On the way

I'm in SeaTac Airport on the way home to Suchitoto from home in Bellevue.  The retreat week was a huge gift - time to slow down and pay attention, to enjoy silence and eagles crooning, to pray and meditate, to pick blueberries in the Mercer Slough, to delight in Alexandra Kovats' insights into our Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace Constitutions (that might sound like a dull subject, but our Constitutions are amazing, a real gift of the spirit.  And then the fun of talking again at the end.  Yesterday, the day after the end of retreat week, we had our annual picnic at St. Mary-on-the-Lake, trees and flowers and people all at their best:

A good northwest summer day - gray, with occasional gleams of sun, a few sprinkles of rain, but nothing serious, temperature somewhere between 65 and 72.

And now I head south and east, back to the rainy season, tropical heat in the Central American season of winter, the corn growing, back to my other home in another world.

Vacation into Retreat

We had a lovely week, my sister Kathy and I, driving down and up the west coast with Robert Caro's Passage to Power on the iPod, visiting cousins, and revisiting our childhood days at the Hahn family vacation home in Dutch Flat, California (it's on the road to Lake Tahoe).  Our cousins Margie and Mike Jager and Dowrene Hahn welcomed us to a home that looked very much as it had when we were all young, right down to the exact shade of dark green paint.  The town hasn't changed much either: the store is still where it's always been, the old hotel, now restored, looks ready for visitors, and the swimming hole, which was really a hole in our days, is now properly concreted and tiled and chlorinated, but it still keeps the old irregular shape.  What a rare satisfaction!  I'm far more used to trying to remember what used to be on a familiar corner that's suddenly sprouted a 10-story building.

Dutch Flat is an old mining town set into a dry Sierra forest of Ponderosa pine, western red cedar and fir, a spare and beautiful landscape that in summer is reliably sunny - a pleasure for northwesterners who'd been going through the usual Seattle soggy June.  Here we are in the forest, visiting the grave of my uncle and aunt, George and Dot Hahn.

We managed to visit other cousins, Margaret Rooker and Emilie Sturges Hance, along the way, and we had a grand family time.

Tomorrow I begin the other much-anticipated week of my U.S. time, the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace community retreat here at St. Mary-on-the-Lake.  A week without all my electronic toys will be very good for me, and a week of silence even better.  Even the weather is cooperating, as a sunny wave began on the 4th and will - in theory - last through the retreat week.  I'll be back to blogging afterwards.

The view from my window

Here's the view from my window in Cusack Hall lately:

The new Gaffney Hall - it will be our home health center for Sisters who need some assistance in their daily living - is going up right across from my room, and it's been illuminating and fun to watch the men at work.  An astonishing level of planning and coordination and complex ordering are required for even a simple building like this one: for us, watching the assurance with which the tasks are done and the pieces come together is a joy.  I think our workers are having a good time, too.  Aside from having a first class view of Lake Washington while they work, they're being treated to coffee and Joan Holiday's cookies - and, of course and most important, earning a good wage. 

By now, as I prepare to head to the airport and to El Salvador, the building has progressed quite a bit: almost all the siding is up, the roofing is being completed, and interior walls are beginning to be formed.  The promise is that when I return in June, it'll be almost ready for the move-in. 

Celebrations

My days in the north are drawing to a close with memorable celebrations and life-giving conversations. After several trips when my timing was just wrong, I was able to join the monthly lunch with other women from Queen Anne High School's class of 1959, and, bless their hearts, they brought me lots of vitamins which we'll be giving out to people in San José Villanueva in February. Here's a photo of Marlene and Sue, looking good, looking lively, as aren't we all, even though the class of 1959 is busily turning 70...

Then yesterday, 11/11/11, we celebrated five birthdays with brunch at Prospect House on Capitol Hill in Seattle, where I used to live and am still part of a group that meets for dinner on Wednesday evenings (on those rare Wednesday evenings when I'm in the Seattle area). Eight women celebrating five birthdays meant lots of presents and lots of laughter and an elegant fritatta and three of us taking photos at the same time, which meant that I have lots of photos of folk taking photos (see the bottom photo).

