Blood moon soon and lunar eclipse no wonder the cosmos
Is cracked and two thoughts don’t have a period
I took a doctoral class heavy on theology. The first paragraph of the book we studied was one sentence
Out of 7 students I was the only female.
When we touched some theory or statement of the author
The professor or one of my classmates would turn to me and say how do feminist Thealogians look at this
Classes were 4 hours in the morning and 3 in the afternoon
And rightly so it often was. But i only claimed to answer for myself.
The second day I stopped trying to answer for “all feminists” and said I can only answer from my own perspective. There isn’t a single response to every issue. I said how would boys respond.
That question stopped. To be honest i came to think they
Really wanted to know if my view was innately different
This embroidered pillow was a Christmas gift from Nanni (Gladys McGarey). This close-up is so wonderful. I can see her sitting in her chair by her AZ sunlight filled window. For her that was the perfect place for her to do her handwork.
Knitting, embroidery, all kind of handwork. Beautiful gifts. Each stitch —a Prayer.
In this Season of Lent in the Christian tradition, we are encouraged to take on a discipline to enrich our relationship to our Creator.
We are encouraged to pause more, pray more, and breathe more. We are encouraged to look for the flowers wherever you can find them. To leave some flowers on the desk of someone who needs to know they are important especially if they don’t feel heard or valued.
I think I am going to make notecards from the pillow work photos of the worMom accomplished Nanni created.
Enjoy the flowers friends and even more ——pass some on…
So I had a dream and NOT A DREAM this morning … Reoccurring THEME DREAM that always made me feel guilty because of past failure that I kept reviewing, ‘I was at college and not going to class and not passing and not probably going to graduate and lying to my parents about how things were going, I had an exam but hadn’t been to class etc. I wasn’t going to get to the right classroom and didn’t know prof name and…. Guilt almost overwhelming
with failure.’
It was the kind of dream when I thought I was awake – but that was part of the dream. — even when I thought I was awake I wasn’t. And so anxiety remained in full force. How would I face my kids. My people… myself I was a fraud. O
I woke, for true, enough to realize it was a dream. But I still felt the guilt for what I had done. …whatever that was…
Then I realized that the dream couldn’t have been true or I would t have graduated from Vanderbilt and McCormick. Have a Rev. And. A Dr.
And some how I heard the line from QUEER Eye when they were talking to the gay pastor saying…to him. ‘Why is God’s grace not for you, child of God?’
But that was spoken to me.
Why do I – Carry around the Old guilt for anything. God’s grace and forgiveness is for everyone. Me too. Hail Mary Full of grace..and some of that grace is for me.
It was a lifting… an epiphany… a wondrous time- a lifting.
“And Christ still sends me roses. We try to be formed and held and kept by him, but instead he offers us freedom.
It had been a long hard year. Things had changed from one Thanksgiving to this one. It was, in fact, the first one after the divorce. All the kids who could had decided to be with Mom for that first Thanksgiving. Analea had come with her partner from CA and John and I and the Kids came from Texas and the AZ folk were there too.
We were making the best of it.
The traditional, yummy, Thanksgiving feast was prepared in generous and traditional ways. Sweet potatoes with marshmallows, Mashed white potatoes, (something green) probably string beans, and of Course the beauty of the pure simple Turkey and gravy. Desert was there and a good time was had by all. Almost/
The India dishes were brought out and the table set. The Bull platter was used again for the turkey. We feasted and laughed and feasted some more.
I think this was the year we had a go-cart running on the dirt road in Casa Grande. Betsy had survived a big ride over the side of the road hanging on to the go cart as it bounced in the air because the brakes weren’t working.
We were making the best of it. We didn’t know The Best was yet to come! We had all noted, however, that as the day progressed Mom got more and more quiet and sad. She wasn’t standing up straight as usual. (Add deep sigh.)
We had eaten, hand washed the India dishes, and were putting things away before we had dessert.
As the “Bull Platter”was being dried Mom told the story one more time about having sent Bill to the store in Wellsville to get a turkey platter and he came home with this one. A Bull with anatomy to prove it. She held the platter up. She just kept looking at it.
I said to Mom I think you should get rid of that platter, because in the retelling you obviously got sad recalling all the other family meals that it had been used. I remembered it from every time she brought it out when I was part of the family. Every time.
