The lesbian nod

Irish rainbow

   I was walking down a sidewalk in Chicago with my grandsons gamboling about me.  Coming toward us was a woman pushing a stroller with one hand and guiding a toddler with the other.  She gave me a brief, courteous nod. Ah, the lesbian nod, a sign of recognition and encouragement between strangers.  I exchanged that nod with an old woman in the waiting room at the OSHU hospital.  It came again from a younger woman walking down the aisle of a plane, as I sat there with  my mask and stoic air-travel face already on.  The lesbian nod says, "I see  you." It is a grace note, and a comfort.
    Last week the Republic of Ireland voted decisively to recognize gay marriage.  Ireland is the first country in the world to enshrine gay marriage in its constitution by poplar vote. 60% of citizens voted, with many Irishmen flying back home from abroad just for the election.  62.5% voted yes.  The measure passed in all provinces except for one. After the results were announced, in Irish first and then in English, a double rainbow appeared over Dublin.

Double rainbow over Dublin

 
    Meanwhile, back in everyday life, I went to the bank to cancel a credit card that has a fee. The young banker persuaded me to open another credit card, one with no fees and cash back. She was following a script to fill out the application, and asked me about my annual income. "For both Judy  and me?" I asked. Yes. No looking up special Oregon rulesfor domestic partners, no calling a manager for clarification, no bewildered look.  She just filled out the form, and issued a card with more favorable terms than I would have gotten with just my income.

Wedding portrait

    What I didn't say to the banker was, "For me and my wife?"  I have hesitated to describe Judy as my wife.  In my early life I experienced shrinking into a wife, and it was awful.  I also find it awkward, after 20 years of calling her my partner, to say "wife."  But I am going to start doing it.  Our new minister refers matter-of factly to her first wife and her second wife.  The other day I heard a young male sportscaster talking about misogyny in FIFA, the world's governing body of soccer.  The head of the FIFA mistook the wife of one of the best women's soccer players the world for somebody else and he didn't bother to apologize, scolded the sportscaster.  I am getting used to hearing "his husband" or "her wife."  I realize that it is important to use the word "wife" as another way of saying that I claim the privileges of marriage.

Judy update

Looking good

 

         Judy is still able to do most of the things she wants to do.  She plays old-time music with a dulcimer group at Vista House in the Columbia Gorge, jams with her ukulele buddies and then joins them for lunch, schedules places to meet her friend Fuey, and spends hours in long thought at coffee houses. However, the events have to be spaced out. She now takes a day to rest between activities.   She still hopes to do two things on the same day, but finds that she cannot. On Monday she had her weekly 2-hour breakfast with her friend Donna, and she hoped to go to the Sisters in Crime dinner and program that evening. By afternoon she was too tired to go out.

     Fatigue is one of the main features of pulmonary fibrosis. Sometimes Judy feels wiped out in spite of  the accommodations she makes in  her schedule.  On those days she sleeps a lot.  She tries to figure out why she is so tired: Has the weather changed? Has she lacked sleep at  night lately?  It helps to attribute the fatigue to some circumstance. It is hard to see the dismay and occasional discouragement on Judy's

What next?

face when she has a low day.

Enjoying life

   Judy uses oxygen almost all of the time with activity. Moving from one point to another requires some strategy. Judy has learned to sit in the car for a few minutes after leaving a restaurant, for instance, and let her breathing settle down before she starts to drive home. The walk from the car to the house or from the recliner to the bed can set off vicious coughing fits, so Judy must make sure she is ready before she starts off.
    The doctor prescribed some good cough-taming medicine, but it has to be used judiciously.  Judy takes a dose before she gets up in the morning, and then  lies patiently in bed for an hour or two  before starting her day.  Fortunately, word games and animal videos amuse her. She has more wind for speaking in those morning hours in bed than she often does later in the day.  The other morning she was able to sing most of "Happy Birthday" on the phone to our daughter-in-law Courtney.

Backyard view

    Judy belongs to an online discussion group  called "Inspire,"sponsored by the Pulmonary Fibrosis Foundation.  With the people on the list, she feels like she is not alone.  She can ask any question, and she gets total support.  She learned from threads  on Inspire that people with her disease often look very healthy, almost to the end.  Judy is looking good for the shape she's in.