Along the way, I've had time for some wonderful, long, heart-to-heart talks with old and new friends (you know who you are) that replenish me and fill me with joy. I have friends I cherish in El Salvador, but my Spanish, while workable, doesn't have the subtlety and flexibility and shared reference points you need for a great heart-to-heart talk.

Finally, last night was the best celebration of all, as Susan Francois made her final vows as a Sister of St. Joseph of Peace. What a joy to celebrate this friend and sister who has been walking with us for seven years now! It was a beautiful eucharistic celebration - Father Terry Moran, CSSR and CSJP Associate, was our presider; Margaret Byrne, our Congregation Leader, received Susan's vows; and I was very honored by being asked to give a reflection on the readings. Our chapel at St. Mary on the Lake was filled with Susan's family and many friends, and the celebration continued into the evening with cookies, wine and dancing. Check out our CSJP website for photos and story to come.

So tomorrow I head back to El Salvador, with the memory of all those feasts and conversations going with me, very concerned to learn how my Salvadoran friends have come through the floods.

rhodys and rabbits

A little rabbit colony has found St. Mary-on-the-Lake - a very natural locale for them, except for the bald eagles that often sit at the tops of our trees and warble their strange cries while - no doubt - looking around for the odd rabbit. I hear there's a coyote in the park that's almost next door. But meanwhile the rabbits are roaming around, the rhododendrons are in glorious bloom, and it's OK if the sun is not shining that often - it's still a paradise here!

Strange to think that this is equally a blooming time in El Salvador, though now that the daily rains are well established most of the blooms will be swept down the drains.

Home time

I'm back in Bellevue for the month of June and for (again) some medical attention. I have an unexplained and - so far - undiagnosable chunk of gunk in my bronchia that shows up in coughing, wheezing, shortness of breath, and general discomobulation. There's a bronchoscopy scheduled Friday - following up on two of those in March. I hope for diagnosis and a treatment plan!

Meanwhile, I'm enjoying the glories of late spring at St. Mary-on-the-Lake. The rhododendrons are in full bloom, along with azaleas, strawberries, dogwoods, salal and a Chilean Fire Tree. The view from anywhere, but especially from our chapel where you look out onto a 30 foot tall red rhody in full bloom, is spectacular. All the evergreens, the western red cedar and douglas fir and spruce and yew, have fresh new light green tips. I haven't been back at this time for two years, and I'd almost forgotten what it's like!

The special joy of this time has been celebrating our six Jubilarians - I was very honored to be asked to reflect on the readings for the Jubilee Mass, and very glad that Sr. Carmel Little kindly read the reflections for me, as I didn't want to cough my way through them. You can read a bit of them on our Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace website.

The special sorrow of these days was the death of our Sister Rita Mary Lyons. I knew that she was receiving hospice care and was quietly taking her leave of us, but really wanted to be able to tell her how much I loved and honored her. I was able to do that the night I came home; she died the next day. Sister Rita Mary was a nurse and nursing teacher and supervisor for most of her active years as a sister; in Ketchikan in the 1970s (I think), she became a chaplain and offered her understanding heart and wisdom to staff and patients. When health forced her to retire to St. Mary-on-the-Lake in the 1990s, she saw the opportunity to do all the reading that she didn't have time for in her very active life. She must have read her way through almost every book in our fairly large library of spirituality and theology, as well as a few entertaining novels. She was a woman of few words and deep wisdom, a wisdom worn with great humility. I will miss her greatly.

Time of blessing, time of mystery

Our Spring Assembly was a blessed, full and mysterious time. Blessed in the presence of each of us for Fr. Terry Moran's powerful linking of the creation story and spirit with our Christian, Catholic and CSJP story. It's a perspective that makes all things new, knocks a few openings in our vision, and shows us new possibilities. I know, this doesn't explain much: but some slides Terry used will be uploaded to our CSJP website, and that might give you the idea.

