Planning a Memorial Service

I know this is sort of a morbid post when my bloggy friends are all decorating for the holidays but I hope it will be a help to someone who Googles it.   
 I was gearing up for Christmas crafting when I got the call that my brother died. My focus has taken a different turn for the moment and to be honest I think my decor for Christmas will too. 

We didn't use a funereal home. 
Jim was sick for a long time with short term memory loss before he got cancer. Many of us felt we lost Jim a few years ago. I was in agreement, but immediately felt differently in the aftermath of Jim's death. Normally the funeral home guides the family in those early moments when they can't think clearly. I quickly realized that a funeral home is a big help. 
When we contacted all the family and friends, the first thing people asked was, "When is the service?" Once it became clear that people would come to a real service, not a loosey, goosey stand by the lake and sing Kumbaya service, I sort of jumped into action. I knew that a real service would help with my grieving.  
My siblings and I pretty much all attend mega churches. We didn't really want to use their facilities or pay big bucks to rent a chapel or even a small room. 
(Pet peeve alert here.) 
Really churches? Who gave you the facilities anyway?
Deep breath.
Okay, I'm back.
My private Christian school graciously  allowed us to have the service in the little lunch room. 
My school is in the old church we attended when we first moved to Texas. I got married in this building and my wedding reception was held in this same little lunch room so this is familiar to all of us.
It took a huge burden off of me knowing that my school family was surrounding me with support and this offer of help, at no charge, on a holiday weekend no less. :)
The other totally cool thing about it is the mural of Jesus and the little children.

Our home church growing up was Village Lutheran Church in Bronxville, New York. The staircase in the children's building had a mural going all the way up to classrooms. Many, many of our pictures at church were taken in front of that mural. I don't know who painted the mural at my school but they were used by God later to comfort me and I hope the rest of the family. 

The second item on the agenda was the officiant. 
My husband was an elder for several years so initially I thought he could lead the service 
(during the time leading up to Jim's passing when the  Loosey, Goosey, Kumbaya service was in the works.)
I knew that wasn't a good idea as soon as I realized that there is a reason people call in the professionals. 
We have a dear pastor friend who is now a missionary. We called him and he agreed to do the service. 
Day one - done!

The next steps were done by my brothers. They helped arrange travel for out of towers. It was an all day task.

 Food, Music, Scripture, Flowers and Memorial Table

The next day I woke up thinking about food, music and the memorial table. 
My school had offered help with food so I called them to see if they could help with side dishes. 
I plan to get a ham or two to plop in the roaster.
If my school family will provide sides we will have a lunch before the service at my house. 

Jim was a big fan of the Grateful Dead but I couldn't find a song with a Spritiual bent. Spirit in the Sky was not his scene if you know what I mean.

I love music, so I tried to come up with a mix of classic old time Lutheran music but with a rock ballad thrown in. 
It was healing to sit at my computer and search for songs. 
I continued to listen to my selections as I perused my photo albums for pictures.
I narrowed my music choices down and e-mailed the selections to my brothers. We could do a canned version of each (not ideal) but my sons are musicians so they may have a friend who will play piano for us.  

 
I took breaks to search Pinterest for ideas for the memorial table and a photo display.  
See my Memorial Service board here: 
I saw that what is used for a wedding or graduation is also appropriate for a memorial service so that is where I searched for ideas.
I didn't think that a memorial service needed to look straight out of the 1980s. I thought is could look updated.

I took into account Jim's favorite color-green.
His interests- fishing and nature. 

Instead of the bed spring, I will use an old door for the photo display.
The tables will have rustic crosses and candles, his picture and some antique fishing stuff on a green tablecloth.
The candles are going to be in canning jars.
My sister in law and I talked about flowers and she generously offered to get those for us. 
We wanted flowers but this really could be a no money spent area if we needed it to be. 

We'll have flowers or plants from any work people who send them but I could have decorated the table with fall leaf branches, completely in keeping with Jim's interests but it will be so nice to have flowers. 
Jim tried to explain to me once why the leaves weren't as pretty in Texas during the fall. I didn't understand what he was talking about. The day after he died, I noticed the leaves were prettier than they have ever been.

I made my list of shopping items. 
Table cloth (I should have no problem finding green during the holidays)
Crosses
Twine and clothes pins.
An old door.
Copy shop and frame for photo.
Day two - done

Day three consisted of the program for the service and the obituary for inside it. 

