Serious Things on Celebratory Days

One of my greatest fears as a blogger is that those who don't know me personally or are only casual acquaintances misunderstand when I am being sardonic and when I am being serious. Inflection doesn't translate well in print.

That brings up another one of my greatest fears. I am afraid of embarrassing or offending those of you who do know me personally.   It is NEVER my intention to do so.

Although my given name has not been revealed (and has become somewhat of a joke between writer and readers) most know it or have deduced it.  Even the blog name itself is somewhat misleading.  A more thorough nomenclature would be From the Fishbowl on a High Hill because the life of a minister's family is even less hidden than the city on the hill scriptural description of the Christian life.

Anyway,it boils down to this:  sometimes I feel the need to hide things, at least for a little while.  And also I'm afraid I might say the wrong thing and need to profusely apologize.  Endlessly.  (This has been happening to me a lot lately.  Really.)

I'm not myself these days.  And since I already feel like I live inside a fishbowl 'way up high on a hill in my real life the thought of virtually opening up has just seemed a bit much lately.


For instance, this weekend Pastor Dad will participate in the 10th and 11th funerals he's conducted or helped with in some way since April 1st.  That doesn't count other deaths in families of loved ones that have caused us to travel to other cities.   And there were at least 2 other local funerals in friends' families that we could not attend because of other obligations.  That's a lot of grief in less than 4 months!

Here's the part that I fear might be misunderstood.  Some might scoff since we have not personally buried a loved one.  I assure you, we have experienced multiplied sorrows ourselves.   It is quite overwhelming to spend so much of one's time in funeral homes!  And we are not hirelings.

About a month ago we recognized that we needed a break and took a Sunday evening off to attend another church.  The brief reprieve was to be the prelude to a week's vacation or Staycation.  It really was brief! That's the night Fen was rushed to Children's Hospital for emergency surgery.

Then a couple of weeks ago I went in for my check-up and unexpectedly found myself scheduled for tests in the radation department because of my answers to routine questions.  The bad news is that there is reason to be concerned.  The good news is that it looks like we caught it early.   Hooray for regular check-ups!

Why am I telling you all of this now of all days?

I guess it is because today is the day that Pastor Dad and I celebrate 33 years of marriage.  On this day in 1978 we promised to love each other in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, 'til death do us part.  Those promises were easy to make back then when the future looked like child's play.  We've reached the harder days.

And we just said good-bye to Dan and Lisa as their visit came to an end.  I hated to see them leave.

So while I hope to return to my regular style of blogging, including telling you about the things done this spring and summer apart from the moments of saying good-bye to loved ones departing for their homes in Glory or Vegas (which I know are nothing alike:  see, I can still be sardonic), for now I will just close by saying that life is wonderful, marriage is joyful, and every moment is a gift from God! 

Pastor Dad and I have spent 33 years pursuing Happily Ever After and are looking forward to the time when time together will eternally contain only the positive words of "health," "richer" and absolutely no parting with each other or our loved ones!

(Note to Pastor Dad:  You may now kiss the bride.)