Friday, December 28, 2012

LOVE, LIGHT, LIFE

(This was also posted on Dec 23, 2012 on my FB page . . .)
Good morning, Beloved of ALL THAT IS LOVE!

Whatever your ethnic origin, faith, philosophy or "-ology," this is the time, wherever you are (in the Northern Hemisphere of the Third Rock from the Sun), we all will see that however deep and long the night, even the smallest amount of light is triumphant.

If you can't see or discern any light/life/love, let me reassure you that it is THERE.

Perhaps it is behind you, or over your left shoulder, out of sight.

If so, please start to look 360 degrees from the epicenter where you stand (or stand up if you are not vertically oriented).

Plant one heel under you and push off with the ball of the other foot and watch as you make a circle around your self.

If you don't see any light yet, please just wait ten minutes and try, try try again.

If you are in sorrow, despondent or in despair, please tell your sore, tired heart to take to take a rest.

Someone is coming with a candle and as you see the flame brighten and rise, you may come to know that the One whose star has appeared and risen in the East has come and continues to come to dispell the darkness of sorrown pain, grief, oppression, poverty and evil.

The Light of the World indeed has come and continues to come.

Love and Light and Life, Hope and Mercy and Grace are available to all people.

It wouldn't make sense to a resident of Polynesia if you told her or him that the only divine power must be known and worshipped only the way the people of the tundra, taiga and complete cold and snowy winters.

The Divine Light/Life/Light calls each individual in his or er language, out of the context of geographic location and conditions, culture, history, mind set and world view.

This individual, completely unique relationship with the Creator exists for each person but is only received when a person unlocks and opens the door to her or his heart.

May all the Love, Light, Comfort and Joy that waits for you become fully yours as you feel led to ask questions, demand proof, or whatever is necessary to unlock doors, break down walls, and un-shutter the windows of your soul so that the warmth of the "Light of Lights" will begin to grow in your heart, today and always, tonight and forever more.




Kathleen Ware Harris  © 2013
kwharris777@gmail.com

Visions of Sugar Plums . . .

THIS WAS POSTED ON MY FB PAGE ON CHRISTMAS EVE 

Just finished watching "Holiday" with Kate Winslet, Cameron Diaz, Jack Black and Jude Law. ( "Chick Flick" if you ever saw one, but we DID have a lot of football on off and on today . . .) ;-)

"Darling, you oo ooh, send me! Honest you do, honest you do, honest you do!l"

All is calm, all is bright . . . *

***

*****!

It's an hour and twenty minutes into Christmas Eve. At the 21st TFW of Alaskan Air Command of the '80s, the F-15 guys and the T-33 guys (along with other kinds of pilots and aircrew and the other NORAD folks, would be airborne and on the ground with their eyes pealed and radars attuned for a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer . . . with a little ol' driver so lively and quick, that they would know in a moment, it MUST be Saint Nick!

And then they would publish the news abroad . . . To all the world.

((Thanks!))

Here's to trusting that there are visions of sugar plums dancing in your head!




Kathleen Ware Harris  © 2013
kwharris777@gmail.com

Saturday, December 22, 2012

The Crack of the Bat . . .

shs wow -- cinderella crack of bat at wrigley field as lights being put up- fall of "87, Chicago -- Susan Clark in Sarasota -- Mrs Alex Karras.

Meet you at the Big Silver Bean right north of the Art Institute -- you can walk all the way to Lake Michigan or to Buckoingham Foiuntain through parks and across bridges -- urban parks and parking lot built over ICU train yards.

Really.

PTA AZ -- From Aquarium to Zoo -- where do you go to see the Christ Star by leaning your head back? Where can you get Swedish Fruit Soup AND see a puppe show where when the lights come up u r a GIANT.

Where is the one step staircase one story high?

What color is the castle covering the pump?

Where was the Chicago Historical Society?

What holiday did Ferris have a parade?

Meet me at the corner of Wabash and North Michigan Avenue or at the entrance to the Skyway near 15th St and Stony Island.

River crossed by the Singing Bridge fron Blue Islad to South Holland?

Good Luck!



Kathleen Ware Harris  © 2013
kwharris777@gmail.com

The Big Chill

Good morning, Beloved.

I'm hoping that you are feeling like you are wrapped in delicate fleece and that you are already listening for Harold's Angels. I'm not sure, but I thought I heard them this morning, way far off.

Since I had a serendipitous "Sabbath" by surprise, I have been incommunicado and cloaked in an elvish cape or kinda like a Stealth Grandma from about mid-afternoon through this morning at 5:30am.

