Now it is 2002! But a question is how do you pronounce it? Is it two thousand two, or twenty oh-two, or twenty zero two? As noted in a column in the N.Y.Times we had no problem (nor with 2000 &2001) with nineteen two for 1902, and so forth, but why is it more common now to say two thousand and two not twenty two? One excuse offered is that “nineteen two” is not as ambiguous as “twenty-two” might be. It is just a quirk of English. Some put the blame on Arthur Clarke’s book, movie, “2001: A Space Odyssey” since it was referred to as Two Thousand One: Space etc. But it was never advertised that way when first promoted. Well, regardless of how you decide to call it, 2002 is here. It is a time to be thankful for all the blessings of the last year and continue to thank the Lord for those we will be receiving in the coming one. (This information on ‘how we should pronounce the figure 2002’ is provided for those who like to say of jotting subjects “Who cares?!”)
A blessing reminds me of a story. Our friend and pastor Jerry Straszheim told it last year. He had a very strict Father. His Dad was home alone baby sitting him and his older brother. He was about seven. They were in their bedroom and Jerry was trying to go to sleep but his brother kept making noises and talking. They heard the booming voice of their Dad, “Go to sleep up there!” But his brother kept it up. Next thing he heard was “clomp, clomp, clomp,…” his father coming up the stairs. He opens the door and turns on the light. He booms, “Didn’t I tell you to go to sleep?” He puts out the light and begins to shut the door, but just as he is closing it Jerry’s brother says” Why don’t YOU go to sleep?” Jerry hoped his father hadn’t heard him. He hears the clomp, clomp. down the stairs, and then a further clomp, clomp, clomp, down into the basement. This meant only one thing. He was going to get the switch! Sure enough up he comes and burst into the room. Both he and his brother received spankings. The point he makes is, that was spanking I didn’t deserve. So some of things we get which we don’t deserve are not pleasant or good things. But it makes us, or should make us, think of all the good things we get that we likewise don’t deserve. Things like love of Parents, good home, food every day, care when we are sick, and on and on and on. The gift of Life given to us by the Lord we didn’t “deserve”. All of which should make us thank the Lord every day. It is a good thought with which to start a New Year.
Since February of last year I have been keeping a daily journal. It is something recommended for improving your writing skills. Recently I came across at a book sale a “fragment of autobiography” by P.D.James. P.D. is a woman. The ‘P’ is for Phyllis. She has written some sixteen books in the detective story style. I have enjoyed many of them. The “fragment” is a memoir or journal, which she began on her 77th birthday, in August of 1997. She titled it, “Time to Be In Earnest”. The title is taken from a line by Dr. Samuel Johnson, which in full reads, “At seventy-seven it is time to be in earnest.” Good advice at any age but particularly with the end of life in view. She speaks of things that occurred to me as I tried to write a paragraph on two each day on the day’s events, thoughts, etc. Her thoughts have to do with what do you include and what do you forget about. Here is what she says, “I realize that a diary should be written up daily even if the day is without particular events and there seems little of note worth recording. No day is really without interest, being filled with thoughts, memories, plans, moments of particular hope and occasional moments of depression. Every day is lived in the present, but also vicariously in the past and one could write a novel of 100,000 words covering just one hour of a human life. But it seems too egotistical to spend the last hours of every day contemplating the minutiae of unrecoverable moments. I say my prayers and am grateful for the comfort of bed” I agree. Many of the items I found myself writing about were ‘minutiae’ but I excused myself by feeling I was at least writing. The easy excuse is to tell yourself, “Well, nothing exciting happened today so forget the journal”. It then loses its purpose of helping to improve those skills.
P.D. had another story that pleased me about Henry James. You know the author of “Bostonians” and others extensive novels in which he seemed bent on using forty words where four would do. He was prone to do the same when chatting. When he was invited to tea he tilted his chair back until it was balanced on the two back legs. He kept his balance by holding onto the table. “Henry James did this whenever he came to tea…and as his long sentences untwined themselves the chair would slowly tilt backwards and the children’s eyes would be fixed on it, hoping that it would finally overbalance and deposit James on the floor… indeed one day it happened. The chair went over and the novelist, undismayed, was flung on the floor. He was unhurt and, after a moment, completed his characteristically ceremonious and flowery sentence.” I am not surprised.