My daughter came over with Photoshop and she created a gorgeous program. I found the program from my mom's funeral in one of my photo albums. 
We are using some songs and scripture from it. 
The old Testament reading was Psalm 130.
(Bill and I visited a little Lutheran church this morning because I craved the comfort of being at the same kind of church I attended as a child. The pastor did the reading and sermon from Psalm 130. I was stunned but not.)
Okay back to my timeline. 

We then went to the ReStore to look for an old door.

Instead we found two sets of narrow bifold doors.
These will be perfect and I can use them in my house later. 
They were $20.00. 
That was it for day 3. We had a late lunch and I took a nap. 
After my nap I began some cleaning. 

Day 4
I was pretty spent by day 4. I thought about painting the louvered doors myself but then thought better of it. Instead I called my painter. He will come pick them up and take them back to his shop. 
I bought a few crosses for the table and some needed groceries. 
I pulled out my Blue Willow but I'm debating getting paper. I just hate eating off of paper. I don't want anyone to have to clean up after us though. 
 Next week I will go to Kinkos to copy the picture and the program, finalize the music and stop in at Hobby Lobby for more clothes pins and twine.

I used to plan retreats and events for women. I see now that God in part used that experience to help me plan this service.
Thank you so much for letting me share. 
It is amazing to me how therapeutic blogging has become. 
I found solace in writing this stuff down and I hope it will help someone else.  

Katie 















  

"I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day"

l had wanted to re-post this from last Christmas. In light of the tragic events of yesterday, it seems fitting.

My heart is broken about the shooting. I hope these words I wrote last Christmas will make sense today.

Merry Christmas!
 "I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day." is one of my favorite Christmas songs. I remember hearing this song for years, but I never really listened to the words until I downloaded the Bing Crosby version.

 I have three versions, Bing, Sarah McLachlan and The Carpenters. I love them all and can listen to each version one right after another.

I loved hearing church bells when I was a kid. There is something romantic and quaint about the sound. I hear mechanized bells near my house sometimes but it doesn't sound the same as those rung from a bell tower. Why don't we hear bells anymore? Is it a sound ordinance thing or have all the bells been silenced for other reasons? My school is on the grounds of a church that has since moved. We have bells that are broken and the headmaster told me the estimate to get them fixed was about 300 thousand dollars. That's a huge amount of money just to keep a charming tradition alive.

Church bells were rung to announce services, weddings, funerals or some other happening in the community. During WW II they were silenced in Great Britain only to be rung in the event of invasion. Have most of them been silenced since then?

This song is based on a poem written in 1864 by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. The poem is based on Luke 2:24. "Glory to God in the highest and peace on earth goodwill toward men." We were a nation in the midst of the Civil War when the poem was written. But there were other things going on in the life of Longfellow as well. His journal entry for Christmas in 1862 read, "A merry Christmas say the children, but that is no more for me." That was the year his wife died.  There is no journal entry for the next Christmas. His oldest son was killed in battle in 1863. In 1864 he must have begun to heal from his grief because that is when he wrote the poem.
These are the last two verses;
And in despair I bowed my head.
"There is no peace on earth," I said.
"For hate is strong and mocks the song,
Of peace on earth, goodwill to men."

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor does He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, goodwill to men."

This song seems as applicable today as it was in 1864. The Civil War ended shortly after the poem was written. I'm sure it seemed like God was sleeping or dead during the Civil War.
This week I heard a casual mention on the news that all troops were out of Iraq after nine years. We should have had bells ringing for that!
I have had times in my life when it seems that God is asleep. I know that He is not, but He is working behind the scenes in ways I cannot see. It seemed like that last spring when my baby brother had a devastating stroke. I knew God was there, but it was too new and too painful to see what He was doing. I hope that years down the road, by His grace, He will reveal to me and to others exactly what He was up to. In the meantime, I can trust that He is here and healing just as He was healing the grief Longfellow was feeling  in the years preceding this wonderful poem. This song gives me hope and comfort. I know it did last Christmas. I probably teared up ever time I heard it, because the grief was so fresh. My brother continues to recover, by God's grace.

I love Christmas. It isn't just the trees, decorations, gifts, family, memories and traditions that I love. I love that God was not dead or sleeping when He sent His son to earth to be a sacrifice for me. God came down to earth to become man and walk among us. 

I hope you have ''heard the bells". Have a blessed and peaceful Christmas.

Sprinkled with bells and hope,
Katie

The bells are vintage.
I have seen the little porcelain bell on E-bay. It is Japanese.
Linking with,
Funky Junk Interiors
Metamorphosis Monday.
My Heart Lives Here

Blogging Anniversary

Let's Add Sprinkles has hit a milestone! She is six months old. Should I throw a party?

