Bon Voyage, Grandpa Swift

My Grandpa Swift died on Monday, March 9. He'd recently started dialysis for kidney failure. This morning, a group of friends from church and school gathered at our apartment for a short "saying good-bye" service, and right now my family is gathering in Pittsford, NY for the funeral. I am so grateful for the support of our friends and our community of faith here in Bratislava! At the funeral, my mom will read the eulogy I wrote this week, which I pasted below. I love that my dad found a photo to go with my memory of Grandpa making that amazing red hot applesauce.

The eulogy text is below. For photos, obituary, eulogy audio and a guestbook where you can leave or read memories of Grandpa and/or condolences for the Swift family, go to this website that Sean made: www.edison-albright.com/paulswift.

A Eulogy for Grandpa Swift

I have many favorite photos of Paul Swift, my grandpa. Some of them aren’t actual photos—just vivid snapshots in my memory.
There’s grandpa standing over a stove at Christmastime, making me my first bowl of what would become one of my favorite treats: applesauce with melted red hot candies.
There’s grandpa at my high school graduation party, out on the back porch surrounded by teenagers who sit in a semi-circle at his feet, gazing up adoringly at him as he talks about literature, mathematics, art and classical music.
There’s grandpa sitting in the cool, airy library at the house in Maine where we had two reunions, happily holding baby Monica in a beam of sunlight. You, too, can probably imagine a favorite picture of Paul Swift holding a baby; grandpa loved holding babies.

One mental picture I have of grandpa comes from the notes he recently wrote up from his time as a soldier during WWII. The way he wrote it makes this another vivid snapshot, and it’s one I find myself coming back to again and again since he passed away on Monday. In an entry from Manila dated August 28, 1945, Paul Swift writes:
“We moved to a much better site on the coast. We spent much time in the ocean. We took our big mattress bags, wet them and ran with them to blow them up. The end was tied in a knot and the result was a big float. I laid on mine and went paddling out into the ocean. Everything went well until I noticed I was far from shore. I cannot swim so if the knot in my mattress came undone I was a goner. Somehow the water washed me up on the beach.
I had left my shoes near a bamboo-and-stick shack, and not only were [the shoes] not there, but I didn’t recognize any of the other soldiers as my friends. I was certain that I had died.
Only later did I see another shack some distance down the beach. There I found my shoes and my buddies. How good it was to find that I was alive after all!”

On March 9, 2009, Paul Swift floated away from shore one more time. He paddled out onto the waters of a lifetime of memories: that makeshift mattress-bag float in the Pacific Ocean, the smell of bananas coming from the port in Panama, London rains, cold shocks of ocean over rocky beaches in Maine, Fourth of July bonfires reflected on Conesus Lake, and sunsets sparkling on the Gulf of Mexico. These waters flowed together into a source water: the water of his baptism.

The water that bathed his head in promises, that carried and sustained him through his life of faith, now carried him even farther from shore. It was the only shore he’d ever known, and he couldn’t swim. No one could swim this one on their own. That’s frightening. But the promises that were made to Paul in baptism—that he is a child of God, that his sins are forgiven, and that he will share in the resurrection hope of eternal life—these promises are the most reliable flotation device, ever.

And just like the ocean on that August day in Manila, these waters of life and baptism brought Paul safely to a beach. When he got to the beach in Manila, he was greeted by strangers: they weren’t the soldiers he knew and had come to call his friends (and they didn’t know where his shoes were, either). This time, when he reached the heavenly shore, Grandpa Swift was welcomed by a God who is no stranger to him. God has known and loved Paul completely, his whole life, and God has been with him through every moment of his life. I imagine God giving Grandpa a warm, loving welcome and Grandpa saying, “Uh huh, well! It’s good to see you, too!”
Grandpa wrote: “I was certain that I had died. Only later did I see another shack some distance down the beach. There I found my shoes and my buddies. How good it was to find that I was alive after all!”
Sixty-four years after this experience on the ocean, Paul Swift died. He was carried safely to that distant shore by the promises of his baptism, the hope of the resurrection, and the prayers and loving thoughts of his family and friends. Some of these family and friends are here today, some join in spirit from their homes across the country and around the world, and some of the saints who have gone before are with us, too, part of the great cloud of witnesses.
Together we gather to grieve and celebrate. Together, we hold tight to each other even as we let go. Waving our damp tissues, we say “bon voyage, rest in peace. We love you. We miss you. We will remember you, always.” And we join Grandpa in saying: “How good it is to be alive, after all!” How good it is for Grandpa Swift, as he starts this new, eternal life with God.
Let us pray:
Loving God, we are missing our grandpa, father, husband, brother and friend, Paul Swift. Thank you for welcoming him to his heavenly home, to his new life on a new shore, with all your love and compassion for him. Be with us as we mourn our loss, celebrate his amazing life, and give thanks for his new life with you. We pray, trusting in your mercy, Amen.

