Now the centurion, and those who were keeping guard over Jesus, when they saw the earthquake and the things that were happening, became very frightened and said, “Truly this was the Son of God!”
Title kudos to Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s “In Memoriam,” line 12.
Yesterday we went to the Good Friday service at church, not asking for a ride there but opting instead to ride the last shuttle to Clark at 6:30, then walk the mile and a half from Clark to church. As we boarded, however, I decided to ask the driver how far south he’d be willing to deviate from his course since it was the last run of an excruciatingly light-ridership day. As it turns out, he deviated all the way to the church—a long drive down Park Ave, connecting on to Main Street, and a bit far down Main. He dropped us off right in the church parking lot at 6:09 pm—a good 50 minutes before the service was scheduled to start. Ian and I had, fortuitously, brought along books to entertain ourselves with, so the time passed fairly quickly. Overall the service was dim, contemplative; we received a sheet of verses pertaining to Easter and Good Friday and as they felt called people read a verse aloud and explained why it struck them. We also sang quite a number of hymns that I didn’t know, namely because I don’t know many hymns. At the end we did a classic ‘write a sin on paper, stick it to the cross’ exercise that, though clichéd, never fails to touch me. Because Christ did take my sin on himself that day—and though Friday we sorrow, we look forward to Sunday and life.
Why do taxes require so much paperwork? Even e-taxes, which we unfortunately cannot pay with e-money, require loads of paperwork that sometimes comes and sometimes doesn’t. Thankfully, my husband has graciously requisitioned this unpleasant task—fair enough, especially since nearly all the tax difficulties come from him in any case. But as a result we are married, so any difficulties are easily dealt with when such a reward exists.
Today I had good talks with both Mom and Tiffany, fortunately separated by many hours. Mom and I have developed the ability to talk about nearly anything, and what I appreciate the most is that she treats me as an adult. It wasn’t that long ago that I still acted like a kid and deserved to be treated as such; but much changes in little time, and I’d like to think I’ve done a great deal of growing up in the last year and a half. Even if that is not so, I still appreciate her, my parent, acting as if I’m a peer (sometimes). Tiffany and I simply got back on the same footing we’d had before; I neglected contacting her for months, since Thanksgiving, but emailed her to get back in touch. She seemed very happy, and I felt genuinely happy to talk to her—or listen, because that’s my role, for the most part. I have a few friends who I can leave and take up again with months later and the interim time seems not to have passed: such people are quite valuable, and the few I have I appreciate very much.
Ian and I went out on a date tonight: a walk terminating at the Northworks Bar & Grill, where I ate a very mediocre club sandwich (too much plain turkey—quite flavorless) and Ian immensely enjoyed steak of some variety. He gets his beef where he can. Another walk, the round-about way to Price Chopper, found us dismayed to discover there were no Old Fashioned doughnuts for tombs nor were there any cheap doughnut holes as stones…so no empty tombs for tomorrow, but with pleasure we bought croissants instead. Getting out of the apartment and doing such activities remind me anew why I married Ian: he’s a fun guy to hang out with and can carry on an intelligent conversation…or not, as the case requires. I hope everybody finds a spouse as loving, genuine, and loyal as I have. This is dragging on, now, and sounding rather sappy. So.
Yay! Dad got in the Seattle Times Editorial Section once again! – His appears partway down the page, and logically enough is signed “Joe Sullivan.”
– KF –