Growing up, I always looked forward to family meals, especially ones at my Grandmother’s house. She loved to cook, entertain her large and wonderful family, and have her daughters nearby to help.

My aunts were all amazing; however, my Aunt Dorothy streaked to the head of the pack when it came to specialty cooking. She was a creative (tough to do in the ’50s), imaginative, and excellent cook.

She particularly excelled at building Jell-O mold salads, all individual works of art. Almost anything imaginable found its way into her salads. Cottage cheese, tiny mandarin orange slices, minuscule carrot pieces, stuffed olive slices, pineapple, miniature marshmallows, and my favorite, banana slices.

I have no idea how she created these works of art. Other family members always brought their favorite dishes (my mom’s ace in the hole was some sorta’ garlic sausage dish), but no one could overtake Aunt Dorothy.

In childhood, she contributed many things to me; the Jell-O salads are near the top of a long list of her outstanding accomplishments.

There are things about living in the South that is special and unique. Language, accents, heritage, history, and small country stores are a part of this patchwork of people and places. Stores like this were the supermarkets of the day, serving up bologna sandwiches, shoes, soda, smokes, and gossip.

Everywhere, towns have thrived, died, and returned; a small village in the South reflects generations of relatives, all doing their very best to make do with what they have. Religion, faith, and family form the backbone of the people and towns, although a love for barbecue, high school football, and farm equipment runs a close second.

The family that owns and operated this store has lived in the area for generations. Both the mother and father of the family had limited education. Yet, they ran a very successful business; they encouraged their children to graduate college, raise families in a tangible, meaningful way, and respect and nurture the land they own.

When the extended family is together for a holiday or celebration, there’s always enough food for more families to join in; no one is ever a stranger to these folks.

Even me, a native Californian.

Today, I learned about the passing of my friend’s wife after a long illness; it is, coincidentally, her birthday.

The couple have been married for more than 60 years. They have a wonderful family; she was a delightful person, a revered teacher to thousands of children, a mom, a grandmother, and a dear friend to all (she also loved banana pudding most of all.)

A passage from the Bible (John 16:22) beautifully reminds us: “So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again, and you rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.” It’s a comforting message about hope and the promise of joy returning.

Her smile, laughter, and goodness will remain with us always.

Not long ago, in a new city for the first time, we went into a trendy restaurant located next to a maritime museum. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and the restaurant was packed. As we squeezed into our seats, we made room for another couple; while it was a tight fit, soon we were talking together. They were residents from the area, and we were first-timers; however, we shared many common interests. They were delighted to hear we were visiting and having such a good time.

When it came time to pay our bill, the server told us our new friends had paid for our lunch; this was a surprise to us and, indeed, a random act of kindness from a couple we’d met 45 minutes earlier. Amazing things do happen when you least expect them to.

Our church choir flew across the Atlantic to sing. The choir from St Stephen’s Episcopal Church, our church in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, brought the Evensong service of choral music, chant, and prayer to life in London’s Westminster Abbey. Our choir and supporters (50+ strong) were in London for a series of choral concerts and tour highlights for 10 days. While performances varied, Evensong, performed in this world-famous church, is a highlight.

Our choir (and our director of music) bring their voices and joy to us every Sunday. As a member of St Stephen’s, I feel proud when I imagine this group presenting Evensong in this prestigious church. The collective voices of the group filling the space remind me of the inspiration and passion this service brings to life. Whenever I go to our services, I will have my friends who went to London and their incredible performance on my mind. What an incredible gift.

We are so thankful to have a 24/7 car pass that allows us to visit Arlington National Cemetery around the clock, any day of the year. We received this two years ago when my wonderful, loving cousin Jean was interred there, and we attended the service.

This forever pass is something I treasure; as we drove through the gates of Arlington, I instantly felt a sense of calm and reverence. On our visit, it was a perfect spring day, with beautiful buds opening on trees everywhere.

We walked around Jean’s headstone, reading other inscriptions and awards for others interred there. The experience is like reading a roll call of the most amazing people you’ve never met. The awards are small reminders of the actions of people who gave their all in the service of our country; in many, many instances, people not even old enough to vote are in the company of 4 and 5-star leaders.

I look forward to another visit with my cousin and the thousands of others sharing her hallowed ground.

One of my wonderful bird friends stopped off yesterday morning for a bath. The bird flew towards me as I watched, landing directly in front of me. Seconds later, there was a flurry of wing action, whipping up the water. It was so fun to watch; I took a photo while the water was flying, but you can’t see the bird for the flurries. It was a simple pleasure of life for the bird and me.

Two weeks ago, I was in the Arlington National Cemetery celebrating the services of a family member. As I walked through the cemetery, I felt a sense of calm; all around me, more than 400,000 people are resting there.

Their grave markers tell who they are, yet not what they did. No matter, in every case, these are the true Champions of our Nation. They share a space with no bounds of discord, only a lovely, peaceful home where each one is honored. It’s a powerful place. It was my honor and privilege to be there with them.

Brilliant lights are shining when you least expect them to. One of them came to me yesterday in the form of a digital link to Handel’s Messiah performance; it is an audio recording of the Saint Thomas Choir of Men and Boys in New York City that they initially performed in 2019. St Thomas is a beautiful Church, and their music programs are outstanding. During my time working in New York City, I often visited the church. After moving away, I continued to visit, especially around the Christmas holiday season. So, here I am, in East Tennessee, listening to the full performance, envisioning the choir and the church’s comfort surrounding me.