Sweeeeeet

Many things here are familiar, or at least, it's not such a stretch to adapt to the differences. But when we want to impress our friends and family with an exotic factoid, we tell them about "sweet lunch."

"Sweet lunch" is a phrase we learned during orientation, used to describe days when dessert is served as an entree at our school cafeteria. Jelly donuts, pirogis filled with blueberry and dusted with chocolate, and spaghetti noodles covered with chocolate sauce are all sweet meals we'd seen or heard about. We went for a long time without directly experiencing it, though, and the anticipation made it take on mythic significance in my mind.

Our first real sweet lunch experience occurred on Monday--and it was really no big deal. Our friend and colleague Peter described it as "dumplings in vanilla cream": the dumplings were like pieces of challah bread, and the cream sauce was like a thin sweetened condensed milk ... not too sweet at all, and the bread was lovely and satisfying. Also lovely was the soup, which featured very hearty and protein-rich beans and sausage (yay!) and a piece of watermelon for dessert. My old fears about getting a balanced meal were banished and replaced by fears about whether or not I could balance all three plates on one tray--the women at the lunch counter and I had a good laugh as I tried to figure that out!

Speaking of sweet adaptations: we hooked our new-to-us TV up to the cable today and watched The Simpsons ... in German. I've seen those reruns so many times that only new voices and a new language I don't really understand could make it fresh again--I laughed a whole, whole lot. I also watched Scrubs in German--the guy dubbing Dr. Cox is brilliant. I'd like to think Sarah Chalke, who plays Elliot, is doing her own dubbing, being German and German-speaking and all. I'll have to see if they have credits for the actors doing the dubbing next time ...

...except that I really should be writing my first sermon, which is coming up on Sunday. I'm excited for the opportunity to preach here! I've got a hymn of the day picked out, which is a good start, and some good thoughts that are making their way to the page.

Goodnight! Sweeeet dreams!

So ... how's that list coming?

Today is the day Sean and I depart for Slovakia; our flight leaves from O'Hare at 10 pm and will arrive in Vienna at 5:30 pm tomorrow. Today is also our two-year wedding anniversary. It seems fitting and auspicious to begin our adventure together this way, this day!

But, you may ask, what ever happened to that To-Do list you made back in June? It was completed, and quickly replaced by other lists. But it's worth taking another look, just to give me a small sense of accomplishment on a morning when we aren't ... quite ... packed (one of our brand new suitcases had a defective zipper. Eh, could be worse. We're going back to exchange it today. Plenty of time! =))

Done in June, July and August as preparation for pastoral internship and mission volunteering in Slovakia:

1. Sold most of our earthly possessions. This went really well, as previously reported. We are free of excess stuff and it's great. Very liberating. We hope to never own a car again. But before you make us saints of simple-living, know that we have probably over-packed for our trip. Neither of us is really sure how to pack for going abroad for a whole year--what clothes to bring or to leave--and we've both leaned toward "bring" since we have this neat allowance from the ELCA to go over our bag and weight limit. This is probably a mistake, but we won't know what was right to bring and what was wrong until we get there. If we do another short term mission assignment, we'll be better prepared for this part. Still, I'm going to take another look in the bags today and pull out what I can.

2. Went to the Jersey Shore, soaked it up. Sean is really hoping my first call will be to shore town. As long as there's a boardwalk with rides, soft serve, fried oreos and mini-golf, I'm there!

3. Prayed. For my family, missing Jason, and for my future students, the third years: at the end of this past year one of their classmates committed suicide. For my cousin L and my sister M who are sick. For safe travels and preparations for all the missionaries I met at orientation--and for all of us in that group, for support and love as we navigate transitional times. This is one that can't be checked off the list! Please keep us in your prayers, especially as we travel today and tomorrow.

4. Got trained. I'm still processing everything I learned at the Bread for the World Hunger Justice Leader training. The days were densely packed and each workshop was full of useful, engaging and meaningful material. If I'd been good, I would have blogged every night. Sleeping is for the weak. =)

This picture is from the training, and it's on the Bread for the World page promoting a really exciting campaign that all of you voter-types living in the US should consider taking part in: BEAT Hunger 2008. You sign up, Bread sends you emails when there are political events/townhall meetings in your area, you go and ask the candidates a question relating to domestic or world hunger, and maybe someone goes with you and records it and puts the whole exchange up on YouTube. Candidates start to realize that hunger is a real and relevant campaign issue, and should be a priority for them when elected as well. This will be tricky to do from Slovakia, but my dad signed up last night; you can join him by signing up here, and reading more about it here.

