Farmington Presbyterian Manor
OCTOBER 2021
Editor’s note: This month’s guest chaplain is Greg Schmidt, chaplain for Heart & Soul Hospice of Wichita and Newton Presbyterian Manor. In a nod to our Presbyterian heritage, we will be periodically sharing columns from our community chaplains in your Community Matters newsletter.
Chaplain’s Corner What birds can teach us about faith
Addressing my life
By Greg Schmidt, Chaplain
Rewriting an old address book reveals how connections and relationships have changed By Marcia Byalick I spent a bittersweet and humbling afternoon doing a job most people born after 1970 have never done. It was a task familiar to people who buy stamps and send anniversary cards. The kind of person who still writes checks and leaves voice messages. It was a quiet, tech-free activity where I communed with some of the characters who’ve drifted in and out of my life. Like weeding the garden or cleaning out the junk drawer, the task wound up more daunting than I anticipated. For three hours last Thursday, I rewrote my address book.
I can hear a few birds talking to one another outside my office window. Grackles squawk and beg for peanutflavored suet. Sparrows chirp about how greedy the grackles are any time any food is available. And the Baltimore Orioles are sharing that they discovered a well of Welch’s® grape jelly! How do I know what they’re saying? Because I sit for hours on my deck … and listen! (I’m secretly hoping the birds will come and sit on my shoulder or perch on my hand!) Trust me, birds live in a never-ending search for food!
Marcia Byalick's address book Credit: Marcia Byalick
For those who grew up with all their contact information stored on their phone, an address book (which for my first 40 years I called a phone book), is a handwritten paper directory with A-Z tabs along the edge. It caught me off guard, those hours spent retracing my past. Who do I choose to not transcribe again? Mine was decades-old, a bulging mess of business cards and outdated details held together with a rubber band. It was a practical document full of how to get in touch with plumbers and doctors and neighbors and hairdressers. And cousins and lawyers and colleagues and friends. And a repository of lives lived and lost. Restaurants, and people “out of
Addresses – continued on page 2
Interestingly, the Bible says God provides for the needs of the sparrow. But that doesn’t mean those little chirpers can just sit back and have it delivered! Sure, the food is there. Available. But they have to go in search of it! By the way, it’s the same for you and I. Only our never-ending search is for love! It’s there. Available. Jesus said, “For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and the one who knocks, the door will be opened.” (Matthew 7:8). In this case, love is
Chaplain – continued on page 4
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ADDRESSES – continued from page 1 business.”A chapter in the book about me.
caring and laughs provided by friends mean more than ever.
to have all the particulars in one place.
It caught me off guard, those hours spent retracing my past. Who do I choose to not transcribe again? Some decisions are more clear cut than others.
The number of Florida addresses highlighted the passage of time. Some of my friends have been at an address as familiar to me as my own; some moved four times. I felt bereft rewriting addresses with half a couple. So many stories.
Lastly, in the icky getting-affairs-inorder category ICID (in case I die), a paper address book — a mash-up of the personal and the professional — is straightforward access to all you need to know.
The vet for my cat who died 10 years ago? Out. My first cousin who I lost touch with around the same time? Hmmm, he stays in. That old college friend; do I have any intention of staying in touch? Probably not. So do I “lose” her – delete her – forever? That's a hard one. Occupations and Addresses From the Past I rolled my eyes at the convoluted way I double-entered certain people for quicker retrieval under their name: Frank, James and their occupation — Accountant, Gardener. It surprised me how seemingly irrelevant last names were of those my car and nails and home depend on. I also added some new names. This year was a chips-are-down time for me, and the number of random people and distant friends who stepped up deserve to be included. After a challenging year, the love,
“Why didn't you just update your contacts?” asks my daughter. For so many reasons she'd find unreasonable. In no special order, there's the near and dear issue of WHAT IF. My generation likes a back-up. A Valuable Hard Copy A “real” address book won’t crash or become corrupted or be rendered useless if there's a power failure or a natural disaster. It won’t be stolen, its hard drive won’t fail and its battery won't die. It'll never have to be revived in a bowl of rice if it’s accidentally dropped in the toilet. Of course, I recognize the worth of my cell phone’s memory for speed dialing. I still like myself a hard copy. The lo-fi list of the address book's whereabouts in my kitchen drawer is easy to reference for Christmas cards and party invites. When I recently had to call all my credit card companies and banks, it was handy
Anyone I’ve asked who still uses an address book admits it’s been in their lives for so long, it's “worn and tattered,” and “falling apart.” They share my belief that between its covers are not just organized facts; there’s an accounting of the center stage and bit players featured in our lifetime memories. That’s why when I finished up at Z, I put the old, battered copy — the one with my father’s last phone number and the no-longer accurate addresses of places I laughed and learned and grieved — in a drawer in my bedroom. Next to the even older address book in my mother’s handwriting. There is comfort in the fact that my contacts are in the cloud, preserved in the digital world. Safe there along with the hundreds of photos on my phone. But the cloud will never elicit the kind of sighs or smiles as the shelf of a dozen photo albums in my den. Or a glance back through my obsolete, dilapidated address book. It’s good to have back up. u
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COMMUNITY MATTERS | October 2021
is published monthly for residents and friends of Farmington Presbyterian Manor by Presbyterian Manors of Mid-America, Inc., a not-for-profit 501(c)(3) organization.
