Pastor Martin Neimoller

LOVE Is All That Matters
LOVE Is All That Matters

Ok, it’s Thursday, not Sunday. Makes no difference to Lorie Sheffer which day her Guest Blogger post hits the press. Please enjoy this. If you have a brain and a heart, this one’s for you.

“They came first for the Communists, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Communist.

 Then they came for the trade unionists,
 and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a trade unionist. 

Then they came for the Jews,
 and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew.

 Then they came for me
 and by that time no one was left to speak up.”
That famous quote is credited to Pastor Martin Neimoller (1892-1984). He was referring to the fact that basically decent German people turned a blind eye as the Nazis targeted group after group in their horrifying rise to power. In doing so, over six million Jews were exterminated, along with five million others including Jehovah’s Witnesses, Gypsies, Poles, homosexuals, Soviet POWs, the handicapped and mentally ill and political groups including liberals and socialists.

Over thirty years ago, I learned what it feels like to be a religious minority when I married a Jew. Most of the bigotry wasn’t overt, but that seemed to make it even scarier; if danger wears a sign, we are not caught unaware. I lived in this rather conservative, predominantly Christian area we were not exposed to different cultures or religions. When he moved here from New York City, my ex-husband was the only Jew in his new, small high school. He was forced to participate with Christmas and Easter programs in this public school, but denied excused absences for observance of Jewish holy days or holidays. When a teacher angrily referred to him as “a kike”, there were no consequences for that slur. It was assumed he was “a rich Jew”. When we got married, comments were made to me that if I converted to Judaism, all of our children and I would burn in Hell for not accepting Jesus as our Savior. I once sat across the table at a family Hanukkah dinner in The Bronx from an elderly couple, their concentration camp numbers still crudely tattooed on their forearms. Grandpa would tell us of how, when he immigrated to America, he was forced to walk on the opposite side of the street from the churches or he would be spit on. In my heart I knew that there was most certainly a place for them in heaven.
Not too many years ago, a remark was made to me concerning a play at my son’s high school. It was Children of a Lesser God. “My kids could never put on that play because of what’s across the street from their high school. You know how THEY are. They don’t believe in God.” This was a reference to our city’s only Synagogue. I do, in fact, know how “they” are. They are people whose religious beliefs mean as much to them as anyone else who is a person of faith. They are not all investment bankers or doctors. They are not all wealthy. They are not ALL anything. The family I was part of didn’t fit any of the stereotypes.

I now watch as another religion is being looked upon with scorn, fear and hatred. Just as all Germans were not Nazis, not all Muslims are terrorists. None of my homosexual friends are trying to destroy my marriage or anyone else’s marriage. My non-Christian friends are not trying to take away Christmas. I know some very moral, wonderful agnostics and atheists. Perhaps this is a perfect time to step back and take a good look at history. It seems to have a way of repeating itself.

Thank you Lorie, for your insight. It seems we all have a lot to learn about each other. Let us never tire in this endeavor.

Bingo!

Two Choices: Change or Don't Change
Two Choices: Change or Don't Change

“If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading.” – Lao Tzu

Look, I know you’re insanely busy, which is exactly why a very smart person will reread Lao Tzu’s thought several more times.

Avoiding purposeful, reflective thinking is like avoiding regular exercise and wise diet choices.

Mom Lost Her Keys

The All-American Family...
The All-American Family...

Our newest Guest Blogger at Mid Life Celebration, Connie Wright, returns today for her second installment of a story that will sound familiar to many of you. Take it away Connie:

Family started arriving 3 days before my nephew’s wedding; being the closest family member to the church and reception – I became the hotel for some and restaurant for many more. The house filled with 10 “residents” and dinners were for 20 or more. Days started early and ended late.

Mom celebrated in all the people coming and going – she had missed activity in her life the past few months. Life in Pennsylvania was quieter as she shut down the house; some stayed away because they thought that was what she wanted (and in the beginning she thought she did want people to stay away) and others stayed away because – well – you know- after you say you’re sorry about Malcolm dying – what do you talk about – the rest seems so trivial?

As the house filled with people, she caught up with family and visited with cousins. She liked the puttering of clean up “it gives me something to do”. My sister and I took her to the art museum where our great, great, great.. grandmother’s portrait hangs. Painted by Sully, a famous painter in the early 1800s, it was exciting for her to see the portrait. It was a busy week.

As the crescendo of noise and flow of people increased, Mom decided maybe she should put some of her cash in a safe place and move her keys to another safe place. But she didn’t tell anyone she was doing this.
Now I am blessed that at 85, Mom has her wits about her. She writes notes to help her remember, but most of the time – that simple act seals the memory and the notes aren’t needed. But she is passing through into another phase of her life and with it so am I.

There was a time when I harbored the unrealistic idea that if everything came crashing down in my world, I could grab what was most important and “go home”. Now I am that refuge for my mother. She will head to Florida on her own, but she knows it is borrowed time and it will be her; not me; grabbing what is most important when things start to crash down. I will be her safe harbor should she need it.

She remembered where she put her money, but the keys are a precursor and very symbolic of what will be next. How long can she drive? Will it be years or months of independent living? She worries now about when that time will come, how she will handle it and what it will mean. She did so much for my father these past few years as his illness made him so very fatigued, she gracefully moved him into that phase without making anyone aware of that. She knows it will be less subtle for her. She will be losing her keys; only this next time it will be “for keeps”.

Thank you Connie for your touching and poignant story. Living in Florida for the past 27 years, I’ve observed the choices seniors make, and don’t make. It would almost seem that simple exercise, like walking, would allow seniors to be some of the healthiest people around.

How Cool Was That?

Ohhhhhhhhhhh
Ohhhhhhhhhhh

Good Monday morning everyone. Not sure where to begin. So many thoughts racing through the cranium. Did you notice it, over the weekend? The change.

How did you remember 9.11?

It will seem trivia to some, and to others, it was major, and, drastic.

And it happened on a day in history that was major and tragic.

September 11.

9/11

After nearly 18 months writing 5-blogs-a day, everyday, I stopped, on 911, to pause and reflect.

More on this story tomorrow. Meanwhile, I’m heading over to Lane8.org to write today’s 2nd post.

AARP Tips On Will Writing

Ok, no one likes to talk or think about this, but now is exactly the time, when you don’t need to, to write or revisit your will.

AARP has a great resource in this article. Besides the 10 tips for writing a will, there are additional resources for anyone in midlife, particularly busy baby boomers and Gen x-ers.

The hardest part of writing my will seven years ago, was where would our son (then 3) go if my wife and I both died?

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