And it's the first time since my Mom passed that I have opened my eyes from sleep, could either breathe (asthma comes on the wings of the reaction to mold) or not be in pain -- and slept more than 1-- 3 hours or so in a row since 1:11am on 12/11/12 when my Mom's Spirit flew away from that room in the nursing home. (With the angels from the clouds of Glory singing.

I beg to differ with His Holiness. Maybe it's like he has been too long in the bubbled, sound proofed Pope-mobile too long. I honor and respect him, but maybe it' like that time in the cold, darl dead of winter in (maybe) late Feb, 1985 when Rowdy was the guy who was supposed to contact me when the Wing got recalled for an exercise at oh-dark-thirty, AKA 0030, AKA 2:30am for you civilian types but the phone was in the kitchen and the landlord would NOT let me put any holes in the wall so Rowdy either didn't call (he could be mean to me like that) or I didn't hear it, (I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt) . . . But anyway, I got to work at the usual time, 0730 (7:30am/9:30PM Zulu time) . . . And almost EVERYbody on Base, on land, in the seas and in the air had been there since 0300/3am/0000 or 0100Z). And talk about "on the ceilling! Wow. My boss, Rocky (NOT Rocket J. Squirrel was on the ceiling. And I just looked blandly back at him when he asked, almost screaming, but trying not to, "WHERE IN THE H-E- double HOCKEY STICKS HAVE YOU BEEN?"

"Please calm down, Sir. When the balloon REALLY goes up (all out thermo-nuclear war or whatever leads to it) . . . Well . . . Not everyone is going to get the message right away."

Rocky calmed down a bit and just said I had better get over to HQ PDQ or else I would be SOL.

I'll send you the "Glossary of Terms" sometime soon.

The first and most wonderful "Superman" movie just came on -- AMC HD.

If you are worried about this zoomie stream of consciousness kind of thing, just pick up a copy of James Joyce's "Ulysses," or read Faukner's "The Sound and the Fury," or "Look Homeward, Angel" by Thomas (I am mixed up whether it's Wolfe or Stryon or who, sorry) . . . Or get a copy of "Rain Man" from The Red Box or on Netflix, etc. And read or watch . . .

When I was in an Honors English Class as a freshman at The University of Illinois in Champaign-Urbana (where 9 Nobel Prize winners were teaching, where celluoid film and touch screen computer screens were developed, where the third largest library in the world after the Library of Congress, etc, is, and you could walk from The Student Union toward the other end and find Iranian exiles yelling and screaming about the Shah, where there were statues all over where Abraham Lincoln had spoken, and where you could see kids with t-shirts that said, "Harvard -- The University of Illinois of the East Coast) (And, honestly, I didn't mean to offend ANYone, but when you understand that you go to school where they felt they needed to build the new Undergraduate Library two stories down into the ground with a courtyard in the middle so that there would not be a building that cast a shadow on the Oldest Experimental Cornfield in the world, you have to realize that you don't need to travel "Through the Looking Glass for things to get quite surreal)

It was in the fall of 70, a few months after the students had finally had it after Kent State and everything and had occupied the University President's office AND the Armory) (among other places, so don't ever think for a moment that Baby Boomers don't know how to occupy places -- see the movie, "The Big Chill," esp when Tom Berenger's character says something like, "I couldn't believe that people of our age and our background would be acting like people from another generation, from the ESTABLISHMENT.")

(And Mary Kay Place's character, who is a lawyer who used to be a public defender but now works for a law firm like "LA LAW" or "Boston Legal," answers him saying something like, "Welcome to my world.)

("Superman just got too violent . . . I hadda turn it off. I have a "one-woman show" called "The Gospel According to Saint Baby-Boomer.". Schedule it for Sunday Schools, receptions, grammar school, high school, college events, Bar and Bat Mitzvah's after the part when the bride and groom are sitting in chairs held high above everyone's head -- see "Fiddler on the Roof" or the Chagall painting from "Notting Hill" -- a print of which hung in are living room when we were growing up . . . )

Okay, okay!

(Back to here and now -- Marietta Ga, 12:25pm EDST, 21 Dec 2012)

By mistake I left my cell phone at Krista's around 3:30pm yesterday, Dec 19, 2012, when she took me over to a hotel 1/2 between Marietta and ATL. It had been raining and the leaf mold and mushrooms were blooming and glowing (or growing, or whatever it is) better than any edelweiss patch in all of the Alps or whenever. When it gets like that, the only way NOT to feel like I have just had 17 cups of coffee and am hanging from a chandelier (JUST like the absolute WORST hangover you've ever had . . .) Hmhmhmm ( . . . scroll back and find that YouTube link from Katharine Hepburn, Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant in "The Philadelphia Story," when the character that plays Katharine's little sister goes over to pick up their Uncle Willy in the basket of a pony cart and he says to SOMEBody, (something like), "This is the kind of day that the pages of history teaches us is best spent in bed!"

