IDEAL/REAL 03/20/00 ~ Best of....

Subj: Ideal /Real
Date: 3/20/00 10:08:08 PM Eastern Daylight Time
(this e-pistle was originally reposted on this blog on 06/20/10)

This week's Contemporary Service was given by Peter Buss, a thought-provoking presentation on Rachel & Jacob & Leah. There was a lot for me to ponder as I listened to the tape during dinner tonight.

I tend to lean heavily on what Peter described as "Rachel truths" – truths that bring to mind lofty ideals. I typically shied away from the less lovely "Leah truths" - those more mundane truths that help me see what is right in front of my nose, things that need to be done if I am to make the ideal real.

To me, love was a beautiful, spiritual ideal and it was my privilege to cherish it.

Now, I know that while that ideal is to be cherished, love is first and foremost an action verb. Love IS beautiful & spiritual ~ and it can also be a rough road to hoe, messy, inconvenient and downright confusing.

Love is the fuel & the spark that makes my ancient world go 'round.

XOXOXOXOXOX - the Gramster

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of the Gramster's birthday

OLD AGE AIN'T FOR SISSIES 07/14/00 ~ Best of ...

Subj: Journaling III - Old age ain't for sissies
Date: 7/14/00 11:58:28 PM Eastern Daylight Time
(this e-pistle first reposted on this blog on 07/21/10)

Actually, if you manage to get to 90 relatively sound of heart, mind and body (or any combination of those three), you have accomplished something pretty unusual.

To be honest, as I have inched closer and closer to my centennial, being old has gotten somewhat easier - actually, a lot easier. In my late 80s I began to see the humor and humanity in things much more than before.

Looking back, the toughest years were when my energies were beginning to flag and my body started slowing down. My proprium - my sense of self - felt threatened as it became clear that Katharine Reynolds Lockhart was far more than just the sum of her physical parts. Moving out of that hanging-on state to one of accepting that the fixtures and fittings were coming apart was like moving out of darkness and confusion toward lightness and the light. The concept of physical being, of time and relationships, became liberated. I was beginning to get the hang of these basic changes, when I was hit by a small stroke late last September.

That small stroke speeded up the process, liberating a different “me.” My mind felt strong, my spirit felt strong. As my body started to head south, it no longer had the energy to put up a fight about being temporary or even fake being permanent. My feet drag somewhat and I move a lot more slowly than I did, but most days my spirit soars, making itself felt more and more.

Nature has forced me into more meditative states and a slower, sssllooowwwerrrr tempo. Instead of being bored to tears sitting in the big chair in the living room or in my soothing rocking chair, it is surprisingly rewarding.

The problem is that young kids - looking through the eyes of a still preening self - feel sad and think, "How dull her life must be." Too many Ancient and near-Ancient Ones come to think those young'uns are right.

A friend asked me to write about old age and make all the younger folks envious of us Ancients. Growing old, even some of the sadder aspects of it, is part of the Lord's grand scheme. Let go of time-bound prejudices and fears of growing older. Marianne Williamson says that to get to the light, a person has to work through the darkness. In middle age, life can seem dark.

Work through it toward the light. Or perhaps consider a play - the closer and closer the actors come to the curtain going up, the more experienced they get, the more polished their performance and the better able they are to improvise when needed. It is the same with life. Think of us Ancients as master thespians, waiting for the curtain to be rung up.

It is past even this night owl's bed time.

Nite-nite and God bless - A Kid at Heart


reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of The Kid's birthday

SEVENTEEN 05/11/00 ~ Best of,,,

Date: Thu, 11 May 2000 07:27:49 EDT
Subject: Mindwalkers - Seventeen
(this e-pistle, first reposted on this blog on 08/13/10, is reposted ~again~ in honor of Bryn Athyn Community Theater's current production, Ayisha Synnestvedt's adaption of Booth Tarkington's Seventeen, one of the books Mom read aloud to her kids as we washed & dried dishes)

I keep looking at a photo that Elsa copied and framed and put on the hutch cabinet next to where I sit for most of the day. It is a formal yearbook photo of Pete taken when he was around 17 in his last year at Harrisburg Academy.

When I look at it, my maternal feelings make me want to put my arms around him and tell him everything will be all right. He just looks so vulnerable.

Pete's adored mother, Lillian, died when he was 12 after a lingering illness, following a stillborn birth.