I suggested she throw it away. No, it’s still a good platter, Mom said. I
said well give it to someone at the office or some where she won’t really know where it is. We suggested she give it to the sweet girl who cleaned her house. Analea agreed right away that passing it on was a good idea. But it was dried, put back in the sideboard.
We ate dessert and still found laughter and stories to bring us solace.
Everyone left but those of us staying at the house.
Mom went to bed early. Sad and really tired.
Analea and partner and John and I were up still up talking, Johnny and Betsy, asleep.
Mom appeared out of her room and went into the garage area. We had seen her come out but at first didn’t see she came prepared.
Mom found a heavy mallet/hammer and a shovel.
She had on her moccasins and a scarf tired around her forehead.
Come over here she said.
She had scarves/headbands from all around the world for each of us including John. We tied them around our brows. She had her Bible and handed it to me. Bring the shovel she ordered John. He did.
She had candles for all of us. We stood on the patio and lighted the candles. She reached in the sideboard and pulled out THE PLATTER.
Follow me! Mom said, and we did.
I started singing Shama Nanni. Shama Nanni Hey Hey Hey Good bye. Everyone joined in as we processed.
(Fyi What does Shama mean biblically? to hear, to listen
It means to give attention, to understand, to submit to, and to obey. There is only one word in Hebrew for obedience, and it is this word – shama. This Hebrew word is also generally translated as “hear”.)
We followed Mom out into the back of her desert yard. Crystal, her dog, had dug a big hole. Mom had commented on it earlier wondering what Crystal had planned for it.
Mom turned to me “Bobbie, Now read something from the Bible.”
I turned to Psalm 50
The Mighty One, God the Lord, speaks and summons the earth from the rising of the sun to its setting.
Verse 9. I will accept no bull from your house
We all laughed while I wondered if I could lose my ordination over this natural forming ritual.
Mom put the platter in the hole so it was suspended over the hole.
She declared, “This is for you breaking your vows over the years.”
Whack Whack Whack. The sound was amazing in the silent desert night.
She handed the hammer to Analea who made her own declaration, and the hammer was passed around. Each time the crack was amazingly loud as the platter was broken again and again. It went around twice to all the Gathered Ones. Every once in a while someone said, I will accept No Bull from your house.
Fill it in…and she pointed to John who quickly filled in the hole with the surrounding sand and packed it down. Mom tipped her candle and dripped wax on the top. We all did the same.
But then she put down her candle and she danced in her moccasins on top as we sang Shama Nanni again.
She stopped. Declared it was time to go inside. Ritual was over. We followed her in. Once inside she gathered the scarf head bands, gave all of us a kiss and went to bed.
We stood there together in a kind of wonder.
The next morning we all got up and were eating breakfast that Analea had cooked. Mom came out of her room looking radiant. Really no other word fits to describe her. She said she hadn’t slept much but that was ok. She said that was ok because she had spent the night going over the Good-good times and years she and Bill had built together. She said she thought of each of the kids and families and had to be proud of their accomplishments.
She said once she “Buried the Bull” the Good times dominated her thoughts.
She looked so much younger than she did the whole of Thanksgiving day and remained peaceful.
Oh there were hard times to come again and sadness would come some time but from then on there was a shift. There was a freedom she had that she would not lose in the years ahead.
I did a lot of work on Women and Ritual. But it all started with Shama Nanni
Thanks Mom. Aka Dr. Gladys Taylor McGarey
We made it through the Last First Thanksgiving and her Birthday after she is gone from us)
What Followed
This ritual I had written up for the introduction to my Doctorate of Ministry Project. I knew the story had power when was sitting in a national Presbyterian Youth meeting when I was with a group of pastor chaperones. I had never met any of them. I said, “I am Bobbie McGarey.” A colleague yelled across the room… “Are you THE Bobbie McGarey? Your paper saved my life.” After the meeting was over she and I sat outside talking and she told me how it had given her freedom when she was going through a divorce. I wanted to know how she got a copy and she said that one of the two advisor professors had given it to her and several other clergy women who were going through divorce. I was surprised by this as I hadn’t been asked or given permission for this preface to my Doctor of Ministry project to be shared. I was happy that it had helped them.