It's been like that.

Heading to the jacuzzi.

See ya later, alligator!

Ciao, bellissima!



Kathleen Ware Harris  © 2013
kwharris777@gmail.com

Just SAYIN' . . .

Most of the time, in my humble opinion, (and I am all for helping people, and some of my best friends are Africans and Chinese and former Soviets) -- the main difference between rich people and poor people is that the rich people think they are entitled to everything and the poor people don't.

(I don't care who decided this when all they do is point fingers at one another and say, "He started it anyway."). It doesn't make any sense to:

1) Give the Chinese all (or most) of your factories and jobs,

2) Give all the money and Peace Corps people and doctors and medicine that used to go to the babies and kids and people in Africa (and other 2/3 world countries) give them to the people of the Former Soviet Union and other former Warsaw Pact Nations. It's just plain mean, and

3) It's ABsolutely RIDUCULOUS not to have the capability to put people and supplies into orbital ans sub-orbital space and to leave it to the folks at Baikonour (the former Soviet Space Port in the middle of the Kazakh Desert.

And if one more person tells me that she/he doesn't agree with me that (in no particular order)

A) North Korea is a puppet state of China,

B) the Communist Party has plenty of everything and the names of people and things have just been changed in the Russian Empire,

C) the benefits of Space exploration include cardio-vascular medical advances, solar energy cells, better insulation on electrical wiring (and that was thanks to what they did AFTER astronauts Grissom, White and Chaffee perished in a holocaust of their own) ETC, ETC. ETC,

D) and China has almost NO OIL anyone has found except maybe for some in the middle of the Gobi Desert where even where there ARE roads, the get covered over with sand a LOT, and

2) if the Communist leaders of China so desired, they could claim ALL of Central Asia the same way they have claimed Tibet and killed and imprisoned people and turned their holiest city into a place like Vegas or Monte Carlo or Rick's Cafe Americain (I just mean about the gambling part for Rick's).

Let's be real people.

It's just like Big Daddy says in "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.". It's MENDACITY.

Greed.

And if you think for one minute that those sweet babies and people in CT were alone when that evil was wreaked on them and everyone who loves them then you probably belong to the People of the Lie. And no offense meant, but honestly.

I know that the Spirits of all MY grandmothers were there, and I know that I know that I KNOW (thanks, John) -- that evil thinks it will win, but it's exactly like the end of "It's a Wonderful Life," and like the people who walked out of the concentration camps and lived to see their great-grand kids and the people on the planes and in the Twin Towers and at the Pentagon.

Even a night lite can't conquer the darkness.

You are never alone.

There really is evil.

There really ARE angels.

Your soul will live on eternally whether you choose to follow the light or not.

And those babies and people were protected and snatched away just like that apprentice angel did to Robert Montgomery's character in THAT version of "Heaven Can Wait," and just like Buck Henry's character did for Warren Beatty's character did in the second one on film.

And reality is reality.

What you believe affects how you live your life on earth, but what happens eteranlly is that your Spirir became incarnate here on Earth and your Spirit and your life experiences here form and inform your unique, once in forever soul, totally individual and distinct from any and every other soul in creation SO THAT you will be able to choose love and light and life, or not.

Believe it or don't.

Roger dodger, Chattermark saying, "Over and out."

Good night, Mrs. Calabash, Gracie, Beauregard Beamside III, and all the ships at sea.

;-)



Yeah!

I will have to pull out the "Life" magazine with the photo of boxes of cigarettes sold in VN in 1972 where there were Soviet brands as well as American brands.
  • Ciao, Belissima.


    Kathleen Ware Harris  © 2013
    kwharris777@gmail.com

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Honoring Our Mother


Nancy Roseanne DeRobertis Harris 

June 11, 1929 - Dec 11, 2012





While abiding in the Lord, or finding peace in whatever way we connect with the fullness of Love, our father, George Morris Harris, and all of us, her son and daughters, her grand children and her great grandchildren, are deeply missing the physical presence of our mother, 


 Nancy Roseanne DeRobertis Harris. 

Our dearly beloved Mother passed on to Glory on Dec 11, 2012, in the nurturing company of our Father, who had been rehabbing from hip replacement surgery in the same nursing home. They were able to spend those last weeks together, which was wonderful in so many ways. Mom passed away in a nursing Home in Sarasota, Florida, where she had spent most of the time since she broke her leg in February of 2010. 