5. Wrote prayers for Sundays and Seasons. Look for my intercessory prayers in 2010: the First and Second Sundays of Christmas, Epiphany Sunday, Vigil of Easter and Easter Sunday. The Easter Vigil prayers were the most fun to write: if you haven't been to an Easter Vigil service, I highly recommend it!

6. Enjoyed New Jersey. We did! And we miss it. We've also enjoyed Park Ridge, my hometown. It's been very, very good to have this time with my folks, but I bet they'll be glad to have their condo, and they're regular routine, back! We're looking forward to getting into a regular routine of our own.

7. Enjoyed our family. This is also not something that gets crossed off the list. We will continue to do this, if from afar, over Skype, through emails and letters, and with the pictures y'all post. As we told our niece and nephew, "It'll still be good, just different."

We very much enjoyed time with our friends and family at the sermon/sending/anniversary party my folks hosted August 3. It reminded me of my high school graduation party, and our wedding reception, too ... so many good people coming together from different parts of our lives, interacting with each other in neat and unexpected ways, the room filled with warm, good feeling. Laurel said: "This is a good group, this is a safe place." It's true! We are blessed to have such a strong, loving support network. (And prayer shawls, from the St. Luke's Prayer Shawl Ministry--we also have one Mim made us for our wedding--we were advised to bring 'em all, as it can be cold indoors and outdoors in the winter!)

So, what's left to do? Replace that suitcase, finish packing, take it all apart and pack again, get on the plane. Do these things that are ongoing ... Enjoy our family! Pray! Wistfully remember New Jersey! Depart for a new place, knowing that we are loved unconditionally, glad for grace.

Sermon Podcast: Bread for the Journey

I was honored to preach this morning at St. Luke's, my home congregation. The texts were Isaiah 55:1-5; Psalm 145; Romans 9:1-5; and Matthew 14:13-21. I also got to do the children's message, but I'll post more on that later! Also for a later post: a report on the wonderful party we had back at our house after church.

But for now, subscribe to our podcast (via iTunes or other software) or download and listen to the sermon here. The text of the sermon (not a transcript, but close enough) is available as a pdf here and as a Word document here.

It was a wonderful day spent with family and friends. Now it's 10 pm and my dad is starting to turn off all the lights around the house ... must be bedtime for Edison-Swift-Albrights. I will not argue! But first, a picture of me and Mommy, after the service:

You can see more pictures from the service and the party on our flickr page.

Ketchup

Ketchup on my hot dog*
While I catch up on my blog
To fill this screen
I need lycopene
Or a quick trip to Prague.

Yeah, the last line was a stretch for the sake of rhyme scheme. I'm open to suggestions. I was actually considering: "Or maybe just a nap," but that wouldn't scan AND would drive my parents crazy. We're in heads down, all-productive mode here at the Edison-Swift-Albright house: tomorrow I preach at the Thursday evening contemporary service, and then at the Sunday morning services at St. Luke's. Sean and my parents will also serve at these services in various roles: lectors, communion assistants and ushers. After the services Sunday morning we'll be hosting a rather large number of family and friends back at the condo: it is exciting, wonderful and there are preparations to be made. But first! A quick ketchup on the past month.
...
From the ELCA-specific orientation at the Lutheran Center we went to Hyde Park and the Ecumenical Orientation, joining missionaries and staff from the Presbyterian Church USA and the Reformed Church of America. Many in our group got a nasty cold, which we dubbed "missionella" or "missionaires' disease." Sean got it and it eventually made its way to me--luckily there was a sweet spot for noodle soup nearby.
...
After going to see The Dark Knight at a theater near Navy Pier, a group of us took the el home. It was pretty late at night and all was subdued on the red line heading south--until a women screamed, clearly distressed. The anxiety in the car rose as she screamed again--and just as suddenly all broke into laughter and relief as someone reported to the packed train: "It's a moth!" It was a huge moth, and, still laughing (and screaming a little,) we all spent the space before the next stop dodging and swinging at it. The moth made its way to the door and was liberated by a CTA employee as he exited, smiling and shaking his head.