Imagine how close a mother and only child would be.

Then, heaping unimaginable heartbreak on top of the tragedy of losing his mother, his father remarried in just over a year; Pete's step-mother was the woman with whom his father carried on a long-term relationship ~ including while his mother was alive. (Pete always believed that the cause of his beloved mother's death was a broken heart ~ she just gave up.)

When Pete was given his choice of prep schools, including Haverford, he chose Harrisburg Academy. It was far enough away that no one would expect him to come home over weekends.

It is not surprising, given his background, that his view of an effective family was based on stability and caring support rather than big salaries and fancy fittings.

When he fell in love with me, his step-mother told me she was so glad that I was going to marry Pete because he was starving for love.

Well, he got it, alright! It war a pleasure.

Give a loved one an extra hug for me tonight - Pete's Own True Love

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Pete's Own True Love's centenary

Semper Perge 05/27/00 ~ Best of Mindwalker1910

Subj: Mindwalkers - Semper Perge
Date: 6/9/00 9:10:07 PM Eastern Daylight Time
(this e-pistle was first reposted on this blog on 05/27/10)

Here in Bryn Athyn - where we have an elementary school, high school, junior college, senior college and theological school (with its wonderful masters program open to one & all) - the end of May and early June seems swamped with graduations. Today was 8th Grade graduation and tomorrow will be high school commencement. College graduation was over Memorial Day weekend, I believe.

I missed out on an elementary school graduation. Garrett Heights School went up to 9th grade and I was transferred after 8th grade to Eastern High School along with other "academic" students - they only kept the "business" students for 9th grade. We was gypped!

My one & only graduation was from the Academy of the New Church, which I attended for junior and senior years. The Class of 1928. Back then, and in fact until a few years ago, all the upper schools – the high school, the two colleges and the theological school - graduated at the same time.

My mother, who was living in Baltimore, sent me a beautiful dress for the Senior Dance - a short dress (remember, this was the era of the flapper and short dresses were the rage) of blue crepe de chine, with cream-colored chiffon sleeves. That was when I discovered blue was my color! I have been wracking my brain as to whether John Frazier or Phillip Odhner took me to the dance and I just cannot remember for the life of me.

My graduation dress was a similar style - white, of course, and as straight as possible falling just below the knee, with a deep hem of tiny pleats. I had lost a lot of weight the previous summer, so I looked practically fashionable.

Anita Synnestvedt (Woodard) and Beryl Caldwell (Odhner) were the fashion setters in our class. I can still see their outfits – sharp looking suits with unshaped jackets that brushed the tops of their legs over straight white skirts. I remember that Beryl's was a beautiful light brocade, which gave it extra interest. Anita and Beryl had classic taste and were what I like to call "the genuine article."

What did the boys wear? I have no recollection, but knowing who they were, they had to look pretty sharp - Dick Gladish, John Schoenberger, John Frazier, Oliver Powell and Graham Gurney are just some of my fellow graduates.

Our banner - all ANC classes have banners - was done in silver threads on a black velvet background, with the motto, "Semper Perge" - "always forward." Our class ring reflected the banner, a gold ship on a black enameled background. As I recall, it set me back around $10.00.

The Assembly Hall was not built at that time and the Asplundh Field House was many, many decades down the pike. We graduated in the DeCharms Hall auditorium, which was on the top floor at that time.

The graduating girls' families would present them with flowers. My parents were not able to be at the ceremony, so I did not expect to have a bouquet. Peggy Cowley (Schiffer), who was all of around 12 years old, was very sad that I would not have a bouquet, so the dear wonderful girl made me a bouquet of roses out of her family's garden. No other bouquet could have been carried with more pride or happiness.

I remember the music as we, the graduating class, marched in – Edward Elgar's "Land of Hope & Glory." I felt like nobility walking into that.

As the senior girls were seated for the graduation ceremony, the junior girls came up and stood behind us and entwined our hair with a wreath of ribbons and flowers. I kept that wreath for a long time.

I received my degree from the Girls School headmistress, Dorothy Davis. Elsa asked me to describe "Dodo" - she was Clara Davis Pitcairn's twin sister and, like her sister, Miss Dorothy could be very abrupt and direct, never one to pull her punches. She was not out to win a popularity contest; her eye was always on the prize of making sure "the girls" got a top notch New Church education.