Terry, by the way, is a CSJP Associate, and our Associates contributed enormously to the fullness of this weekend, as did our Jubilarians. On Saturday, we had the traditional Jubilee dinner, honoring Sisters Johanna Vogelsang and Ellen Caldwell for their 75 years in religious life; Sister Zitamarie Poelzer, 70 years; Sisters Ede Reif and Mildred Morrissey, 60 years; and Sisters Judy Tralnes and Andrea Nenzel, 50 years, and we sang and danced and partied joyfully, Sister Johanna happily watching the dancing until what was for her a very late hour.

This morning, Sister Johanna died peacefully in her sleep, having been toasted and honored the night before. At 97, she was more than ready to go to God, and she chose her time beautifully and mysteriously. We all gathered in her room to say prayers of farewell and blessing this morning, and there's no doubt that she has been blessing us all day. I felt Johanna's presence in the chapel this afternoon as Jen Cowan made her first covenant as an Associate, Sue Nies and Annie Welch made lifetime covenants as Associates, and seven Associates renewed their commitments. I wasn't the only one to come away from the chapel with a profound sense of having been blessed.

Johanna was one of the first CSJPs I met; she was on the Wilderness Retreat that turned me into a Catholic, in her middle 70s then, still adventurous after years of teaching and administration, clear, upright, living out of her truth, a holy woman. Now she lives in God's light.

Photos: Sr. Johanna; Susan Dewitt and Susan Francois; Jen Cowan and her foster son Michael.

Grounded

A long blogging delay... I flew back to the Northwest on Saturday, about to enjoy a month-long combination of vacation, CSJP community time and work in cool rainy weather. Instead the cold that showed up last Thursday and was going strong when I got on the plane ripened into pneumonia, so that on Sunday I clocked a temperature of 102.5 - and felt like I was still in the climate of El Salvador. It's much better now, thanks to medication and rest - the temp is gone and I'm no longer coughing, but I have just about enough energy to get from the bed to the chair and back again.

The worst of this is missing the lovely three-day trip to Portland and the Olympic coast my sister and I had planned. The best of it is being at beautiful St. Mary-on-the-Lake where I look out my window onto beautiful old western red cedars and can take a walk around our meditation garden or down to the lake when the sun is out. It's also grand to see my CSJP sisters and have tasty meals cooked for me. But I'll surely be glad to be through this siege and back to normal!

My bags are packed, I'm ready to go

Our western area of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace held a Fall Assembly yesterday and today - a grand experience of community as it always is, a time to catch up with each other, and celebrate, and learn, and pray, and grow. Our main subject was vocations to religious life and how we can encourage them; we learned from Sister Charlene Diorka, SSJ, about studies of recent vocations and about some of the ways we can be welcoming and inclusive of seekers.

We also got a first look at a new CSJP website that will be unveiled in May - there's a photo of Jane Kortz, CSJP Associate, checking it out - and we heard about plans for a new home health center at St. Mary-on-the-Lake that will give better care and comfort to our most senior sisters.

We celebrated some of our existing and enduring vocations with a Jubilee dinner honoring this year's 10 Jubilarians, celebrating from 80 years (Sr. Cecilia Marie Gri) to 50 years in religious life as Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace. We ate well, we talked a LOT, we joined in the eucharistic liturgy, and we danced. As always, being with my sisters reminds me what fun it is to be part of a group of women that knows how to pray and how to celebrate.

Now it's time to go home, to my other home in Suchitoto. My bags are packed with vitamins and Titebond III glue and new stationery and Apostilles and dictionaries (gifts from Eleanor Gilmore to some Salvadoran friends), the wheelchair is wired together for the journey, and Eleanor is taking me to the airport in a few minutes. Sister Peggy will pick me up on the other end. I'll miss the hot water and sleeping under a quilt and seeing the sisters and at least some of my Seattle friends; I look forward to the heat and the lemon tree and the market and my Salvadoran friends. ¡Hasta pronto!