While we completely rejoice over her home-coming to be with the Lord, with the angels who surround the Throne of Grace, and with our beloved family members and friends who have gone before us, we are also very relieved that Mom's suffering on Earth has indeed ended. We can't help but feel bereft of her physical presence, especially at Christmastime. 

We will celebrate our parents' 62nd Wedding Anniversary on Dec 23rd, 2012, with our mother in Spirit and our father still here on Earth.

Please pray for my Dad and for all of is, if you feel led. 


We are working on a Power Point Presentation, but for now you can see many photos on my Facebook page whether you belong to Facebook or not: 

https://www.facebook.com/kwharris777/photos_stream 

Some of us, but most likely not including Dad, may be at First United Methodist Church of Sarasota during the morning services, God willing.  So if you see us, we will be happy to draw aside and fellowship with you.


In lieu of flowers, please remember our sweet and beautiful mother by giving to one of the churches or charities dear to her heart.

 * * * * * 

Nancy and George Harris are lifelong Methodists. While growing up, my brother George, my sister, Jennifer and I we were all raised in the loving congregation of Barrington United Methodist Church, Barrington, Illinois. 


In each place they dwelled, they were part of the life of their local United Methodist congregation. They are members of Sarasota UMC for the last 20 years since our Dad retired. 


Our spouses, children, grandchildren and significant others join us in grief over Mom's passing. Those who mourn, but still have joy and gratitude for Mom's life include especially our brother-in-love, Jennifer's husband, Michael, their son, Chris, and their daughter, Chelsea. 

Our brothers' daughters Michelle, Brittany and Ashley, also know the blessings and joys of being grandchildren to our parents who could not be more loving. Brittany and her husband Bryan recently presented Mom and Dad with their ninth great grandchild, Evie. 

The other eight grandchildren, who are blessed to have our Mom and Dad for great grandparents are progeny of my wonderful kids. 

Krista and her husband, our son-in-love, Daniel, are parents to three boys.  

And my son, Tom, has three sons and two daughters. In order by age, they are Noah, Trevor, Andrew Alexis, Seth, Jude, Colin and Lily.

Significant others who are important to us include Melissa, Linnea, and Lisa. 

Our mother joins her parents, John and Donna DeRobertis, in the peace of the Lord. 

Her sister Marcia and brother-in-Love, Al were there to welcome her home, as were her brother John and sister-in-love, Jean, with their sweet daughter, Janie. 

Nancy has also joined her brother Dick and nephew Michael in the deep peace of Christ. 

The Host of Witnesses includes our father's parents, George and Annie; their daughters Millie, Katie, and Annie; their brother Ed and sister-in-love, Alice. 

Grand-nephew, Paul, sadly has also has been gathered up to Glory, but we rejoice that they are all together in the fullness of God's Grace and Peace in Christ Jesus. 

Their brother-in-Love, Ron is there, too.  He waits for George's sister, Betty, while watching over her and all their family members. 

Mom's and Dad's nephews still on Earth are John, Charles, Russel, Tom, Dick, Dan, Patrick, Ron, George, Jeff, Colin and Gary. 

Beloved nieces are Mary, Donna, Melinda, Cheryl, Marlene, Renee, Lynn, Chris, Suzanne and Missy. 

Our mother loved books, art, movies, the theater, history, culture and everything about people as individuals and as nations, except the cruelty and fear engendered by war and injustice. 

Her passion for books led her to be a rare book dealer who managed a store and ran a search service in Long Grove, Illinois. 

With the enthusiastic support of Dad, Mom also established and owned the Renascence Book Store in the Town of Harvard, Massachusetts (on the way to Amherst from Boston.) 

When our parents returned to northern Illinois from their eight year sojourn in Massachusetts, they lived again in the Barrington Area and in Evanston. 

We were very happy that Mom opened her Renascence Book Store in Barrington, too, and we always say that our parents have more books in their house than most small town libraries have. Mom often noted that she was never sorry she bought a book, but often regretted NOT buying one. 

Our parents love the Lord and served Him faithfully in many ways, not the least of which was bringing us up to know that we are loved by God, while encouraging us to develop our own relationship with the Divine and to serve people in the Spirit of Love, in whatever way we might find that is meaningful to us. We were taught to love people actively by giving of ourselves. 