At a National Presbyterian Women’s Meeting I used it to begin my workshop on Ritual. “Ritual, Pastoral Care, and Women in Mid-life Transitions” was the title of that Doctoral Project. I did a lot of study on ritual and it’s importance in times of transition. I even have a method for individuals to determine their own rituals. Not everyone needs to break a platter. Nor would it be appropriate.
I sent150 postcards with two questions on it to the Presbyterian Women’s National gathering a few years later. and asked folk attending to pass them out. I got 124 responses. I asked. 1) What transitions have you experienced in your life? 2) How did the Church help you mark that time. The responses could only be so long because of the space on the cards. But many of the responses were heart touching because the question seemed to resonate with the women. I deduced that to be true because I got so many responses. They wanted to share.
Because of some odd to me theological shift from my advisors on my Project and their abandoning their support and the time last time I met with them they suggested I write a whole chapter on Feminist Theology, which was not the point of my project, I pulled out of that program. The paper is essentially finished. (The sign that I was not going to progress was when one professor said, “It says here that rituals resonate with women… what in the world does resonate mean? “ They both shook their heads in disbelief.
I did complete a Doctorate at a different seminary with a new topic, using the internet to connect clergy women in isolated ministry locations using online Lectio Divina.
Thanksgiving is this week. It will be the first thanksgiving since Mom, Gladys T McGarey, died. Add to that her birthday is Friday, she would have been 104. She died in God’s good time. Too soon as far as my heart says.
Firsts and grief go hand in hand. I recall telling people it was their Last First…Thanksgiving, Birthday, Christmas, New Year….
When my Daddy died in April my Mom came from living on her own to our house for Christmas. I watch as she visually got more and more sad. Finally after dinner was done she went into her room. I followed her. She was crying. She said, “I know it is crazy but somehow I thought he’d come back at Christmas. I’m not loosing it Bobbie…it just seemed like the only possible thing was that could come back on Christmas.
My Sister in Law Analea died in Mom’s arms the Sunday before thanksgiving about 2 am. At 4 pm that evening we had her memorial service. I was asked by mom to lead the service and preach. Somehow by the grace of God we held the service. Many of the siblings were already in town as we had gathered around her days before she died. Several family members also participated, reading a poem and scripture. I hadn’t slept for over 24 hours but that rush of energy that comes sometimes in times of tragedy had jumped in and carried me through. Everyone had had their time to grieve. But it wasn’t my turn yet.
Thanksgiving week was ahead of us and Mom said she wanted a traditional meal with the family around the table. So that seemed to be the plan. I had asked several times if there was any part of the meal that I could cook, sides, or vegetables or whatever. No, I’ve got this.
To be honest i love cooking Traditional Thanksgiving Meal. Even if it was for 25. As a minister we’d often have large groups of folks to our house asking people to bring whatever dish they traditionally had on their home tables. We got some great offerings.
Well Monday, Tuesday, passed by I know I offered at least once more to help. No.
Wednesday our daughter, who had cooked thanksgiving with me many times had to return to school so we took her to the plane. On our way home, sad because of all that had gone before and having to say goodbye to her, we entered the grocery store and called home to ask if there was anything that was needed for the dinner, more butter, rolls, etc.
John had made the call. He came back to say that the person who was supposed to cook the family meal, that Mom was counting on, they weren’t going to be able to cook. They were too sad.
Standing in the Safeway when John told me this was the only thing that prohibited me screaming at the top of my lungs in frustration and anger. There was no time for that! 25 for dinner in less than 24 hours, Maybe we should just go out for the dinner but the cost for that many people and the unlikely chance we could get a reservation the day before over whelmed me.
We will do this. We called the house and said we would cook.
We wanted to get a good priced turkey. Oh sure they were discounted…but frozen like a rock and didn’t have time to thaw and cook. So we were trying to figure out what to do and John asked the Deli if they had any cooked turkeys for that many…no all the prepared ones were sold. But she did have three medium sized ones. They were the kind that were ready to finish in the home oven for an hour…already 1/2 cooked. We bought three. We bought all the other fixings, sides, and goodies and went home. I sat down with a pen and a paper and made a plan of what had to be cooked…when. I cooked what I could the night before and got up at 5 to coordinate the rest. Oh and did I say we had two ovens to cook everything.