Elsa asked me what I would say to the graduating Class of 1928 - or 2000, for that matter - if I had the chance. I would tell them what my father always said, "When you stop learning, you are dead." I would tell them to continue their education, whether in college or not. Some of the "brightest and best" people with degrees and advanced degrees know squat compared to less "highly educated" folks with a good sense of people and common sense. That they should welcome change. To not give themselves airs, to take themselves lightly. In short, remember "Semper Perge" - -"always forward."

Nite-nite and God bless, with special love to Kelly, Carl, Meg and any other graduates who are dear to my heart that I might be leaving out. - - The Gramster

reposted with sweet memories of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka DEEV

CANBERRA 07/31/00 - Best of Mindwalker

Date: Mon, 31 Jul 2000 23:58:38 EDT
Subject: Canberra
(this e-pistle was first reposted 07/31/10 – ten years to the day after it was composed)

As I was writing about Williamsburg, my thoughts kept turning to the capital of Australia, Canberra. (Whenever he saw my notes, John would joke that I was misspelling cranbury. That John, he is a cheeky one.)

Kerry and Mike took myself and the kids to Canberra to visit Barry & Christine Ridgeway (Gretchen, I believe she is a relative of Ruth's) and to show off their capital.

It is impossible to describe Canberra, which did not even exist at the beginning of the century. I was surprised to find out that it was designed by an American. It has a beautiful location. Unlike Sydney, Canberra is surrounded on all sides by land, land and more land. It somehow feels like it was carved out of nature. Magical. Like Sydney, it has a unique energy and, like Sydney, Canberra is unlike any other place on earth.

The architecture ranges from very, very modern Government House to the Williamsburg-inspired US Embassy. It is fitting to have Williamsburg's Georgian style as an embassy, since late colonial Wiliamsburg and early colonial Australia were contemporaries.

Mike had picked up three loaves of sourdough bread back in Sydney – one for the ambassador, one for his secretary, and one for us to nibble on the way. We had the honor of meeting the ambassador and his wife. I do not remember his name, but her first name was Elkin - very unusual. This was during Jimmy Carter's presidency and as I recall the ambassador was a southerner and you know how those southerners can make you feel pretty special.

We had a wonderful time. At night, Mike and Kerry would go off for a quiet dinner on their own while I kept an eye on Scott and Karen. After they got home, it was my turn to go out to dinner. By that time, I was ready for a little piece and quiet and did not feel the bit ill used by eating by myself. The silence was golden.

Silence brings to mind the Hall of Memory - the war memorial - which is what I remember best of all. To stand in that graced place that honored those who fell in Australia's wars - there was a feeling of awe unlike anything I had felt before or since.. I felt close to the other world and the tears came. Everyone there was silent.

Love to you all from a suddenly hushed KRL.

With special thoughts and love to Carolyn, who loves Canberra - Grandma L.

reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Nan’s birth

NEW HOPE, NOW & THEN 02/24/00 ~ Best of Mindwalker

Subj: WOMEN: Mindwalkers ~ New Hope, now & then
Date: 2/24/00 11:37:56 PM Eastern Daylight Time
(this 02/24/00 e-pistle was first reposted 05/21/10 in celebration of what would have been the gramster's 100th birthday)

Just back - at 10:10 p.m. ~ from a toot with Elsa up to New Hope. She took a bottle of sparkling nectar up as a surprise for friends who will be staying at a stunning inn for the weekend. A favorite R&R spot for John & Elsa, it is built within the ruins of a old mill. I went inside last spring with Elsa & Gail Cooper and it is a knock out. Dramatic ruins and dramatic interiors, yet somehow it was cozy. There was a warmth there.

Heading up, we talked about this time - was it really 63 years ago? - when Pete & I were planning our wedding. We thought New Hope would be a just-right place to spend our honeymoon. Apparently we were way ahead of our time, because when I went to the travel agency at the department store I worked at (yes, department stores really did have travel agencies in those days), the person looked at me like I had suggested Mars would be nice. "No one goes to New Hope. There's not even any place to stay."

Well, Pete & I knew that could not be so. New Hope was too charming not to have overnight lodgings. Back then, it really and truly was a bohemian artist's colony, with a special feeling about it that disappeared long before many of you were a gleam in your parents' eyes. We knew it was the place for us. So, one Sunday we packed up a picnic lunch and headed to Wayne Junction and the one train that went to New Hope. One train up in the morning, one train back at night.