No I think I'll reflect on what blogging has meant to me the last six months.

The last thing I would want is for people to think that I am shallow or materialistic.

I am sure that is how it comes across sometimes on a decorating blog.

(Oh and that I am one step away from an episode of Hoarders.) ;)

Well, in reality I am far from those things. Yes I love shopping but I am extremely frugal (cheap) and thrifting is my favorite hobby. I love the hunt and turning trash into treasure.

The last three years have been extremely difficult in several ways. This blog has helped me not only focus but refocus if that makes any sense at all.

Three years ago my husband Mr. Sprinkles (he wou allow me to call him that)(so Mr. Bill it is) and I had a child graduating from college and one from high school,

I hit the mid century mark,(don't worry, I'm not insecure about my age.)

our life at our church was dramatically halted,

and finally (the one that brings me the most pain,) my extended family began to implode!!

I don't have to explain the first two but let me briefly explain the second two.

My children called me the church lady. 

From the time I was a little girl I have loved church. 

I sang in the choir for 7 years (I have the pins to prove it.) I loved everything about it and don't even get me started on potluck suppers.

My area was women's ministry. I felt a calling to help teach women and planning retreats and other events was a right up my alley.j I loved spending summers outlining Bible studies for the fall.

All that changed when I started being paid by our church to lead Children's Ministry. There was a call for help and I knew that I could do it. 17 years teaching school had prepared me. Of course it was temporary... 

2 1/2 years worth of temporary. As soon as I joined church staff the pastor quit. (I am sure that is why he asked me to take the job. I guess he felt I could lead us through a time of transition.) Mr. Bill was an elder. 

(Can you say "perfect storm"?)

It was a nightmare. Clearly I am not called to be on staff. Every time someone left the church it was gut wrenching. Literally, my stomach started hurting all the time. The Dr. thought I had tumors on my liver!! 

All we did at home was talk church. Both of us were heavily invested, which of course lead to conflict because essentially Bill, as the finance elder, was my boss!

I know, I know. I can hear what you are saying.

It all ended very badly and put both of us in counseling with an abrupt end to our days of worship at that church.

I felt that I knew better and that I ended up letting EVERYONE down. 

I tear up just thinking about it and here I thought I was over it.

It has taken years to get over it because I loved church so much. I love God of course, but I loved the church experience. Loving God and loving church, I have realized, are two separate things. So as we rebuilt our marital relationship, thank the Lord, we settle in obeying the premise that God wants us in church, but not really feeling the same about it. Although we don't sit in the pew wondering why they are doing  what they are doing anymore. We go but we are not involved at all so we have lost a big part of our community. 

(My stomachaches stopped right after I quit my job at the church. Huh?)

Okay now the second thing. 

A few months after the explosion at the church an implosion began with my extended family.

My brother, Jim became ill with a short term memory problem. He has memory for 10 minutes and that is it. Eventually he can develop new long term memory but I am not sure how or how long that takes. My brother and his wife got him in a nursing home. At 53 he was to spend the rest of his days in long term care.
Then my brother Dave had a stroke 5 months after Jim's illness. 

Read Dave's story.

I think I went into an emotional coma during this time. 

Varying responses to this crisis have affected my family to such an extent that I am not sure we as a group can recover. My family was everything to me. 

So, in the span of a 2 years I lost my beloved church and my beloved family. 

My identity is built on neither of those things, so while it has shaken me, it hasn't broken me. I know that I placed too much importance on what was not the most important thing. When you serve the Lord in a church setting it feels right.
I learned to the detriment of my relationship with my family that is not the case. I have learned humility in this process. 

I also learned that for once I can't fix either of these things. We could get more involved in our new church but it would only put a bandaid on things.

I love the Lord, I love my family but there is a void.

I hope this gives you insight into my world. I realized I had been a little remiss in letting you see who I really am behind the paint and dust (and drop cloths).

Blogging has given me an opportunity to teach women again, an opportunity to write and grieve at the same time. I have learned some crazy computer skills and I think I take a fair photo. 

 Thank you blog world for helping me take my focus off of my circumstances and refocus on something new. 

Sprinkled with something real,

Katie
P.S. Feel free to leave a comment. It feels a little like chirping crickets after publishing a deeper post.
Thank you!!

Chocolate "Thang"

There are some people that are just cheerleaders. My husband"s Granny Vi was one of those. She was a happy lady with tons of charm and grace.