Peace Day

On Wednesday I led, for the first time, one of our Peace Days for Women - a monthly gathering that has been taking place at St. Mary-on-the-Lake since the 1980s. It was a great group of women - some I know, most I didn't at the beginning. The topic was "Friends and Strangers," and since this was St. Patrick's Day, I began by focusing on his history of being kidnapped and enslaved - and then choosing to return to the place of his captivity, to befriend those enemy strangers.

The part of the day I enjoyed most, probably because it was mostly wordless, was an exercise adapted from Joanna Macy and Molly Young Brown's Coming Back to Life - it involved walking through a big room, first fast and frantically with little attention to others. Gradually the group is asked to slow down, begin to notice the others in the room, and then to take someone by the hand. The movement continues through a number of handclasps with different people. We all noticed our sense of connection with each other growing strongly, our pace slowing, our peacefulness increasing. It struck me that there are many ways I can continue this exercise in my daily life, walking slowly and deliberately when I'm feeling a bit frantic, paying attention to who and what is surrounding me.

I'm a bit sad, though, that I didn't have Sister Susan Francois' meditation on friendship in front of me when I led the Peace Day. This is a beautiful reflection by the other blogging CSJP Susan, and I recommend it to you. I'm a bit sad, too, in preparing to return to El Salvador when there are still so many friends I haven't had time to visit with. That's definitely the shadow side of living 3000 miles away and in another country

Sweet home

It's a joy and a small miracle that I can feel so at home in two such very different places. Very early this morning (I missed my planned connection in Houston and had to take the late plane) I finally reached my room at St. Mary-on-the-Lake in Bellevue. This morning quite a bit later it was great to be welcomed home by the Sisters, to participate in the Mass in English, and then to watch a bit of the extraordinary US/Canada hockey game and a bit of the closing ceremonies. As you might imagine, Winter Olympics don't have much appeal in El Salvador, and besides we were pretty busy with the medical mission. But here they're just around the corner in Vancouver, so I was glad to catch the tag end and hear some of the stories. Sweet home, sweet homes.

Rain and eagles

I woke this morning to two sounds that told me right away where I am: gentle rainfall and an eagle calling. Rainfall here in the Pacific Northwest is entirely different from the rapid downpours in El Salvador: raindrops shift into and out of mist, not enough for an umbrella, just enough to get you damp. And we've been blessed by the presence of bald eages here at St. Mary-on-the-Lake: they perch in our tall Douglas Firs and send their wild warbles into the morning light.

When I come back to the Northwest, it seems to take a few days before I wake up knowing where I am, though the quiet here should be a clue. In Suchitoto, dawn and the hours before dawn are announced by many roosters, birds, and the big buses rolling past our house on the way to the capital. Here the freeway noise is far enough away to be a background hum of white noise, and the morning's hymn to creation is led by the king of birds. Rain falls and will be falling here, on and off, for the next five months. In El Salvador, the rainy season is about to end, and everyone's favorite months, sunny and cool, begin in November.

Sizzling summer

I'm back in Seattle, which oddly enough was hotter than San Salvador for the last two days - hot enough at 103 to make Seattleites grumpy and crazy in a way they won't be again until the winter rains start in November. I thought it was fine, which is proof that I've acclimated to hot weather. It helps that Saint Mary-on-the-Lake in Bellevue, where I live when I'm in the states, is right on Lake Washington. Swimming in the lake is one of the very best ways to enjoy a heat wave.

