calling all angels

June 4, 2012

Row Row Rowing When Weddings, Funerals and Graduations are on the Docket

…ever heard the song “Calling All Angels” sung by a woman whose last name is Siberry? Her first name escapes me but I’ll try to attach the song later. I’m guessing most people would find it far too depressing to listen to on a regular basic, but it is a top favorite of myself, my mom and my friend Alice. Basically it’s a grief song, and if you are Catholic I’d give it an 8 out of 10 grief song vote. If you are Irish and Catholic it gets a 12. (Because it was among my mom’s top four favorites ever and she is the granddaughter of 100% Irish immigrants).

Okay, I’m digressing already.

The point of this post (or the next few if my ever loving PC clogs and I have another minifit trying to post this) is:

1: Graduations and Weddings When they are your children and nieces and nephews,  Graduations and Weddings are a grueling/joyful crazy time of life. As an aunt (and friend who claims a few that aren’t blood) my percentage of graduating/marrying/just about to launch a career is approximately. Let’s see. Well, I am nearly at the great-aunt stage ranging to not far past potty training, but mostly heading or doing the adult thing.

I’m tempted to digress to the topic heading: “…and we have little kids at what age?” but will leave that for another day and entire chapter.

2: Don’t know about you, but the last several weeks of such worries and work and plans to celebrate and travel on such subjects is making me a bit of a crazy person, and I’m hanging, for realizes, on a thread. No seriously. I’ve neglected my new knitting hobby and picking it back up is soothing my nerves.

copyright free by Image Zoo, from

3: If you are in my LifeBoat, I highly recommend praying or humming to the tune of rowRow row your boat. I know. Another odd idea from Kate but it’s become my mantra. Sometimes I imagine who or what I am grieving alone in the boat. Sometimes with Jesus. Sometimes with my mom. Sometimes it’s me. Okay, no, I’m introverted so a lot of times it is me alone in the boat or, nearly alone with some other Angel treading along quiet like in little marsh to the side of a creek.

You know, if you have a family, I think, unless you are not connected well to your family pretty much anyone over the age of young adult can appreciate what I just said. Can’t you? No, I take that back a little bit – estrangement from family, from what I hear, is painful too.

So, other than the knitting part if you aren’t a knitter, come on fine friends. Fess up. Single. Parents. Grandparents. Not parents yet. You get what I’m saying, I know you do.

That’s what, other than the Irish Catholic part, Alice, and my mom Carol and I love about that song about the Communion of the Saints that Siberry sings. The theme of it is,




how am I going to do THIS. Which for me, isn’t just “normal,” (funeral) grief, but the elusive, how I feel about the wedding I’m going to this weekend, butI Just Fed that kid (6’ 4” now) cheese yesterday and I’m wanting to knit booties stage that most of my closest friends and I are in right now.

I mean, things like paying tuition and keeping the frig full, medical annoyance or even emergency amidst it all, elder care, alimony, long distance relationships, and something that has made me really mad  annoyed me for a few weeks which is that I’m all jiggy on the bifocals but why can’t I remember that damn simple asparagus recipe that our friend Bud gave me a couple of years ago. It only involves the microwave, a teaspoon of some liquid and fresh asparagus, but I just didn’t get it right during our asparagus jag a few weeks ago.

Speaking of rowing boats. How funny…it was pouring rain a minute ago but it let up.

It’s going to take a while for me to learn the weather patterns around here. Odd, odd, odd.

On Grandpa Telling me to Get to Work

Well now.

That was unexpected.

Despite my efforts to plot out today’s first few hours by way of learning the magic of Google Calendar, this photo and post was not what I had in mind.

Have I mentioned how excited I am to be working on a plan to get paid to write?

For many reasons, I am actually smart to be feeling afraid. (self patting shoulder)

But, fear and creativity is a whole list of other blog postings. Maybe a book, definitely some articles.

Anyhoo, before I pushed them out the door, both my husband and teen were teasing me with some shock at my perky approach to the day.

“Look guys! I’m dressed, ready for work.” (Self mumble: “Get along little doggies.”)

Newspaper comes in, back pack gets found, lost and refound, explanation of what a turnabout dance is gets explained, puppy eats Nerf bullet, argument about if we are having puffy coat weather or fleece ensues, garbage day is remembered, waffles devoured…

how am I doing with painting you into this picture?

Other distractions as I looked forward having quiet and computer access to finish several posts for this week included:

  • opening the poetry magnets I got for Christmas and searching out metal to play on
  • cracking open the two books that I’ve wanted for a long while that came in the same package
  • noticing that I can’t see
  • making notes to find a few more local doc’s
  • taking out said garbage to curb

and..sweetness of sweetness, meeting my neighbor’s new mini dachshund puppy named Daisy.

The unexpected? When things are well, I have a prayer routine that I stick to which is to listen to a twenty-minute music playlist that I’ve made fairly randomly. These short playlists turn out to be what I need to hear, every day, for at least a couple of months.

Yesterday I was so wound up that I had to replay some of the songs a few times because I was up and down from the chair, stretching, sorting dog toys, and web searching interesting medical definitions.

All of which is fine, but today I managed to sit still, cuddle puppy Paul, and replace my computer screen image from Gonzo the Muppet to, randomly, the photo above.

That’s my grandpa Overmyer. He was a writer by profession, and among hobbies he wrote limericks for friends and family.

I’m not sure how old I am in that photo…very new born to be sure. Don’t I look so warm and curious?

The unexpected part? I’d not listened closely to this new song I’d been enjoying. No need to because the melody was nice for cold winter days and the first words are

“Let my love light, shine on…”

something, something.

Guess what? It’s a song about a dad, (or Uncle, or grandpa, or…) who is on the moon with pride on the way to the hospital to see a newborn.

At least that’s what I heard.


Now I’m hearing my grandfather encouraging me to get to work.

Yes sir!

(P.S. Here is a link to the lyrics of I was listening to by Tony Lucca, click on what is highlighted blue , if you want, and have a good day. )

(P.P.S. And, a random link that came up in the search box, but don’t dare buck the ‘ole German work ethic much further: )

(P.P.P.S.) I tested the link to the lyrics and it is some other song. So. Much. Cool. Stuff.