Mutt Leigh on patrol

     Thanks to our gardening friend Lisa, we now have a fantastic backyard view. Judy spends a lot of time with that view. It is fun to watch the squirrels tease Miss Mutt Leigh as she patrols her territory.

New minister

 

Search committee and candidate 

     We on the search committee chose the Reverend Marcia Stanard as our candidate for minister. Marcia is dynamic and joyful and sharp. She is from Oregon, a graduate of Lewis and Clark College  here and the Meadville-Lombard Theological School in Chicago. She's in her early forties, a proud mother of two teenagers. She had very Portland post-college jobs: working at Powell's books, wearing a dirndl and singing German drinking songs as a waitress at Gustav's, volunteering at the Women's crisis line,  and managing a naturopathic office.  Her wife Katie is a police dispatcher.  For the past 5 years Marcia has served a small Portland congregation half time, and an even smaller congregation 5 hours away in Blaine, Washington a quarter time. (The work history of the majority of our 20 candidates reminds me of that of adjunct professors.)  After searching all over the country for our new minister, we discovered  the girl next door.

The Reverend Marcia Stanard

     The committee followed the guidelines and timeline of the Unitarian Universalist Association in the selection of the candidate.  This ridiculously long process had some beneficial effects. The congregation became clear about their current identity and direction, and identified what they were looking for in a minister to lead them. They also became invested in the work of the committee, even as we became highly invested in the candidate we chose. We fully expected that the congregational vote on April 26 would be no problem.  As I told Marcia, "They are invested in us, and we are invested in you.  Now all you have to do is seal the deal."
    Marcia hit it out of the park with her first sermon on April 19. During the following week, she introduced herself at 23 church meetings. I attended many of them with her.  I was impressed with how quickly and thoroughly she connected and grasped the dynamics of each group. She was both bold and compassionate in addressing issues that most job applicants would avoid until well after they were in office.

Marcia accepts the position

     At the end of the very last dinner meeting of that long week, Marcia checked her phone for some scheduling question. She began smiling and crying; we knew she had gotten some important news.  Her younger daughter, age 13, had won second place in the state History Day competition, and would be going to DC for the national contest.  We all  rejoiced with this thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly present mother. The next day, Marcia preached again, and went around the corner with her daughters while the congregation voted.

  There were very few questions at the meeting before the vote.  One member asked us what made us choose Marcia, not above all the other applicants, but what made us think she was the best  fit for our church.  According to our committee chair, the most  persuasive argument in favor of Marcia came from me.  I had said that "we, as a group, are better with her than without her.  She brings out the best in us."  The congregation voted 96% in favor of calling Marcia as our new minister. Five people abstained.  Nobody voted no.
     Success!  Marcia will be installed as our minster in late August.

April in Manzanita

     We made two trips to Manzanita in April.  We joined John and Rose at a small place called the Red Door that doesn't take dogs.  This was the first time we have left Miss Mutt Leigh.  She stayed next door.  Neighbor Janet was certain that 13-pound Mutt Leigh and 85- pound Arnold would get
along just fine.  They did, after Miss M. nipped Arnold in the ankle to show him who is boss.

Josh fuels up

Sailor jacks

   It was busy long weekend.  John and Rose's grandchildren were there for spring break.  They continued the sand design work they had begun in February.  Josh says he can't wait until my grandsons get to Manzanita in August. "They will be good labor," he says.  We all marveled at the thousands of blue Vellella vellela that had washed up on the sand.  Some people call them Japanese men-o-war; Judy calls them sailor jacks.
    I cleaned the library cottage, and visited with old library friends while I washed windows.  When Judy picked me up after an afternoon's cleaning, she was too weak to come in from the car.  So our old friends clamored out to the driveway and hung around the car visiting with her.

Janet with Carter

   Rose and I checked out 3 of the houses that family members have rented for our West Coast reunion in August.  Judy and I had planned to stay Sunday night in the house of my friend Linda, who had kindly offered to let us stay there in August.  Linda's house has spectacular views, and meets all the restrictions and requirements that we have: flat, easy access to the house and a bedroom on the first floor; great views for Judy to enjoy while she rests; welcoming to Mutt Leigh, and close to the houses the rest of the family has rented.  After several weeks of searching I couldn't find a rental that met our needs. Linda's offer was a godsend.  Unfortunately, her husband smokes a pipe constantly.  The purpose of our staying at Linda's on a Sunday night in April was to test whether Judy would be bothered by the residual smell of pipe smoke.  We lasted only fifteen minutes in Linda's house before the smoke began to bother all of us. So we hightailed  it back to the Red Door, schlepped our belongings back in, and settled in for another night at the beach.