. Before we ate, Mom had gathered us in the living room and had us hold hands and she prayed a beautiful prayer of thanksgiving for all of us gathered there but especially for the spirit of Analea that infused our life with love and hope and joy and who we were all missing terribly. She would have cooked this meal if she had been there.
Miracles happened and planning and partly cooked turkeys, and we had an amazing dinner. Mom thanked me over and over, for years, for cooking that meal for the family because we all were sitting at the table to a delicious meal.
A couple of the siblings chipped in on the cost of the food which really helped. Some came over early to help cook and get it all together. It was a triumph. I was so thankful. I was so exhausted and still really sad.
It was the Last First Thanksgiving without Analea. A time, that even with a touch of drama, had worked out.
So I say to you now if this is a First Thanksgiving with out someone you love. Remind yourself of the memories, laugh, tell stories, remember the ones missing as you are gathering warmth in your heart. And please please please be gentle with yourself.
Remember Love is the finest ingredient in every family, apply it generously and often.
God Abides, and I thank God. We miss you Mom. Everyday.
Bobbie Giltz McGarey
November 22, 2024
YouTube…. Listen to a song from the Civil War era… We will meet but we will miss him.
Seems silly of me not to be writing sharing all the thoughts that are filling my brain. Thoughts about Mom. Missing her especially when the good times come. When one of the grand kids say something I know she would love. When something That sets the adults into giggles trying to be suppressed so the kids don’t think we are laughing at them.
A small one clasping my knees asking me not to go… anywhere without him. The smallest yelling every week when we near the church. I LOVE CHURCH!
The oldest being compassionate and observant and calling us all to loving more.
The middle filled with wisdom and a keen observer of life. His proclamations rock the world. Love is the greatest power!
Holding hands when we pray before each meal. God bless everyone. It is awe bringing.
Answering questions and helping them to form new questions. If you can frame your questions right you will succeed in your life.
Suddenly interrupted in thinking.
I think I am having trouble dying because I love life so much! Gladys McGarey 2 days before she died.
Dr Gladys McGarey, My mother in law, died on Saturday October 28, 2024. Life Completed. It was in God’s Good Time. Deep sigh
It is now up to you.
Worship Service to Celebrate Her Life will be conducted October 25, 2024. 2,pm at Desert Palms Presbyterian Church in Sun City West, AZ. All are welcome.
Mom, Gladys, Nanni has always been an amazing person. She has been filled with Grace and Goodness. She could reframe a problem into an opportunity. She laughed. She loved her children fiercely—and loved others who were blood related or related by love. She had 6 children she birthed, and many others who benefited from her wisdom and courage.
She would be the first one who would shun being set up as a saint. She would rather be remembered by always working to bring Love and Caring into this world. When you met her you felt a shift in your life Thank you. Nanni. The grandparent name her first grandson Gabriel gave her.
She didn’t die of ‘something’. She stopped breathing after she crossed over-birthed into the arms of her beloved family who have gone before. She crossed over into the arms of her precious Analea who died in Mom’s arm 17 years ago.
Bittersweet is the way I feel it. However I decided to re-read her book, The Well Lived Life, with her having completed hers.
The six days before I sat beside her with my coffee. “Bobbie, I have done many things in my life.” She listed them ending with her final book that she learned was being translated into a second Chinese language. She said she “needed to know her next project.” She sighed neither sad or disappointed, but curious. “I just don’t think I have the energy for another adventure. Wait, I know, Crossing The Vail.” She paused and seemed to be at peace. She then said, “Now what is my schedule for today?” And she gently walked through 5 days later. Listening to the hymn, All is Well with my Soul..”
No doubt I will be writing more about her. For now…
God Abides and that is Good News,
Love
Bobbie Giltz McGarey October 9, 2024, Scottsdale AZ
If you want to leave a message please write on the Foundation For Living Medicine webpage.
“She Charges $550 for 90 Minutes and Has a Wait List of 7,600 Pet psychics are making their way from the fringe to socially acceptable . .Wall Street Journal Nov. 13, 2023 by Katherine Bindley
Pet psychics are making their way from the fringe to socially acceptable. Those who tell others about their experiences with animal communicators say they are more likely to be asked for referrals than be mocked. t is perhaps a natural progression in a world where guinea pig spa services exist. “
Hello Friends. Well while I had left overs from dinner, Egg,Sausage, and Pancakes, for breakfast this morning… , I stumbled on an article linked to my news from a 2023 article in Wall Street Journal. ( For a minute I contemplated who was handed this to research or was she just lucky or had a friend recommended a ‘reading’ for her dog. Insert deep sigh.)