I truly believe that the only way to love God who we cannot see, is to love the people brought into our lives.  We came to know God's love because of experiencing the fullness of Love because of their loving, supportive, and nurturing ways.  Both Mom and Dad were excited when I answered my call to ministry, when I felt led to be in mission in the former Soviet Union, and when I pursued the doctorate in Evangelism.  Through all the ups and downs of that journey for me and for my children, our parents have been our strong tower in the Lord.

For me, one of the most grace-filled relationships I have had in ministry has been that with the members of the Barrington United Methodist Church.

The Missions Committee members voted to pray for me and support the effort almost the minute they heard about it.

And with great joy and humility, I found the dream of my teen years come true when the United Methodist Women invited me twice to preach in the pulpit of my home church -- once before I spent five months in Kazakhstan and once afterward.


Through the Missions Committee members and the United Methodist Women of BUMC, the congregation also hosted a visit by the pastor and choir members of the first Russian-speaking United Methodist Congregation in the United States.  (I was blessed to be able to plant the seed, but Alexey and Viktoriya Karakcheyev watered it and faithfully helped it grow.  They were the first people the Lord brought to me when I started the outreach in 1998.)

Our parents were no longer traveling out of Florida at that time, but they loved hearing about the visit, seeing photos, and hearing their anthems and praise songs on CD.

A champion for the needs of children, birds and animals, Mom had a deep sense of beauty which she found in her husband; in her children and their talents; and in their extremely beloved grand children and great grand children. 

Both Mom and Dad delight in those kids they way they delighted in us, but with the pleasure and gift of being "grands" "great-grands".   

Their love has always been expressed in amazing ways -- through visits and gifts and trips . . . through support and nurture, no matter what kind of crisis or trouble might have come up . . . and through the singular adoring attention that unconditional love bestows on each beloved person. 

Mom and Dad appreciate the wonders and lovely surprises found in nature and  they took joy in traveling and getting to know people of various cultures around the world in actively caring ways. 

Mom helped to establish various community services in our town and area. She was involved with our church as a whole, and with the United Methodist Women in particular in supporting charities connected to the mission of the church to actively share the Gospel of Love proclaiming God's Grace and Mercy not just through words, but by deeds aimed at sharing that love at all times -- with family members, with neighbors, and with strangers.

These missions include orphanages and centers to serve the needs of people living in poverty, in Chicago, as well as other parts of northern Illinois.  One very special association continues today between the people of a public housing neighborhood in Chicago called Cabrini Green, and the members of the Barrington United Methodist Church members  They help and interact with each other not only through donations, but also through exchanges with youth groups, adult Sunday School classes, and societies.


Actively concerned with the welfare of indigenous people on reservations and with people in need of help abroad, we saw the reports about the charities come in the mail, and we were also aware of checks sent out in envelops that we brought up the hill to our rural mail box to be picked up by the USPS letter carriers. 


Along with our father, Mom supported the work of The Red Cross, and The United Methodist Committee on Relief (UMCOR). 



In addition, her passionate love for birds and animals went beyond our many pets over the years to support the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, The National Audobon Society, and the World Wildlife Fund. 




Mom also helped support The Koala Fund for which our cousins Renee and Dave tirelessly work.


If anyone feels led to honor Mom's memory, the best way to do that would be to support one of the churches or charities that she held dear to her heart.

After we all left for college, our mother joined our father on business trips and vacations, going around the world. 

They especially loved wandering around Italy, the British Isles, France and Israel, but they found all the people and places they visited fascinating. 

Mom's childhood dream of petting a tiger was fulfilled in Indonesia, where she also was able to pet a lion. Dad made posters of the photos from that dream fulfillment, and they hang one the walls of their house for all to see and enjoy. 

Wherever our parents went, they enjoyed the company of relatives, friends and traveling companions. 

They visited historical and cultural sites while enjoying the cuisines and taking in the theater, opera and concert opportunities. I am always touched by the knowledge that Mom loved the musical,"Chorus Line" and saw it performed in many different cities over the years. The song and dance number "One" truly describes our incredible and special Mom. 


 Because of Mom, our lives were filled with music, art, literature, plays, and outings to enjoy architecture. We sat squirming on Sunday afternoons while watching Leonard Bernstein's "Young People's Concerts" on television. Mom also bought us records teaching about each musical instrument of the orchestra. 

We all learned to play the piano, and while Jenny and George chose to move onto the clarinet, I fell in love with the violin. Mom sold the piano long after we gave up lessons, though. She got tired of hearing us and our friends play "Heart and Soul" and "Chopsticks." The Etians lived up the hill from us, and although George no longer took piano lessons a lifelong friendship with that family began when Jenny I an I waited for one another to finish the lesson while spending time with one beloved daughter of the house, who was also our first babysitter there. 