We had a wonderful time traipsing all over New Hope that day. We settled down along side the canal and ate our lunch and talked about our wedding and our future. It was an idyllic day. Unfortunately, the travel agent knew of what he spoke - we could not find so much as ONE place for overnight visitors to stay. It was a great day and a great disappointment, at the same time. And it seems like yesterday.

Best wishes on you all. I am headed up the wooden hill ~ M/G/N/K/AK

(reposted with sweet memories of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy, aka DEEV)

Q

M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E ~ ~ Best of Mindwalker1910

Subj: M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E
Date: Fri Nov 10 21:00:17 EST 2000
(first reposted 12/13/10 in celebration of what would have been the gramster's 100th birthday; selected to commemorate Whitney & Chad taking the girls on their 1st visit to DisneyWorld earlier this month ~ great way to celebrate Chad's 40th!!)

When I think about going to the various parts of DisneyWorld, I feel overwhelmed. It was such a... well, such a big experience is the best way to express what is in my heart. I expected to have a really good time, I did not expect to be as moved as I was.

First of all, understand that this place really did seem like the happiest place on Earth. In the four+ days we were in DisneyWorld, I did not see a single parent snap at a child, nor did I hear a single child whine or complain.

When I think of the children, I think of the little kids who were having the time of their lives with these water jets that came up through the pavement in one part of Epcot. I can see the smiles and hear the great hoots of glee. What a memory.

I see the little children gathered around the storyteller in the "England" part of Epcot as he leaned on his staff and spun a tale.

I see the children - and the parents and the grandparents - when they spotted Pluto or Tigger or Donald Duck or the biggest and best of them all - Mickey himself - walking around.

I was there and Elsa was there, but in my heart so were Mim and Ian, both of whom watched the Mickey Mouse Club back in the 1950s. Mim was a bit old for that sort of thing, being in her early teens, but she did so much with the "Top Yard" kids - Roses, Grubbs and Lockharts - and other neighborhood children, watching Mickey Mouse Club was an extension of her interaction with them. Yes, both Mim and Ian were very much with me.

Ever since Pete and I went to England, I dreamed of going there with Elsa. We might not ever make it across the Atlantic together, but we did make it to the Rose & Crown, a pub that certainly seemed like a bit of transplanted England. We sat outside and had the jolliest waitress. We have a picture of her with yours truly, both of us grinning away like mad. Elsa and I ordered a sampler of ales along with our ploughman's lunch. Between the two of us, we polished off those ales quite easily. Time out of time and place out of place. What a gal that waitress was - I can't remember which part of England she was from. but the memory of her sets me smiling. My blessings to her, wherever she may be.

Elsa "blew the wad" by staying at Wilderness Lodge so that I could have the freedom of staying put where we were and still experiencing DisneyWorld - or - adventuring a field. As you have heard, I definitely went adventuring. However, if I had to pick my favorite spot in all of DisneyWorld, it would be Wilderness Lodge. I loved going out onto our balcony and seeing trees stretching out as far as my eyes could see. I loved sitting in that stunning yet cozy great hall. I enjoyed the people.

The 10th annual Teddy Bear Convention was taking place in DisneyWorld at the same time we were there. One evening, Elsa and I headed to the bar in Wilderness Lodge for a nightcap. As we sat there, talking, with my small black bear, Sasha, with us on the table, an attractive couple who looked to be in their 40s came up. They asked if we were there for the convention. It took me a moment to realize that the man was tenderly holding an even smaller bear in his hands. Yes, we were definitely among our own kind.

I loved the fact that Elsa bought us plastic travel coffee mugs that I could refill for free as many times as I liked. I loved watching the families walking to and fro, always happy. I loved the great care the staff took keeping everything neat and tidy. I loved looking up and up and up at carved eagles and bears and other animals tucked here and there through that magnificent structure. I loved the awesome - an understatement - fireplace. I loved every nook and cranny of that magical place. All I have to do is close my eyes and I am back in its shelter and I am happy and smiling.

This smiling Grammie is heading up the wooden hill, with loving thoughts of
DisneyWorld and you to keep me company.

Nite nite and God bless.