She went home to be with the Lord Wednesday morning at the age of 95.

There were two things that this fun, gracious lady always said.

"That is the cutest baby I have ever seen." 
This is what she said at the birth of my oldest.

I thought he was the cutest baby too, so it didn't occur to me that it wasn't true. 

When my husband's cousin had his first baby I heard her say.

"That is the cutest baby I have ever seen." 

All the babies were the cutest thing. He was the cutest but so were all the other great grandbabies.
 And isn't that how it should be?

The other thing she said over and over concerned food.

Vi was a healthy eater at our little family get togethers.

She was not at all shy around food. 

When she was finished she always said "Hmmm hmmm hmmm. That was so good!" "I couldn't eat another bite." " I'm so full!!" (Of course she could and she did when she went back for seconds.)
Our favorite family lunches were always brisket, potato salad and Ranch Style beans.
But, I will always remember her signature dessert.

Her assigned dessert to bring to our family Sunday lunches was 
Chocolate "Thang".

I have heard this layered dish referred to 
Chocolate Ecstasy

Layered Dessert.

Four Layered Pudding

Heavenly Layered Pudding Dessert

By now you have used your amazing power of deduction to realize 
this dessert is layered.

I have eaten it many times at family gatherings but also at church socials.

(Although in recent years, I've noticed very little potluck food is actually homemade anymore.) Too bad!

Vi either didn't know the name or she just didn't care to 
call it Four Layered Dessert.

She called it "Chocolate Thang". 
When we said it we all had varying degrees of emphasis on "Thang" 
Here is what you will need.
1 1/2 cups flour

1 1//2 sticks butter

1/2 cup pecans or to taste
1Tablespoon confectioner"s sugar
Press into a greased 9x 13 pan and bake at 350 for 25 minutes

Allow this to cool completely.

Stir together 1 package cream cheese

1 confectioner's sugar

Spread over cooled layer.
(If you want this cheesier, increase cream cheese and sugar by a half of a cup.

Beat together 3 cups milk and 2 small packages of instant chocolate pudding.

Spread over cream cheese layer.

Dress the top with an 8 oz. container of Cool Whip. Sprinkle with chocolate curls.

I was a little sad that I could not make the cute curls like Vi did. So, I just chopped up some Hersey's Chocolate bar.

Refrigerate overnight.

We will have this for a Sunday lunch in celebration of Vi's life and home going. 
I will miss her quick wit and southern charm.
I loved that she was always perfectly dressed with her little pant suits, 
blinged out with her diamonds from her dear husband.
We are going to miss her!
Sprinkled with thoughts of Vi,

Katie 

Mother's Day

Mother's Day is a bittersweet day for me. 

I lost my Mother when I was just 10 years old. 

Having my own children saved that day. 

The Graphics Fairy

For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a mom.

I loved playing with my baby dolls growing up.

The Graphics Fairy

I am sure that love for babies came from watching my mom with my two little brothers. 

Get Free Image Here.

She was very nurturing. She was also an amazing, artistic woman. She loved antiques and gardening.

 She made huge braided rugs, needle point pillows and cushions. For Christmas she knit our stockings. My parents refinished every door in our turn of the century home.
I get my love of home improvement and 

 my love of old things from both of them.

Her life was too short and she left behind a legacy of sorrow for my brothers and I. We have worked to overcome missing her, but that in part has made us who we are.

The Graphics Fairy

Most of the time I am okay. But not really on Mother's Day. Is it just me or does anyone else who has lost their mother tear up in church because of all the moms reunited with their children?
I've noticed others wiping tears from their eyes, so I don't think it's just me. 

Like I said, my children are a balm to my soul on Mother's Day.
I look at them and know that my mom would have cherished the living daylights out of them, just like I do.

They are a fulfillment of a longing I have always had for children. 
I am so proud of them and I love them.

I thought I would be so sad to see them grow up and that I would miss the years they were living at home. Instead there is a feeling of completion. I will never be done being their mom but I am content knowing that they have their lives to live and that they can now be who God created them to be.

The little old ladies all told me it would go by so fast. I didn't believe them but they were right. 

It seems like yesterday that they were this size. 

(You can't tell they are related at all!)

One thing I don't recommend is sorting through their old children's book and their baby clothes on Mother's Day Weekend.
My word! 
I hope you all have a blessed Mother's Day. 
I know for those of you who long for children this day is tough one as well.
My thoughts go out to all of you who join me in finding 
Mother's Day bittersweet.
Sprinkled with memories,
Katie   

  

    

On A Serious Note

Two years ago my baby brother had a stroke.