Driving around and going into stores here feels very strange. I had forgotten that streets in American suburbs, like Bellevue, are almost empty of people. Driving around I saw other cars, some joggers (not too many, it was too hot), almost no pedestrians. A startling contrast to Salvadoran streets which are always full of people, mini-restaurants, sellers of gum and blankets and cell phone covers and artesania, dogs, parked cars. In the supermarket, the gleaming array of 34 different varieties of anything you can imagine was startling because so many varieties had appeared that I'd never seen before - new shampoos in elegantly shaped bottles, new kinds of soft drinks, new magazines, all of which seem to have blossomed during the severest economic crisis in a generation. I'm struck by the overpowering display of goods. It feels excessive, out of control, as if all we can corporately imagine doing is dreaming up yet one more variety of yet one more product.

All of which made it very good to get back to the clean simplicities of Lake Washington.

Grace

I'm so happy to say that Sister Grace arrived safely on Continental this evening - carrying with her gifts of coffee liqueur, ginger and very sharp cheddar cheese! We will feast! I think it must be because she's doing such a good deed, coming down here to help me pack and move (and bringing yummy gifts as well), but Grace, travelling on miles, got put in first class seats for both flights. A just reward! It's been great to hear the news of St. Mary's and the Sisters - like getting to take a quick trip back there where the rhododendrons are blossoming.

Tomorrow is a celebration of the Province Leadership - Andrea and Beth and Barb Haase. I had my thank-you party in December, before I came down here, and I hope theirs is just as much fun - and full of just as much love.

Home

I'm a fortunate woman to have two homes - though not in the real estate sense. I've spent the last two weeks in Bellevue and Seattle, seeing friends and family and community What a feast of friendships! And what feasts - Thai food, Indian food, glorious gourmet home cooking.

When I'm in Bellevue, I live in a room in Cusack Hall at St. Mary-on-the-Lake. It's been great to have a little room I can call my own when I come home, with my books and my winter clothes and my bed all set up. I left it with some empty drawers and closet space so a visitor or retreatant can use it when I'm not around. And yesterday I got up very early to go to the airport to leave home and to come home. All my motley collection of suitcases arrived in good order with the computer for Walther and the prescription eyeglasses for Comasagua and the vitamins for Nubia's family and the camera/printer for El Centro Arte para la Paz and assorted finger puppets and balls for children and a few more books for me. Fortunately the soccer jerseys didn't arrive, because both of the bags being checked were stuffed to the gills and close to the weight limit.

The immigration forms ask what your country of residence is, and this time, for the first time, I said "El Salvador," which led to a long conversation with the man at the immigration desk. Yes, I live here. And here, as I came back to the San Salvador house, to my summer clothes and more books, to the mail Francisco and Alex saved for me, to my bed all set up, here feels like home.

Home

My plane from El Salvador landed at the Houston airport where I stared wide-eyed at the astonishing variety of people who live in the United States. In Salvador, it's usually pretty clear at first glance who the Salvadorans are and who the foreigners are. It's rare to see someone with Asian or African features, uncommon to see a tall person (at 5' 4", I'm taller than most Salvadoran women and many Salvadoran men) or a blond. But in the Houston airport, what abundance: dark, light, tall, short, faces from all the corners of the earth - including, of course, a good many Salvadoran faces.

And then there's coming home: what a joy to go down for breakfast at St. Mary's this morning and be greeted with a full round of hugs, to catch up with news, to breathe cold air and to look out my window at the evergreens. It's been a long cold winter and a cold spring - everything is about a month later than it would usually be. Feels comforting, too, to know what usual looks like!

A Room of One's Own

Only 36 days until I leave for El Salvador!

I’m a fortunate woman. Today I’m sorting books and belongings, getting ready to leave, but also getting ready to move to a room in Cusack Hall here at St. Mary-on-the-Lake in Bellevue. I’ll have a home base, a place for my spring-fall-winter clothes, some shelves for the many books that I can’t take down right away, a room that looks out on cedars and firs. I even have a newly-created closet in the basement where the overflow – of which there will probably be a lot – can be tucked. It’s essential, as Virginia Woolf said, to have a room of one’s own. When I come home - probably two to three times a year - this room will be home and this community of Sisters at St. Mary's will be home.

And after a while, El Salvador will also become home.