Looking back is always expected when a year closes. We all will be looking back to this year for years to come because of September 11th. It will be the Pearl Harbor, the “Day of Infamy”, of this generation. But I look back to many joyful hours along with a few sad ones. April brought Dan’s run in the Boston Marathon and made his Dad very proud. In May we lost Lee Saukitis to the Lord. In June, I had fun telling every one that “June’s in Jail (Federal Prison) this weekend”. She was there of course with the Kairos movement to bring faith and hope of the Lord to the inmates. In the same month celebrated Dan and Marge’s 50th wedding anniversary in Sarasota, Florida with their children and grandchildren. It was a glorious and festive occasion marred only by the bureaucratic bombast of the church delaying the Baptism of a grand child. Thanks to the initiative of Sister-Lawyer Rosemary and her pastor Father Pat, it too was overcome. July we spent with the gang at Ardsley and North Wildwood. It ended with a memorial Mass for Anne on August 1st. There was a luncheon and a chance to chat with many of the Lukens, Sr. Mary, Marge and Dan, and many more. We headed then to the “Elks River Retreat”. It is not called that but it became so for us because of the surroundings and the time we had there. It is really the home of Rich and Shirley McSorley in Northeast, Maryland on the Elk River. They had a house for us next to theirs overlooking the river some 400 yards up the side of a hill. We could sit on the porch with its humming bird feeder and look one way to the expanse of the river with the beauty of the water making like a flickering mirror. Then we could look the opposite way, up the hill, to the tree line, and see deer duck in and out. There was an oak tree which spread itself like a canopy over the front yard of Rich and Shirley’s home. It reminded me of the short walk I made after I first arrived in Philadelphia. I stopped at my son Paul’s home. He lives but a half a block from where we had lived and he was raised. Thirty years ago we planted a sycamore tree in front of the house by the street. When I walked down to the house I was amazed at its growth. It was as tall as the house, which sits 15 feet up on a small raised hill from the street. It stretched seemingly from one end of the house to the other and likewise across half of the street. Seeing that tree at our Elk River Retreat and the one in Philly reminded me of some lines from “O Pioneers” by Willa Cather. One of the characters, Marie, talks about trees, she says,”… I’m a good Catholic but I think I could get along with caring for trees, if I hadn’t anything else… I feel that way. I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have to live than other things do. I feel as if this tree knows everything I ever think of when I sit here. When I come back to it, I never have to remind it of anything. I begin just where I left off.” In the presence of a beautiful large oak as it spread over Rich and Shirley’s lawn on a quiet summer day, it was easy to understand Marie’s feelings.
This was the site on August 4th of the McSorley’s Cousins Party. We got to see Mary and Ron and their three heroes once again, Dan and Marge and two grandchildren, and Mary McSorley Shertz . We were busy after our return right up to the day we left to go back for Thanksgiving. We were both on Via de Christo teams with weekends in November. Our return trip was so delayed that we didn’t get into our driveway until 2:45 AM. It was another oft-heard story of the delay of flights, etc. It is not something we care to remember but it will be difficult to forget. On our arrival back we learned that a good friend Burnie Lakin had died. She had been ill now for several years and was waiting for a Liver transplant but then was over taken by other ailments. I will always remember her pleasant good humor even when she was suffering. I will also remember dancing with her at the wedding of friends on the New Year’s Eve of 2000. She remarked that ‘it wouldn’t be a wedding if you didn’t dance’. The first task after unpacking was June’s handling a luncheon for Burnie’s memorial service two days after we returned. The year ended with the continuing of the street being torn up. It starting December 17th, enormous machines surrounded us, a large pump was placed on that sacred lawn and went noisily day and night until January 5th. Our driveway is a beach from the sand accumulated in the gutter. We now have a cul de sac and all our guests for the various dinners had to work the way around the construction to make it to the driveway. But now the noise has stopped and someday the street will be reopened, but right now it is great having all the quiet. Happy year 2002, to all of you! (No matter how you pronounce it!)