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Background
Birthday: November 11
Gender: Male
Location:
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United States
School:
University of Minnesota B.A. Social Welfare/Psychology University of Minnesota Masters Degree Social Work
Work:
Retired LTC U.S. Army Reserve Medical Service Corps/ Greater Twin Cities United Way/ St. John's University School of Theology/Seminary Catholic Charities Archdiocese of Mpls St Paul Director of Stewardship and Development Normandale Lutheran Church Edina, MN
Hometown(s):
San Jose California/ Plymouth, Minnesota
My Websites:
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Transitions

The trees are almost bare now, revealing the vacant nests of birds who long ago foreclosed on their springtime homes and headed south for the winter.  The lawns in my neighborhood are carpeted with the leaves off those fallen trees, bright crimson, yellow, brown, red as mother nature has layed her carpet over the green grass and barren garden soil and the wind seems to seems to whisper "what now"?.....  November is a threshold month here in Minnesota.  By that I mean we are in a 'transition', we're not where we once were...and we're not where we're going to be.  If only human beings handled these 'liminal spaces' as well as our Mother earth.  We all could learn something from mother nature.  She does not wallow in despair over what once was under a warm summer sun, nor does she shake with anxiety or fear in what might be waiting in the still darkness of a cold winters night.  No, Mother Nature's wind on a bright, brisk November day is the simple sigh of a beautiful surrender to the natural beauty of God's creation, the four seasons of our lives.  Mother Nature knows that the snows and silence of winter will come and that they are necessary if we are to enjoy once again the rebirth of a glorious spring which will come to Mother Earth as sure as the sun will come out tomorrowl.  There is a time and a season for everything.
If only humans dealt with 'transitions' in their lives as well as Mother Nature .  Transitions are natural and if we surrender to them, if we simply not try to live in the past (before the threshold) or in the future (we've not yet crossed into), how much better we would be.  It is easier said than done.  Today I was reminded of this as I played in the park with my 2 year old grandson David.  A neighbor from across the street joined me as we watched his 11 year old son and about 12 of his friends play a pick-up game of tackle football on an 80 yard field they marked off themselves. My grandson desperately wanted to 'get in the game' but alas would have been trampled and was too young to join in so had to watch by  the sidelines.  However, that didn't stop grandpa.  The game brought back memories of when I did the same thing with my neighborhood buddies 50 years ago when I was 9 years old and had visions of playing one day in the NFL.
I couldn't resist asking my neighbor to hold David while I asked the boys if I could play quarterback for one or two plays.  They said sure and so I joined in.  I barked out the signals and went back to pass and threw the ball downfield and just for a moment, I was that 9 year old playing football with his friends on a sandlot all over again.  Fortunately I didn't hurt, nor embarass myself, but I did realize that my sandlot playing days are probably over and that's a good thing.  And so I watched with my grandson from the sidelines and thought about how much he has to look forward to  as he grows older and is able to play on those sandlots, just like the older boys in our neighborhood.
As for me, well I'll have fun too, watching David and my other grandchildren grow and romp in the 'fields of their dreams' in the years to come....that's what you do in the 'fall of your life' .........and that's just fine with me.

Zenobia says:

Hello There! I was just reading something to one of my grandsons who attended Maranatha Christian Academy and graduated in '07. I was reading something by Robert Browning and I asked if he had ever had an assignment of poetry reading and he said "no, but you know we studied apologetics and stuff". I raised this young man from infancy and am proud of his love of the Lord and his gentle ways, but I wished that he had been exposed more to the poetry of my time.
I said all of this in the long-winded manner that seniors are accused of. Your essay above is poetry. Sheer and beautiful poetry. I thank you for sharing it and God's heart.
Sincerely
Zenobia ( in Brooklyn Center MN) waiting for the cold winds to blow!
Posted: November 13, 2009 2:52AM EST
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Added: Nov 8, 2009
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