We often had family poetry readings when we could choose from many anthologies or other single volumes of poetry. Giggles of laughter accompanied "The Akond Of Swat" and "'Twas Brillig." Mom loved Emily Dickinson's Edna St. Vincent Benet's poetry as well as the Classical and Romantic British and American poets. I got to know and love Robert Frost's poetry, among others, but everything from limericks to ballads was allowed . . . from T.S. Eliot to Keats and Shelley, from e.e. cummings to Edward Lear.  

Once I was on a silent retreat day, walking in the woods along the western shore of the Chesapeake with the Communion and Healing Prayer group I belonged to at my home church in Washington, D.C.  All of a sudden, inspired by a dramatic vista in front of us, a friend and I started to recite Benet's "Renascence," by memory.  We were amazed and thrilled that we could both recite it together. 

That was thanks to Mom, joyfully encouraged by Dad. 

We also always read Dylan Thomas' "A Child's Christmas in Wales" on Christmas Eve.  Visiting friends like the Braithwaites joined us, and I have so many wonderful memories of holidays and other times with the many loving people in our lives. 


Mom and Dad love to play card games with us and with their friends.  George is the only one who has inherited mom's and Dad's love of Bridge, but as a family and with friends, we also played Pinochle, Mille Bornes, silly kids' poker games, and many other card games and board games. The evenings full of Bridge games with our parents' friends always included home-made pizza and falling asleep to the laughter and conversation with the people Mom and Dad love, both relatives and friends.  The following morning Jenny, George and I gleefully raided the refrigerator for leftover pizza. And there were always snacks and chocolate-covered chocolates still on the folding table in the living room.

Whenever we were on road trips to family picnics or just a Sunday drive somewhere, Dad enthusiastically taught us the history of Chicago, and often focused on the Labor movement. 

As we traveled, we delighted in being with Mom and Dad. 

There are several very special trips my kids remember well. The first was when Mom joined us in Tucson at Aunt Marcia's and Uncle Al's to accompany us on a road trip up the coast of California, Oregon and Washington to Seattle when we moved from Florida to Alaska for a new Air Force assignment during January of 1983. Then Mom flew with us to Anchorage, after we put our car on a ship. 

And in the summer of '83 when Mom and Dad met us in Las Vegas, spent time with them at places like, Caesar's Palace and Circus, Circus! 

Then in the summer of '84, both of my parents were able to come to Alaska to visit us. 

Krista, Tom and I had a great time with them when they came with us to Denali Park to see Mt McKinley up close and personal. They also toured the Kenai Peninsula, Portage Glacier, and the Alyeska Resort area. 


My sister, my brother and their families all have their own memories of special visits and trips. We also were blessed with many times when there with reunions with all of us and with members of our extended families either in Florida, in the Chicago area, or in Missouri. 

Some of our parents' dearest friends were their siblings and cousins, so we were only continuing the traditions of our very loving and wonderful extended family. It's just how we grew up. 

And there is no more joy we could have had than to be able to be together in good times and in sorrow, with our grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins in Chicago, Indiana, and Missouri. 

Our parents also maintained lifelong friendships with those they met in high school and in college; their neighbors in the West Pullman area and other parts of the Southside of Chicago; in Tower Lakes and the Barrington area; in Massachusetts; and on Longboat Key, Florida. 

They also especially treasured their brothers and sisters in Christ in the churches they joined. As I've already mentioned, Mom loved serving in the women's groups rummage sales because of the fellowship, and because of the chance to help people in need. 

Dad was involved in the United Methodist Men, too, and they always made sure we were involved in the activities and trips of the children's ministry and the youth groups. Our parents never failed to make sure we knew how proud they were of us, our children and our grandchildren no matter what we were going through in our lives. 

There are no more supportive parents anywhere. 

When we were growing up, Mom and Dad made friends with many of the parents of our pals. They also thoroughly enjoyed the books and the members of Great Books Discussions Groups in North Barrington and in Wellesley, Massachusetts when they lived in the Boston area for eight years in the early '80s. 

Mom comes by her love of movies honestly and our whole family shares it. 

In the 1920's our Grandma Donna, Mom's mother was working in the ticket booth of a movie house in Chicago owned by our great grandmother, Mamie Rose, along with Mamie Rose's sister, Daisy and her husband Lewis. Grandma Donna was fifteen years old when she sold a ticket to a young man who had immigrated to Chicago from Bari, Italy, with his family when he was six years old. Yep, you guessed it. That is our Grandpa John. 