To submit or suggest articles: kjameson@PMMA.org Jane Hull, executive director Keely Jameson, marketing director
OUR MISSION: To provide quality senior services guided by Christian values.
Hull Family Fellowship Center opens for business Toward the end of July, the steering committee for the Give. Gather. Grow. Campaign came together for an official walk through of the new Hull Family Fellowship Center at Farmington Presbyterian Manor. The fellowship center, which offers space for community activities, learning opportunities and family get togethers, has already been put to good use for resident movie nights, an employee skill fair and various family events. Thanks to the following committee members for their generosity and diligence in making this dream a reality: co-chairs Nancy Sullivan and Byron Taylor; Patti Christen; Jon Cozean, Ph.D.; Rev. John Goodwin; Executive Director Jane Hull; Kim Long; Jennifer McClanahand; Sarah Oenning; Becky Panchot; Matt Sebastian and Carol Willman, Ph.D. u
Sarah Oenning, vice president of giving, Nancy Sullivan and Dr. Jon Cozine, steering committee members, and Executive Director Jane Hull admire the fellowship center’s new state-of-the-art kitchen.
From left, Jane Hull, Nancy Sullivan, committee co-chair, and Carol Bloom and Dr. Jon Cozean, steering committee members.
From left Byron Taylor, committee co-chair, and Rev. John Goodwin, committee member, and Executive Director Jane Hull enjoy the shade provided by the patio and ceiling fans.
Farmington Presbyterian Manor | A PMMA COMMUNITY
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500 Cayce St. Farmington, MO 63640-2910 RETURN SERVICE REQUESTED
Chaplain – continued from page 1 there … but action is necessary. We have to search for it! So, I’m happy to report that the longer I spend time with my Presbyterian Manor and Heart & Soul Hospice workmates and families, the more I understand and appreciate how plentiful love is! It’s there for the searching! Acts of Love. Compassion. The efforts to assist others in discovering peace of mind and spirit – for the patient and the employees – the energy given to providing a helping hand, a forgiving and encouraging spirit. Grace. Mercy. Patience for residents/patients … and their families. Generosity. Pay it forward attitudes and actions. A gentle touch. A shoulder to cry on.
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Someone to laugh with. Being a fellow burden-bearer and prayer warrior! I see them all the time! They’re here! At Presbyterian Manor! My grandkids created a sign for me and my wife that says, “Next time you feel alone … don’t!” It’s their way of saying back to Gram and Pops what we always say to them; namely, “We’re here! We want to share life with you! We love you more than you will ever realize! Make the phone call! Write the text! Stop one or both of us and say, ‘I’m lonely or needy!’ Remember, we’re not mind-readers, but we’ll respond faster and love you deeper than you could ever imagine!’” It’s love given. And love returned. No one has to enter into a never-ending search. It’s here! So, keep “chirping!” Let your needs be known! So many of our staff serve a
COMMUNITY MATTERS | October 2021
God that has a never-ending supply of love. And lots of us are following Him as closely as we know how. P.S. If you don’t provide your Baltimore Orioles with “Welch’s grape jelly” … according to the husband of a past resident, they will come peck on your kitchen window and tell you, “Go back to Dillons® and get Welch’s, not Smucker’s®!” They’re grape jelly snobs. Just thought you should know! u