Hello from Starbucks on the campus,
It is an incredibly beautiful fall day, and the colors are spectacular. I spoke with the women painting the townhouse, and they were impressed at how clean I left everything, which meant a lot because they see a lot of stuff. It is strange to feel a bit homeless at the moment, a bit more than transient, and a future left to possibility. I think the fact that all I own is boxed and sitting in a single garage, and it has some space left, reminds me of the temporary reality that life is. Certainly, we make plans, both short and long-term; we have hopes and dreams, and we have preferences, but as recently pondered, how much power do we have?
At the end of last week I was at the wedding of my former student/surrogate daughter; unexpectedly, the night before, her parents renewed their vows on their 26th anniversary. Her grandfather, who is struggling with advanced cancer, was there to witness both events. The starkness of that contrast did not go unnoticed. We go about life, planning for tomorrow. We imagine the future, often wondering what we might do to make it successful. And yet, what constitutes success? Is by the way we feel, what we are able or not able to do? Is it other people think? I remember a while back asking my morning group if they believed they had achieved the American Dream, that sort of quintessential measure of success? It led to a very interesting discussion. I am not sure if, in a sort of comprehensive manner, what they decided, but it definitely let to some pondering on their parts. As I move toward the reality of what life will be post-Bloomsburg, the fact that I have options and the opportunity to do things never imagined as a child, could be viewed as successful. The chances I have to create something I want is certainly a profound gift, of that I am sure. During this week, I am trying to figure out a schedule that has been rearranged more than a few times already, and while it is frustrating, I have a place to stay, opportunities to see some people that I might not have before I leave. All of those things are positive. I will have dinner with another surrogate hijita yet this week, another person who has grown significantly since that first Freshman Writing Course. Two major goals toward moving will be completed before the end of the week. The windows were installed in the bus last week, and the Beetle, like every other vehicle aspect of my life, had a bump in schedule, so it will be next week before it is finished. The bus continues to be a significant one-step-forward, but serious baby steps. That has proven to be a serious issue. As I now write this, it is Wednesday morning, and I have updates (to some degree) on both vehicles. The transmission has been loaded and is in route from Florida to the Ford dealer. It should arrive on Friday. I did try to impress on them that I need to be out of my garage by next Wednesday or Thursday. I am looking at the calendar, and it is going to be difficult it seems. This has been in process since the last couple days of August. On the Beetle front, the bumper was supposed to be in this past Monday; now they are saying Friday also. That means next Wednesday for the bug also. So much for my initial date of September 20th, the second date of October 5th, and then the 25th. Oh my.
Earlier this week, I found out that one of my former Lutheran Youth Encounter teammates, the persons I traveled with for a year in 1978-79, has passed away. Susan, the talented soprano of our group, has passed from the complications of an autoimmune disease called Neuromyelitis Optica, an incredibly debilitating disease. The unexpected has a way of throwing us off course. This event that caught me off guard, at least to some degree, because while I was away of her health struggles when we last spoke, there is an immortality to each of us. Susan, actually the youngest member of our group and she had experienced some health problems even in teens. If I remember correctly, she had already had back surgery. When I last spoke to her shortly after she was diagnosed and had moved to a care facility, she was honest and thoughtful about what she was facing. We had a wonderful conversation, and when I tried to catch up with her later, I was not able to contact her. It is hard to believe (as I looked back at our FB messages) that it was four years ago. While there were a number of things Susan was fond of, and even more capable of, I think she often understated most of those abilities. From her angelic voice to her stunning ability to understand numbers, from her incredible creativity to her love for those she cared for, she was profoundly capable at anything she decided to do. When I returned to St. Paul after getting married a different Susan, she helped Susan, my wife, get her first real professional position in the investment world.
