Alison Hodgson

Expert on the etiquette of perilous times.

Easy Like Sunday Morning

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A couple weeks ago I awoke early and happened to see two deer on the trail across the road. They were looking around and daintily nibbling branches. Eventually they jumped back into the brush. Watching them I noticed the way the light was shining on our hill. I grabbed a beach towel, the Bible, a notebook and pen, a thermos of coffee, a bowl of oatmeal and my camera. I had to make two trips, but it was worth it to sit on the hill, with the sun shining on my face.

I didn’t bother to get dressed, so I was still wearing my pajamas. Few cars passed. It was me, the trees, the sky, the birds, the grass, the sun and surprisingly few mosquitoes. When they began to hover I decided to practice a sort of mind control and it worked. They left me alone, for the most part.
The above is a picture of one Sunday morning, but it could be a snapshot of this summer. It has been my best one in years. Faithful readers of this blog have been with me on many a dark day – figurative and actual – and I just want to tell you that the sun is shining and the air is cool and sweet.

6/22

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Yesterday was the fifth anniversary of my father’s death.  I noted it at 6:31 a.m. as I was getting ready for church.  It was soon before or after six in the morning that the phone rang and woke me that Sunday morning, five years ago.  When I heard my sister’s voice I was confused because I thought she was sleeping in the basement but she had awoken early and driven to the hospital to wait with my mom.  They were there when he died.

I had noted the anniversary several months ago when I was scheduled for early morning prayer at church, on the date.  A couple people walk through every room in the church, praying, before the services.  When it is my turn I often sit through at least two and sometimes three of the services and it is usually apparent why I am hearing a particular sermon more than once.  I wondered if yesterday’s services would have any connection with my father’s anniversary, but they didn’t really.  The sermon was quite good, but not related and nothing connected or highlighted the marking of the day.
Torey and I had talked about getting together and having our version of the Don Wolfe Film Festival that my brothers always have out in California on Dad’s birthday in September.  Torey is trying to find a way to honor and remember Dad, especially with her girls.  I don’t feel that compulsion.  Yesterday, after church, I was tired and just wanted to relax.  I called Torey and told her I wasn’t up for the DWFF and she understood.
Some feelings definitely came up last week with the death of Tim Russert and I had a couple dad related cries, but that was it and without that projection I don’t know if I would have cried around this time at all.
One thing, that I have never thought of is that the eve of and day of his death is the Summer Solstice.  Tanner kept vigil the two nights between removing Dad’s life support and the morning of his death.  Up until then I had been obsessed with the thought of Dad dying alone and wept every time I considered it.  But when I told Paul my fears he said, “Babe, he’s not going to be alone, when he dies.  Even if one of us isn’t there, Jesus will be.”  Pretty much anything, any one said to me sounded like a poor platitude, but this gave me pause.  I knew it was true and I felt reprieved from keeping vigil.  Eden was a newborn and I had been balancing her needs with my father’s months and months of dying and the burden was becoming too much to bear.  Friday night and Saturday night I went home to sleep and Sunday morning, June 22, 2003, he was gone.  It was the longest day of the year.
It was the longest day.
I like to know now that my brother’s vigil was the shortest night.
I like to think that the longest day also means the most light.
I am glad to finally see that we removed the life support on a Friday and that he was alive in Christ on Sunday.
I am thankful to know that the mourning is, for the most part, complete.  And yet I know that, in some ways, it will never truly end until I am, in death, fully alive too.

Some of Eden’s Photography

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She saw these clouds and begged for the camera.
Like any good photographer, she captured what was at hand, in this case, the flight magazine.  She really liked this page and took some better pictures of it, but I liked the bit of the seat in this one.

I was reaching for the camera as she snapped this last one.  The flash, illuminating this image in the dark cabin was arresting.  It felt like I was having a vision, and I know now, I was.  This is what we can be: walking together, following the light and being lit by it.

Holding the light

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This is a picture from Hearst Castle.  Figures like this lined the the home theater which was the size of the first floor of my house.  Castles aren’t really my style, I’m more of a cottage-y sort of girl, but I liked the thought of holding light.
Light is one of the themes playing out in my life right now.  It has been for some time, but it is becoming stronger.  A verse in Hebrews took my breath away.  I can’t remember the reference and am too lazy to look it up, but it says, “Everything that is illuminated becomes a light.”  Love that.
It’s true.  I want to continue to learn and grow, to live passionately and joyfully.  I want to be lit up.  And I want to be a light.