I was blessed to go with friends to Ellis Island several years ago and saw my grandfathers name on the dedication wall. Grandma Donna had made sure they placed it inn memoriam to Grandpa. Our Mom was a wonderful cook, and since our family has a long tradition of abundant hospitality, we especially enjoyed entertaining friends and relatives who came to see us after we moved to Tower Lakes. from Chicago or wherever. Some of our parents dearest friends are the Braithwaites, the Dites, our next door neighbors the McBrides, and the Laaksos, who led us to Tower Lakes. 


Dr. Laakso worked with Dad and they were great friends. 

A time came in the late 50s when the City of Chicago allowed a new highway to be built that connected the interstates that converge there. It is called "The Dan Ryan Expressway", and in places it is 18 lanes wide. 

I don't know about now, but at the time it was the widest highway in the world. Many neighborhoods, stores and office buildings were torn down to make way for The Dan Ryan, including the building that housed the company where Dr. Laakso and Dad worked. 

And the Laaksos already lived in Tower Lakes, so the decision to move the research lab to Jewel Park in Barrington was helped along by his familiarity with the area.  

So even though we had looked at many homes in brand new housing developments as the Chicago suburbs were expanding through the 60's, the minute we came to Tower Lakes to visit the Laaksos, we knew we could not live anywhere else. 

As city kids we were amazed at the beauty of the lakes, rolling hills and trees. 

Being there reminded us of the summer we went to a Methodist family camp on Lake Geneva in Wisconsin and no place is more special to me. We often talk about that first drive between the entryway stone "towers" off Rt. 59. 

We heard each other "ooh and Ah" over each beautiful new view as the car wended its way on the roads surrounding the small lakes.

Other wonderful and loving friends of our parents include the Strouses, the Cooleys and the Prices. 

I know I am leaving precious people out, but please understand that we all loved all of our family friends and relatives very much.  We cherish visits with them as well as the memories of those who have already passed on. 

I am so grateful to think of the love waiting for Mom and how much she must be enjoying being with everyone. I can only imagine her in a place like a beautiful vineyard hung with Japanese lanterns. 

It has tables laden with delicious food and drinks that are placed between the rows of vines. Children gaily play as all the grown-ups laugh and joke, or talk together quietly, catching up with one another. 

The vineyard is on the edge of a beautiful mountain lake and a delicate pink Italian palazzo sits part way up the hill on the far side of the lake. The view reminds me of Lake Como. Growing up we had many wonderful family dinner celebrations dinners in a Restaurant called "Como Inn" in Chicago . 

Maybe that's why I can so easily envision what it might be like for Mom now, being welcomed home by everyone who loves her. 

In North Barrington in general, and for Tower Lakes in particular, the parents of our friends were like aunts and uncles. These included the Moms and Dads in the McBride Family and the Laakso families as well as the Kapros family, the Stockslager family and many others. 

A lifelong learner, our mother has an Associate of Arts degree from a Chicago community college.  She also studied Home Economics at The Illinois Institute of Technology, where she and our father met. 

Mom always said the reason she didn't finish the course work for other degrees was that she wasn't interested in the other required courses. 

At the same time, over the years she no doubt completed enough course credits in literature, art, culture, library science, and theater (among other humanities subjects) for at least several doctorates. 

Everywhere they lived Mom studied and often shared with us what she was loving to learn. 

As the three of us got older and went off to college, we often found books in our house that were connected with our own studies and raided them when we returned to our campuses. 

For example, one of the reasons I was led to learn Russian was that Mom had a dual-language paperback book of the poetry of Andrei Voznesensky, a 20th Century Soviet poet who spent time with the San Francisco poets of the 60s and 70s like Lawrence Ferlinghetti


Then, strangely enough, in the early days of Detente when I was studying Russian at the Univerisity of Illinos at Champaign-Urbana, Voznesensky came on a cultural exchange to read his poetry both in English and in Russian. I attended the poetry reading and reception even though I was exhausted from the student teaching I was doing that semester.heard him read his poetry our loud and I even took the time to go up and speak with him at the gathering after he read his poems.

I had the paperback Mom had given me to take to college and he was kind enough to autograph it for me. 

Some of his poetry reminds me of e.e. cummings, and there is a very wry and funny one called "The Nose." When I asked him to sign the book he turned to the page that had the poem in English on the left and in Russian on the right and dedicated it in Russian "To Katya from my nose!" 


The institutions where Mom enjoyed going to class, meeting new friends studying included, but were not limited to: 

The University of Chicago, 

Northwestern University, 

Wellesley College, and 

Harvard University. 

