to help with dinner. It was a pretty nice evening with them. The only minor glitch we had was realizing we should have packed a separate bag for this night, but we just fished what we needed out of our suitcases rather than dragging everything in, with a resolution to pack smarter before leaving Ocean City.

The drive across the Chesapeake and to the ocean on Tuesday was uneventful. A much later start than we planned, but the mrs. didn't sleep well the night before so made up for it a bit in the morning. What the hey - we were on vacation. If we got to the beach a little later, it might just mean we could check in when we got there. As usual, the wife was nervous going over the Bay Bridge, and then her bladder insisted on a short break in Salisbury, but as it turned out, our room was indeed ready for us to check into when we got there. And we were within a block of each sister's condo.

Even with the later-than-planned arrival, we had most of the afternoon at the beach. I swam in the ocean, eventually tiring and walking the few blocks back. It's been entirely too long since I last swam. In the evening we had a wonderful dinner prepared by our nephew's girlfriend. The highlight had to be the just-spicy-enough gazpacho with a cantaloupe base, roasted corn, and sweet red pepper. Then we pulled out Catch Phrase, the guys increasingly amused and the wives more frustrated over what became an embarrassingly one-sided scoresheet: 9 games to none, and it's been a really long time since I've been called a certain noun that starts with "f" and ends in "ers," but nobody wanted to quit until the individual games began growing one-sided at the end. The ladies would regain a measure of satisfaction the following night with a 2-2 draw.

As we settled into bed that night, the mrs. said that she'd already had a wonderful time, regardless of how the rest of the trip went. I pretty much had to agree.

Prelude to a vacation

Second day back from a really wonderful week away. First, some background.

We really hadn't planned on going to MD at all this summer, with gas prices so high and the money we wanted to spend on the house. But with my uncle sick and my wife needing a break, we went for an extended weekend over Memorial Day, which ended up being a really nice little getaway for us. Since then, my wife's mom has been diagnosed with cancer, which we now know started in her colon (over 50's, don't fear the colonoscopy; it's a life saver, and mom's doc apparently didn't believe in them) and has spread to her lung and liver. (Surgery tomorrow; prayers, please, if you're thus inclined.) Also, wife's full-time gig as a grandma grows increasingly frustrating (read on for an example), and she really needed a break. (Mind you, we're not complaining about the grandchildren. They're a joy to be around, and we're glad we're able to be with them.)

Too, my aunt had a family get-together planned for Saturday, which may be the last chance we have to all hang out with my uncle while he's still able to enjoy our company. Finally, two of my wife's sisters' families have established a tradition of going to Ocean City together for a week each summer. My wife has wanted to join them for several years, but it had never worked out for us; they had their condos reserved for last week.

All-in-all, it looked like a good time to head east again, spend a few days at the ocean and a couple more visiting family on "our" side of the Bay. Our conviction on this was strengthened when our daughter refused to make her own alternate child care arrangements, even though we'd provided phone numbers for willing helpers. If she'd been dealing with me rather than my wife, she'd have been out of luck, because I absolutely wouldn't have done it for her - where does she think she gets her stubbornness from, anyway? Our primary relationship with two of our daughters seems to have become free child care provider, and that's going to change.

Adding to our frustration was some conflict with our oldest, who was on the outs with the youngest over a petty issue, and evidently was not too pleased with us, either, at one point accusing us of playing favorites.

With our youngest granddaughter's 3rd birthday party scheduled for the 3rd (oldest's family not present; "I think I may have a heart attack and die from 'not surprise'!"), we decided to forego the preceeding weekend and just head out on Monday, spend the night in her folks' spare room - thereby giving us a chance to cook supper for them - before 4 days/3 nights at the ocean, with our last two nights at my wife's oldest sister's house, partly so we wouldn't burden her mom. Even though we're well able to take care of ourselves, if I were in her position my time to myself would be really important to me.

Missing treasures

I've found myself these last couple of days really spending quality time in the Lord's presence in the morning upon rising, rather than just a few fleeting and unfocused moments.

Yesterday was the memorial of St. Mary Magdalene, and the Office of Readings contained a wonderful reflection on her from St. Gregory the Great, pope. He pointed out Mary's great grief over Jesus, and how distraught she was that his body had been "taken away." In her longing for him, she alone remained behind where his body had been laid, and so became the first to encounter her risen Lord. She recognized him, but not until he called her by name.

So with us. When our hearts burn for everything except our Lord (or, when we allow other things to become lord over us), we do not encounter him so quickly, though he may be appearing to us in so many ways. And it is only when we he calls us by name that we recognize and respond to him.

Today is the memorial of St. Bridget of Sweden, and the Hours contained a wonderful prayer attributed to her based on Christ's passion, death, and resurrection. It mirrors how I've reflected on Jesus' wondrous sacrifice for us, and gives me something to reflect on as I prepare to work on revising Jubilee's Way of the Cross program for next Lent . . .

Sometimes it really is who you know

I'd deciced that the line down the front fork of my bike might be a crack, which isn't the sort of thing to take chances with. When carbon fiber fails, things can get ugly fast. I can't help thinking about what could've happened had it given out three weeks ago, hurtling downhill at 30+ mph, doubting whether I was gonna make it around the curve, my rear tire starting to slip out from under me as I tried to bring my speed back under control, a farm tractor trundling up the hill in the lane I was certain I was heading for. (Somehow I'd made it; I swear it must've been my guardian angel, because I thought for sure I'd lost it.)

