Last weekend my husband and I traveled to the town where I grew up and where we both attended college. We started out after school on Friday, stopping on the way to eat dinner at O' Charley's. I was so excited to have a nice dinner out with my hubby (the first one at a sit-down restaurant, just the two of us, in a couple of months), but I was sorely disappointed. I ordered a Philly steak sandwich that tasted like the cook had dumped an entire container of salt in it, not to mention that it caused me days of digestive problems. I should have asked them to take it back, but I didn't. Hindsight is 20/20, right?
We arrived at my parents' house late to find my mom waiting up for us and my sister and her fiance hanging out in the living room. We visited for a while, despite the hour, and then went to bed. The next morning, we all woke up very early to head to a music education workshop held at a university an hour from my hometown. The workshop was absolutely wonderful! It started with a choral reading session led by the fabulous Ruth Dwyer (one of the directors of the Indianapolis Children's Choir). Not only did I get some great ideas for choral literature, but I also learned some valuable rehearsal techniques that I used as soon as I got back to school. The next segment of the workshop was on active listening. One of my professors from Indiana University's Summer Kodaly Institute, Brent Gault, led this session, and of course it was awesome! Lastly, we participated in a very meaningful movement session with Sarah Hassler, an awesome teacher in the Indy area. I have some great pictures from this session, but they are on my mom's camera, and she doesn't know how to get them off without help :) In addition to the great presenters, I had a blast with my mom (a music teacher), my sister (an elementary ed. major), and her fiance (a music ed. major). Isn't it great that my family and I can share so much in common? Also, I got to catch up with two friends from my summer classes at IU, who were also present.
After we arrived back at my parents' house that afternoon, my mom and I headed over to visit with Harold, a dear friend of our family because he was Meme's "special friend" (AKA boyfriend ;)) He is such a gem that I kind of feel like he is my adopted grandpa. We're even pen pals! He seems to be doing well these days, and is certainly staying active taking care of his house, yard, and vintage car.
This is Meme and Harold in July 2009
The next stop was the hardest. We went to Meme's house. I had not been back to her home since the week of her death, and as you might imagine, the tears flowed freely as soon as I walked through the door. I knew I wouldn't hear her voice say, "Well, hello! Come on in!," but a part of me still waited for her to rush to the door and greet us. Mom and I mainly worked in the second bedroom where Meme kept her computer and desk. I alternated between crying and laughing as I went through the desk drawers. One of the funniest things I found was a cassette tape labeled "Olivett snoring" in my Papa's handwriting. My mom said she remembered Papa recording Meme once so that she could no longer deny her ability to saw some logs. I also found a paperweight that Papa made with his picture in the bottom. The back of the picture says, "The one and only Eugene F H, age 19." My grandpa was quite the handsome fellow. I've always thought he resembled a Grease-era John Travolta. I also found an envelope of family pictures with my name on it (Meme always enjoyed helping me with geneaology), and one of the pictures showed my Papa's mother as a little girl with her parents and siblings! Even though the pictures were a great find, I treasured every single thing my fingers discovered, even her wallet with its MCL coupons, which expired in July. Mom left the wallet on the desk, telling me that she wanted to leave it just where it was.
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I love this picture of me and my Meme. The other picture is from Meme and Papa's wedding in 1948.
That evening, my parents, Seth and I went to Cracker Barrel for a nice dinner. I must admit, I enjoy the fact that my parents eat out a lot, because Seth and I hardly ever do. My dad and I got to visit quite a bit that evening, which was really nice!
I like this picture of my parents, which was taken at Thanksgiving a couple years ago.
On Sunday morning, we went to church with my parents. It is always nice to visit my home church, mostly because I get to greet my former Sunday School teachers, spiritual mentors and family friends. It is very different from the church I attend now, but it's still "home." After service, I walked across the parking lot to peer in the windows of my old elementary school, which has been closed for some years now. I quickly found out that the church has just purchased the school building to use for community ministries, and one of the members in charge of the renovations asked if I would like to go inside and look. Of course I said yes! I found every classroom I studied in, from grades 1 though 6, and many memories came flowing back. I had excellent teachers in elementary school, but the social component of my education was rough. I never had much in common with my peers, preferring adults and "weird" kids. As a result, I was ridiculed mercilessly. The neatest part of my little tour was finding a Looney Tunes mural that I helped to paint still looking great in the foyer. The church people are going to keep the mural there and even have a painter restore it! Isn't that awesome?!
After a quick lunch at home, Mom and I headed to her classroom (she is a junior high choral director) so that she could show me some sheet music. I was looking for some pieces my upper elementary kids could perform at their Christmas program, and boy did I hit the jackpot! By that afternoon, I had the whole program selected.
Much too soon, it was time for my husband and I to head back to our little home and get ready for another work week. Our weekend getaway, despite being emotionally exhausting, was a real treasure!
Hymns have always exerted a poignant influence on my spiritual life. When I was a little girl, my mom would lower the hymnal so that I could see it. We would mingle our voices together in praise, and when I lost my place, she would point me in the right direction. In later elementary school, I remember becoming confident enough (as a result of memorization and increasing music literacy skills) to sing the melody while Mom sang the alto part. One time during our Wednesday night church meals, Mom and I were asked to sing before the meal. I can remember it like it was yesterday...I was probably about twelve years old and VERY nervous because I was going to carry the melody by myself. We sang "In My Heart There Rings a Melody" straight from the hymnal, sharing with the church congregation something we had shared in the pew for many years.