Robert with Carter

What  note is that?

     Back home in Milwaukie, we celebrate Easter with our good neighbors and their new grandson Carter.  Carter was born on Epiphany, making him the third King in his family.  He is the apple of the eye of a whole village; not only his skilled and loving parents Kelli and Randy, but also grandparents Janet and Robert, Great-grandparents Harry, Wauneta, Louise, and Sybil, along with Randy's parents, four sisters, and extended family. And, of course, Judy and me.  Janet and Robert are keeping Carter during the day while Kelli and Randy return to their teaching jobs.  We now get to see a lot of the little red-headed charmer.
    Now we are back at the Library cottage in Manzanita, and unplanned bonus trip.  There was a cancellation, and our names were drawn in the lottery to fill the vacancy.  Fuey joined us.  She and Judy filled the house with music from autoharp and ukulele, and I sang along. Mutt Leigh claimed the end of the chaise as her guard tower, where she  can protect us from all the dogs on the beach.

Fuey

    Judy sometimes gets discouraged when she has only enough oomph to lie on the couch all day.  I tell her that means she will not miss a minute of the view of the ocean.
 

Mutt Leigh at the cottage

Sequim babies

 

Holding Ivan

  I was eager to see the twin boys Charles and Ivan, who were born in mid-February to Joe and Lisa in Sequim.  So I loaded the car up with the mixed-tape CDs that my brothers-in-law have made me over the years, and took off for the four-hour drive.  It was a beautiful drive beside Hood Canal.  I sang along all the way.

Lisa with one baby

Joe with two babies

  Charles and Ivan are healthy, contented babies, who are held almost constantly.  Lisa keeps one  strapped to her while she works coordinating the farmers' market in Sequim.  Joe is adept at holding both boys at once. Grandmother Kris is there for hours most days. John and Rose take their turns at the 9 to 1 shift while Joe works nights at his nursing job.  Lisa's  brother Peter, who lives in the other half of the house, is on call all night. It takes a village, and those babies have one.
     Big sister Olive loves them from near and far, mostly from her many  perches. Olive likes to be high up. She has a climbing wall on one side of the living room, and a ladder  hanging from the ceiling. Even her playhouse has an upper story. Lisa's mother Charlie is on hand most days to play and do tap-dances with Olive. Many days, Olive plays at Kris' house with her cousin Greta.

Olive

     Meanwhile in the back yard, Chas and Joe are building a large annex, which will be a recreation room with Olive's trapeze-artist equipment

Construcion.  Joe, Peter ,Chas

now and bedrooms later.) John and Peter often lend a hand.
   John and Rose, Chas and Kris and I went to dinner at a restaurant overlooking  a golf course, with a fine view of the Olympic mountains. The  complex is run by the Jamestown S'Clallam tribe. As I walked out past the Northwest Coast art, down the slight slope to the parking lot, Kris and I walked arm-in-arm.  I smiled as realized that John and Chas and Kris and I have been friends for 50 years.  Kris and I were young women together, and here we are holding on to each other for balance.
   
   

Kris

Finally, a choice

   