At any rate, last Thursday we were enjoying a couple brews with our friend who'd wiped out earlier the day of my close call, breaking his scapula and collapsing a lung (ouch!). So I figure I'll probe the group's collective expertise concerning my fork. The young lady (she's 25 or so, the daughter of one of my friends) pipes up right away: it seems the cycling shop where she works has the exact fork I've been looking at online, which someone had bought and returned the previous week because it was the wrong size for their bike. It couldn't be sold as new, having already been cut to length; she was certain it'd fit my bike.

Sure enough, I was able to get a clearance price on the exact component I'd decided on, and with installation it cost less than the fork itself would have run me otherwise.

(Thanks, God!)

Never judge too quickly . . .

In this case, that maxim would apply to the weekend.

I took off Friday afternoon to rent a chain saw (28" bar!) to take care of the rest of the downed tree in my backyard. Well, I simply couldn't get the thing to start; it kept flooding, even after I returned to the rental place for additional instruction. This was basically the same saw I used to drop a tree in my front yard last year, but basically all I accomplished with my afternoon off was a nap, after which I was still ticked off. The whole situation just evoked a lot of emotional baggage from my youth. Finally I decided to pull on my cycling clothes for a vigorous evening ride, which was just what I needed, though with riding so hard I ended up staying up later than I'd planned . . .

Saturday morning brought a nice men's fellowship meeting, and a short rehearsal with a new guitarist who's joining our parish music ministry. Then we had plans to visit an area lake, where some friends were hosting a get-together for our marriage encounter group. We took along some freshly-picked corn to share with everyone; early in the season, so the ears weren't too full, but they certainly were sweet! Spent some fine time on the lake; took lots of pictures, which I haven't had a chance to download yet or I'd include one or two (maybe will add later). There were storms in the area, but only one while we were there, which came through when we were already indoors. The drive home was quite stormy - I don't think a minute of the hour-long drive passed without lightning illuminating the sky, and it absolutely poured for about half the drive - but uneventful.

Yesterday we had a couple new musicians join us at Mass, and welcomed back a young choir member who just finished a year in Latin America; as it happened, we were starting our communion hymn with a verse in Spanish, so she and I did a duet on it. In the afternoon we were going to a festival at one of the area churches, as a friend's band was playing. But it was such an incredibly gorgeous day that I decided to ride my bike, with the mrs. and another friend meeting me there. Nice group, very tight, did a great job covering a broad variety of tunes, from In the Mood to Spanish Eyes to Black Magic Woman. By the time they'd finished, we'd decided it was a fine day for a picnic, too, so I rode the bike to a nice park in the area (which, conveniently, I had to ride past to get home anyway) and staked out a picnic table while everyone else went and got the food and supplies. We hung out there for a couple hours as we cooked and ate and cleaned up. A brisk bike ride home completed the day.

With as wonderful as the weekend turned out, it's hard to believe I was in such a sour mood on Friday.

A call to service?

Some dreams are of no apparent significance, or may even seem utter nonsense. Others, upon further consideration, prove unconsciously revelatory, teaching me about my hidden attitudes and feelings. And then there are those that, initially, seem to ring out with an undeniable truth, but really end up preparing me for something entirely unexpected.

This morning, after hitting the snooze button (a once-per-morning ritual for me), I dreamt I was sitting on a sofa with my oldest sister-in-law, whom I also consider a dear friend, waiting for my wife to be ready for us to go somewhere. (For the life of me I don't know where we were; I didn't recognize the house.) With tears in my eyes, I lamented to her: "I know in my mind that the greatest joy we can ever know is to give fully of ourselves. But this knowledge doesn't seem to translate into action in my life." At this point, the second sounding of the radio broke through my slumber, so this was a fresh thought as I awoke.

The sense I had was of service to the poor, the sick, the homeless, etc., rather than of giving myself in love to my wife, which, while I think I'm doing fairly well at, is nonetheless an area in which most of us could still use some improvement.

This dream resonated with several things that I know to be true or have recently experienced. First, true giving of ourselves is, in fact, a gift to us. This has never failed to prove true in my life. Second, as I was mowing the back yard last night I kept thinking, almost as a mantra: of those to whom much is given, much is required. I was struck by how blessed I have been, in so many ways, and how little it seems I give in return. Third, I am still moved by the heart-stirring story I read yesterday of Our Lady of Perpetual Help Home, just outside Turner Field in Atlanta.

Once in the past, such a dream portended an opportunity for service that I might not have recognized without it. Fifteen years ago, a vivid dream of my late grandfather left me with a strong sense of our society's abandonment of the aged. It was the second thing within the week that had called my attention to this issue; I don't really remember what the first was. But that Sunday, there was a notice in our parish bulletin soliciting volunteers to provide geriatric respite care. (Respite caregivers assist family members who are caring for someone who requires constant supervision, by giving them a break of a few hours to run errands or just go relax for a while.) I volunteered, was trained, and ended up serving in place of another caregiver while she recovered from an accident. It "just happened" that my availability coincided with her injury; the change in my work schedule that necessitated the end of my service also "happened" to coincide with her getting clearance to resume her caregiving activity. Still, it was a real joy to care for and get to know my charge, a quite lucid but physically declining 94-year-old man who was being cared for by his rather spry 74-year-old son.

Now I've read this article, and had these thoughts and this dream. It could be that the latter were simply unconscious reactions to the former. Still, I think I'd better be attentive over the next few days for a fresh opportunity to serve.