I so wish you all could have known my Mom, if you don't.  But I trust you will have that opportunity by and by. 

For those of you who do know and love our Mom and Dad, please let let us know if you want to visit. 

And please make sure that you know we will all be together in the Fullness of Joy when we gather at the River, by and by. 

Love never ends.  

The relationships we build and the love we share are all that lasts.  Earthquakes destroy towns and the tops of volcanoes explode.  People you just saw earlier in the day can no longer be with you on Earth by the evening.  

So please cherish everyone you love. 

And if there is anything that is keeping you from being at peace with a friend or family member, do something about it now.  Make peace, and you will receive the peace that passes all understanding in return. 

The joy we will know for eternity begins now. This minute. Today, in love. 

More than we can express, our father, my brother and my sister and I appreciate your kind words, thoughts and prayers as we move through this time together with our children and grandchildren. 

Please keep in touch if you feel so led. 

May the Lord continue to bless and keep you and all those you love during this blessed season and always. 

 In His Grace and Peace, during this time when the True Light of the World comes to dispel our darkness once again -- Kathleen


Kathleen Ware Harris  © 2013
kwharris777@gmail.com

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Winter Carnival?

Come One, Come All . . 

I am thinking about a Harris/DeRobertis/Watkins/ Tegerdine Reunion here on LBK over Epiphany . . . early Jan -- for a wknd or a week or whatever . . . scholarships available.  Already discussed it with Dickie . . . was crying, so I am not sure, but I think he said he is on board.  (Correct me if I am wrong, it has happened before once or twice.)  LOL  *grimace*

Let me know and pass it on to anyone who qualifies, OK?

Thanks.  I love you.

Please someone show up this time, OK?
Sat Jan 6 through Sun Jan 13 or so -- make arrangements or we will help you make arrangements.
Not to stay in Dad's house . . . but there are plenty of B&Bs, camping opportunities, hotels, motels.  I will play travel agent, OK?


Kathleen Ware Harris  © 2013
kwharris777@gmail.com

Heart Lights

OK.  

I am going on record.

if one more person even starts to say anything about pulling on my big girl pants or if I even hear the opening stanza of "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer . . ."

I'll PINCH 'EM!

Don't try it.

At the last minute I had gone home to get some meds so I could take them back at the bnursing home so that even if they made me drowsy, George could drive me home.

Meanwhile the PT/OT/every other kind of alphabet soup gang were working out with Dad when he would have his final test for getting in and out of the car.  Or his first test.  I can't remember which.

So I am not sure how George heard it, but I thought I was supposed to without delay and as quickly aspossible without being stopped by the sheriff of Sarasota of the guardians of LBK.  

'Again.

AND there was leftover scampi, peanut butter pie to die for (oh)  (sorry) and leftover calamari.  And it was lunch time.  George wanted to return his rental car to SRQ PDQ.

He thought I was going to follow him to the airport and he would go with me back to SMYC, but I went there first and THEN picked him up by the baggage exit.

Beginning to sound a bit like the Three Pigs and the Liittle pig who buiilt the brick house going to the Faire early, right?
When you mom passes away any number of fairy tales and nursery rhymes may be violated.

BUT driving to SRQ WITH the food and my meds and a basket of whatever Dad wanted or whatever I though Mom would like to see, I had the radio on and EGGGGGSACTLY at 1:11 (1311 to you military types).

The song "American Pie' was playing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uAsV5-Hv-7U 

LOUD

And I knew.

Or someone ask Mr. White if it is "loudLY" -- OK?

Dad was sitting by mom's bedside watching her breathe, and then drawing her last breaths,

But Krista had called me -- had my cell phone off while driving like a good girl, but since George could drive after I got him, I turned it on to check.  While I was calling Krista back our favorite sweet nurse (but we love all of the nurses and CNAs and Texhs and administrators the best) called and left a message that Dad was OK and still with Mom, but he had asked her to call us and tell us that Mom had passed.

1:11 (1311)

Put on YOUR Heart Light.





http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0TfR9mgOiU  
We were five minutes away, but the speed of light would not have been quick enough.

More later . . .  good morning Beloved.

Rise and Shine. and give God your Glory, glory . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2OoZgUEucZY

Our sweet, sweet mommy . . . (sigh of sadness, but heart filled with joy in some corner . . . growing).

And the sky was weeping off and on all day.

Of course . . .

Krista should be here around 2pm (that's 1400 for you military types).

Camai

Aloha

Shalom

Salaam A'leichem

Ciao bella

Good night Mrs Calabash, wherever you are.  



Kathleen Ware Harris  © 2013
kwharris777@gmail.com