                

 I say baby because at the time he was only 47. He was very young.

Before March 15th 2010, I thought primarliy older people had them. I knew young people had them, but no one really talked much about it. I had heard about mini-strokes or TIA's, but not massive strokes.  

I spent all day in the garden and had gone up to change when my brother, Rob called to tell me that Dave had had the stroke. He was being air lifted to Waco from his small town. I knew immediately that this had to be more than a TIA if he was being air lifted. I frantically called my husband and daughter to see where they were so we could head down to Waco. 

It was one of those - I can't get my fingers to dial a phone number kind of moments. 

Turns out my husband was sitting in the driveway talking on the phone. 

I changed out of my gardening overalls and we hopped into the car. If I had taken a moment to think about it, I would have realized that I should have taken a change of clothes and some toiletries, but I really wasn't thinking.

My brothers and I lost both of our parents by the time I was 17 years old. We endured severe trials together so we are really close. 

 
Dave was a teacher (he can no longer teach), an avid DIYer, and a junker. 
We talked all the time. He was my go-to person for venting or laughing about school stuff and thrifty finds.

Things were very serious when we got to the hospital. He had a major stroke affecting the left side of his brain. It affects movement on the right side, but it also can damage speech. We wouldn't know about cognition, memory and other things for a while. 

He was not out of the woods, so to speak, for about 4 days and it would be a while before we would know about any long term disabilities. 

A thoughtful hotel in Waco supplied us all with toiletries when we got to it at two in the morning. 
I remember how kind they were to us. I tear up thinking about it. 
That kindness at a moment when we really needed it, still ministers to me. 

I don't remember much about the next 4 days, but a couple of things stand out. 

I remember being thankful that this happened 30 minutes after Dave parked the school bus after his route.

I was also thankful for the outpouring of the small town they had moved to.

Bill had to go back to work but Bekah came to stay with me. She was unable to find a job at the time, a blessing because I needed her strength and support. One of the joys in having adult children is seeing them rise up to the occasion when roles are reversed.  

I kept waiting for a miraculous awaking like you see on the T.V. but that did not happen. He woke up, but his recovery seemed very slow. It was a least a week before we knew that he even knew who we were. 
Miraculously he was able to get up within a week but he was a slow getting around. 

We were all so thankful he was alive, but he was completely altered by this. Before he was quick witted, with the sarcastic family humor. Suddenly he was silent. 

It sent me into a very odd sort of grieving. 
Not really a depression, although it would have been understandable to be depressed. 
I shared what happened with my friends when I got back to my life and work, but I am not sure anybody outside of the family really understood. I wouldn't have before...

But what if someone you loved suddenly couldn't speak anymore? So much of dialog is two way.
 I am pretty good at chattering if the need arises but there are only so many stories I can prattle on and on about.

Another misconception I had about strokes was that the victim could at least write to communicate. (Thank you again, television.) That was not the case here. There was really no way for Dave to communicate except by gestures. Can you imagine how frustrating that was for him? 

 Dave is probably one of the bravest people I know. It is extremely sad that he had to give up his teaching career,because he was a great teacher. As I have watched his recovery, I am really in awe of his strength. He spent 6 weeks in rehab and another 8 months away from home in a brain rehab group home. He went daily to speech, occupational, and physical therapy. People kept telling us that the brain is an amazing organ and that it has incredible powers to repair itself. 
Sometimes in midst of the long recovery process, I am not sure I believed them. 

But, it has been two years. 
There have been plateaus, but for the first time since the stroke Dave picked up the phone to call me a few weeks ago. We had a wonderful conversation, a dialog, something I will never take for granted with anyone again.

I can spot people now who have the same kind of gait and say a prayer for them, because they may have had a life altering, catastrophic brain event as well.    

The quiet person sitting in the chair may not have been quiet before. 
It is just easier to retreat to silence when communicating is so difficult. 

This is Dave and his amazing wife at the final Ranger game when they won the
ALCS Pennant in October of 2010. Dave has always been a huge baseball fan and a fan of the Rangers in all the years they lost. Their winning season kept him entertained during the long months he was away from home in rehab. I don't know, but we all felt that in God's big picture He was using this to help heal Dave and give him joy in the midst of sorrow. I'm sure he was not the only Ranger fan who found hope in their miraculous win. 
Read about it here: 

Thanks for letting me share,
Katie