However as a retired person, I thought, “Hey is this a new opportunity for me for some extra income?” ( It is an interesting article but I didn’t find a way to put a link here, (sorry) but I’m sure you can find it online.)
I mean really I think I might have some gift in this area. My dog, Sweet 19 year old Annie, can look at me through her cataract covered eyes and get me to give her some of whatever it is I’m eating. I have no choice. Or our dog Gala who has the most intense big blue eyes and sends messages to my heart saying, clearly, “I am a sweet dog that deserves a treat.” I mean look at her – can you not see that?
Still there is young Winnie Kitty who with her calico-on-cream coat lying back on the table looking at you though pale green eyes and telling you, “I am just stretched out here until you fill my water dish, please….”
So I won’t bore you with what the other cats, or parakeets, or chickens, have me doing. (To be truthful I’ve had only minimum luck with the chickens as they can’t stay still long enough for me to connect.) I mean I think I’ve made my point about my qualifications to be a pet psychic—- Right? So what if I have an Ohio State BSc degree, a Vanderbilt Divinity school, Mdiv, or a McCormick Theological School D.Min, (Doctor of Ministry) degree. I think this may be an outlet for my time when my grandchildren are otherwise occupied. It would some pretty hefty part-time income. After all if I got some clients, say in India, I could do my work at night with their animals. The good part is I think Hindi language animals would in the psychic realm just be automatically translated.
(Wait, a psychic would know that already, right? Yup I think so. I always laugh when I see a psychic house sign that says, ‘walk-in welcome’. I mean of course they are! I mean if they don’t start with, “oh there you are!” Turn around. )
Ok well I’m going back to reading the news, but I didn’t have to tell YOU that right!
When I remember summers of think of the times when my best neighbor buddy, Susie Keseg, and I would go to the Ohio State Fare. My mom would drop his off about. 9:30 and we’d spend the day, the whole day at the fair and meet our ride home at an appointed time. We were never late to the gate.
B
It was so much fun. I don’t know how much money we took as we got an all event pass. I do know we had enough for a couple of drinks, maybe one Cotton candy, and a hotdog for lunch. If I remember right we would only go on the Ferris Wheel once or twice the whole time we went. We would always go through the arts and crafts barns, where there were demonstrations, and people’s crafts, quilts, crochet, knitting. We would go into the places where the women were showing their pies and cakes and looked for the ribbons the next day. We would go to the Radio station WBNS and wait for our favorite guys, Bill Hamilton and Fritz Parenboom. They would do a show and play music and chatter with the crowd. I don’t remember if we ever had the nerve to speak to them directly. They did a folk music show and a jazz show on Saturday nights. Yes, it was the early 60’s.
Susie and I were in Jr. High. But, we spent most of our time in the livestock barns. We would wander through the barns looking at all the animals, farm, cats, dogs, rabbits, and hogs. We would watch 4H kids showing their animals that were often bigger than they were. What we knew about the hogs is the later in the week you went through the hog barn the stinkier it got. Susie and I once almost ran thru and on the other side she stopped and said Hey! I had a really stuffy nose and I can breathe Now!
We were in Jr. High. We were young to be set loose in the Ohio State Fair by ourselves. But in the early 60’s we weren’t. Now I don’t think I would let my granddaughter do that alone with a friend. It wasn’t about our being trustworthy or not. It was about what the world felt like..was like.
I am thinking about this now as we consider what we are going to do this summer. Sigh
Let’s all work to make this world a safer place, a kinder place, a fun place, a justice filled place, a Peaceful place.
The children of Gaza don’t wonder what time Daddy might be home…they wonder if he will come home. There is work to do.
Internationally known as the founder of analytical psychology. DR. CARL G. JUNG is a Swiss who look his medical degree at the University of Zurich and did graduate work at the University of Paris, 1902-1903. His books hare been published in nine languages. This essay‚ which will be amplified in book form, was submitted through the kind offices of Dr. Carleton Smith of the National Arts Foundation.
— Read on www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/1957/11/god-the-devil-and-the-human-soul/642861/
The Spirit Will Tell You 