After I had failed out of Iowa State University, a year that saw two people in my immediate family pass away, I was lost and troubled. It was somewhat on a lark that I applied to be a member of an Lutheran Youth Encounter team. Little did I know that I would be selected. Little did I know that traveling with four other people would be so instrumental in changing my life. Three of my teammates were from Bethany College located in Lindsborg, KS. Gloria, John, and Susan, in order of age, had been recruited together I imagine. What was evident is they brought incredible talent, character, and ability to our little group of five. Susan, John, and Gloria were all PKs, which was a bit disconcerting to me at the time as a Marine Corps veteran. And yet, the Bethany contingent made Ruth and I feel welcome. As we traveled that year, I remember saying it felt like we were all married to 4 other people at the same time. As noted, it was a year that changed the direction I would go, and each member of the Daybreak team were instrumental in developing what we were able to do that year. When I think of Susan, she probably had the most capable voice of all of us. Her clarity and tone were very strong, but she was also a person that was able to blend and offer such a clear and wonderful soprano to our little ensemble. I had a puppet, a blue headed frog named Maxwell. One of my favorite memories was a sketch she and I did called “Grumpy Day.” That is the picture above, and Gloria is holding the curtain and John is sitting off at the right side (dark hair and a beard). Susan had the most expressive face, and she could roll her eyes with the best of them. When I read Susan’s obituary on her Facebook page, I learned even more about her. I did not realize she had not graduated from Bethany at the time, I guess if I thought about it, I should have realized that. Yet, she not only went back, but eventually earned a M.A. and was working on her Ed.D. Again none of this surprising as she was a brilliant woman. Her area of writing actually overlapped some of my friends, and I remember one of my colleagues noting they were at a conference together.
As I pondered the year traveling with John, Ruth, Gloria, and Susan over the last couple days, I still realize how much I learned from all of them. While I had experiences they had not, nor will they ever, they taught me a lot about the world, about myself, and about things I could not have anticipated. Each of them offered insight into a world I had little experience with. In someways, they became the first surrogate family that really knew me and accepted me, in spite of my faults. I had so much to learn about being open and vulnerable to the other. I believe there were ways they understood me better than I knew myself. In spite of my struggles, my stubbornness, or my fear, they loved me in spite of myself. I see that much more clearly even now than I would have ever been capable of back then. John and I would eventually be seminary classmates. Nothing I ever imagined when I first arrived for LYE training at Lake Wapogasset in Amery, Wisconsin. Gloria was the teammate who kept us guessing as we never knew what she would say next, but in someways, she was the keyboard glue that kept us together at times. John and Ruth became that match sort of destined to be together, and I am beyond grateful for their continued contact through the years. There are people like Lee and Judy Swenson, John’s and my first host family in Newton, IA. We have been in touch now for over 2/3 of my life. As I think back about the traveling, the theology, and all that went with that year, I see it quite differently than I did then, and it is a sort of mixed bag, but I have no regrets about choosing to travel with Daybreak that year.
The passing of Susan is a poignant reminder of our mortality and the way that people move in and out of our lives. In spite of one’s absence from our daily thoughts or existence, what they did and the influence they had is more of who we are than we often realize. It was our visiting Dana College (twice) that would set me on the path to return to college there the fall of 1979. My involvement in campus ministry teams at Dana was a direct consequence of my being on Daybreak. It would be a profound part of my decision to eventually attend seminary. And my being a campus pastor would eventually lead me to attending Michigan Technological University, where I earned a PhD. It is not difficult to connect those proverbial dots. I would attend church in the Twin Cities where John and Ruth were, continuing that connection. John’s being at seminary when I attended was very difficult than living together (often with the same host family because there were only two males), but the connection maintained. That connection has maintained in that I had dinner with them in Illinois when was back in the Midwest this past winter.
Susan, I am grateful to you for many reasons, but mostly how you put up with me during our traveling year on so many levels, when you were kind and welcomed me into your home the summer following our travels, for sticking up for me at times when it was probably difficult to do so. Thank you for the kindness and honesty you had regarding Susan, mmany wife, and what you shared with me years later was more important than I ever acknowledged. I remember the last time we spoke, and in spite of your struggles, the same brilliant Susan was still present. I am suspecting this terrible disease took its toll on you in many ways. I am sorry you are gone, but also glad you are no longer suffering. There is a bit of an irony to the date of my passing, and it is another one of those dates that had a significance in my life. To Gloria, wherever you might be, I wish you well, and I still smile about things you said or shared. John and Ruth, thank you for being in touch with me. Your influence on my life, as well as your continued presence, is more of a gift than I can put into words. Life is fragile and fleeting. Susan I can imagine you singing your way through those pearly gates, and heaven, indeed, has an amazing soprano stolling its streets. The year we traveled, there were two groups that were brought in, most often for larger gatherings. One was the Washington/Seattle area called Spiritbourne, and the other was three characters from Concordia, called Brethren. The video below is from Spiritbourne, but I would put the three women of my team up against them anytime.
Thanks as always for reading.
Michael
thewritingprofessor55 