 We did it!  I am almost a free woman!
     The ministerial search  committee has chosen a candidate to present to the congregation.  We have made the hard, hard decision, and I am happy with our choice. Our work is not completely over, but the most intense part is done.
    We follow the rules of the Unitarian Universalist Association, so we will not be able to make an offer until April 2.  If our first choice refuses, our second choice is perfectly acceptable.  Then, the candidate will come to our church to preach on April 19.  The candidate will spend the following week meeting and greeting. Of course the committee members will be introducing and schmoozing and subtly lobbying the church members. The candidate will preach again on April 26.  Immediately following that service, the congregation will vote to accept or reject our choice.
    Betsy asked a while ago, "Isn't that #%*! search over yet?" It has been a long haul, this work.  It began in January a year ago, when I agreed to be on the committee.  I thought then that my major qualification was that I have a good religious malarkey detector. I worried about my ability to make my wisdom, age, and grace heard in a group of nine. (One of us dropped out early on, leaving eight.)  If we could have conducted our business by writing,  I would have been confident, but in meetings?  I don't do committees. I used to say that small groups must form the basic social organization of hell.
     All summer and fall I worked with Jerry and Gerry to create a long document that would be a true and vivid picture of our church. This document, and a web site drawing on it, were our ""Help Wanted" ad for ministers looking for a job.  I dug out 30 years of attendance and contribution data and condensed the history of the 170-year old congregation into four pages. We answered such lovely questions as, "What is the dominant theology of the congregation?" and  "What issues will probably not be resolved in 5 years? 10 years? never?"  I felt heard by these two bright men.  We worked well together, and I gained confidence in my ability to produce something in a group.
    On January 2 we got 20 letters of interest, and narrowed that number down by January 6 to those we wanted more information from.  Then we selected further those we would interview by Skype.  Those interviews took all of a Friday evening and all day Saturday.  From those we chose a few to come for a weekend.  For most weekends in February and March we picked up the candidate and spouse from the airport on Friday, and took them to dinner Friday evening.  On Saturday we interviewed the minister all day at Ruth's comfortable house.  On Sunday  morning we traipsed an hour or two away to hear the candidate preach at a neighboring Unitarian church.  We were like secret shoppers, trying to be inconspicuous. Then we took the minister to lunch for more conversation.  On the Monday evening our committee would meet to discuss the candidate as a potential minister of our church.  Rinse and repeat.
    By the last Monday evening meeting, I was confident that I could state my my opinions in a clear, persuasive manner.  Maybe I can work with committees.  Maybe it's only purgatory.
     The day after we made our choice, I asked Nurse Judy,  "How does adrenaline leave the body?  How long does it take? "  I slept until 10 AM one day last week.  Judy and I took a long drive in the blooming country.

Clackamas County nursery

Spring inside and out

 Josh with John's design

 

Early spring

  Judy has recovered from the flu without developing pneumonia, thanks in large part to her determination.  She forced herself to sit in her recliner for a short time on the third day of her illness, then for longer on the fourth day, etc.  The doctors are still monitoring her, but she has declared herself out of the woods.  Not only that, but she believes that she has not slid any further down the pulmonary fibrosis progression than where she had been before she got the flu. It feels like spring in our house, to go along with the  blooming daffodils and primroses in the yard.

Judy at the dunes

   Our friends and neighbors took good care of us.  Betsy and Les made an emergency delivery of brisket and kugel, carefully leaving it outside our self-imposed quarantine house  Sheila came with walk-around tacos for us to eat while watching the Superbowl.  Janet is still sharing meals with us; last night it was spaghetti Alfredo.
   Judy had almost gotten strong enough for us to join John and Rose in Manzanita in the second week of February. It was not a good idea for her to pack her clothes and ride for two hours in the car all in the same day.  Even though, at the rest stop, I drove up onto the sidewalk to place her as close as
possible to the women's room, by the time we got to the vacation house Judy was desperately worn out. I have felt, during Judy's long struggle with the flu, that I was always arranging things in a way that would have been appropriate the week before or after. The next few days were a tonic for her, though, with great company and a window seat overlooking the dunes.

John sets off to work

     John was plotting large geometric designs, which he drew on the sand with
special tools that his brother Chas made for the task.  John would bend over his graph paper and compass at night, saying something incomprehensibly numeric to Rose who would reply, "So then pi would be 3."  In the morning he'd set off over the dunes with his tools on his shoulder to  work on the fabulous designs.

Search committee

    When we returned from the coast, I slid right back into total immersion in the work of the ministerial search committee.  We got twenty applications at the beginning of January, and have been narrowing the field and doing interviews.  When I come wide awake and alert at 3 in the morning, I fret about the search.  However, my respect for and confidence in the committee just grows and grows, and I take reassurance in that.  Even though we are at the point in the search when we will probably begin to disagree, I feel less worried when I am with them and we are working together.
   The other morning I woke up remembering being around 10 years old, and how it felt to turn cartwheels on the front lawn with my sisters.