It could have been a real emergency; it wasn't and I was grateful. Both for the safety the woman and all of us on the el, and for the chance to laugh together with friends and strangers.
...
At closing worship for the Ecumenical Orientation, Rachel (who will have a communications position in Cambodia) reflected on this ee cummings poem:

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

Rachel said that orientation was helping her to realize that this poem applies not only to the people we love and will leave behind in the US, but also to the people we will meet and walk together with as we journey. We will carry them in our heart; they will carry us in theirs. It was one of the most touching, meaningful moments of orientation. Healing, too, for hearts like ours that might feel heavy with carrying--healing like the leaves of "a tree called life."
...
From the University of Chicago and the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago in Hyde Park we went north by limo (!) to Kenosha and Carthage College, site of the Summer Missionary Conference. There we enjoyed swimming in Lake Michigan (brrrrr!), challenging the young women of the volleyball camp to a beach volleyball game (winner: the mosquitoes), playing pool and the occasional polka.
Sean and I were particularly lucky in that my supervisors, David and Carla, and Josh (who is returning to the US after being the associate pastor in Bratislava), where all also at the conference. We're also particularly lucky to be going where we're going, learning from such great people! But more on that throughout the year. =)

We were blessed and commissioned as missionaries--while I have to admit to some orientation fatigue, there was a sense that everything we'd learned, experienced and reflected on had led up to that moment. And even with a month of preparation, that moment was a little overwhelming for me: such a blessing, such a gift, such a responsibility and a privilege! After closing worship we were quickly herded onto a bus to back to Chicago, where most got on planes to begin final preparations for their departure. Sean and six others stayed in Kenosha for 18 hours of intensive training and certification for teaching English as a Second Language. After a month of serious bonding, it was hard to see our friends scatter. It is good to know we'll be seeing many of the other Horizon interns in November, and this Internet thing is nice, too.

There's so much more I want to write about, but I can't justify another moment away from sermon-prep. I'll just have to work on my blogging discipline. And my poem writing. =) We didn't take very many pictures during orientation (we have to get in the habit of taking photos when there aren't any nieces or nephews involved!) but the ones we got are nice, and you can view them here.

*For the sake of realism, I actually did eat a hot dog with ketchup as I composed the poem. Delicious!

Meringue recipe and midwestern accents

Good times/"wuder" ice were had by all! It was a really lovely visit. One highlight of the evening for me was sharing the Mary/marry/merry dilemma with Diana and Sarah: Diana and I grew up in practically the same part of Illinois and we both grew up thinking (and even learning in school) that those three words were homophones. We also can't distinguish (sound-wise) between the names Erin and Aaron. Context is all. =) The best part is that most midwesterners have no idea this is unusual and most English-speakers outside of the midwest don't realize we’re doing it ... but when it's pointed out the midwesterners are befuddled, the non-midwesterners are totally horrified and hilarity ensues. I still maintain—and Diana will back me up, I’m sure—that the Chicago accent is delightful in its newscastery goodness. After all these years of thinking we’re the bland “standard”, though, it is kind of neat to find out that there’s something we do with vowels that the rest of the English-speaking world finds unbelievable (even if it does open me up to teasing by my Philly family.)


Sarah is allergic to gluten and dairy, so I ditched the usual cupcakes and went with meringues. I’m really starting to like these! They are simple to make, but take a long time to harden.

The recipe is here, on our recipe database site. A few notes to add: I haven’t gone the full three hours for baking yet, because I’m too antsy and I like them still a little marshmellowy in the middle. Two hours is the limit of my patience. I let them dry and cool in the oven over night. I used a piping bag and large tips this time but a plastic bag with the corner cut out or two spoons work well, too. I add about two heaping tablespoons of good cocoa powder to half the egg whites to make the chocolate ones. I know there are ways to keep them from cracking, but I think of it as the “homemade” stamp. In this case, it was good that they cracked, because it made it easier to split the tops from the bottoms; while I remembered not to flour the baking sheets, I didn’t remember Sarah’s dairy allergy and, yes, buttered the baking sheets. D’oh! Sarah did a very liturgical job of splitting the meringues, though. Sometimes you’re sitting around chatting and you forget you’re hanging out with an Anglican priest and a very-soon-to-be Episcopal deacon. And then the meringue is professionally broken for you, and you think, “Sweet!”

Traveling mercies and blessings to Diana and Sarah! Diana is ordained tomorrow! Tomorrow my parents depart (three weeks! what is an enmeshed child to do?) and Sean and I will be at the shore, hopefully enjoying some Annie-caught flounder. Time to start packing!

So you're going to move (again)

The last time I started a blog and kind of stuck with it, the first entry was a To-Do before moving list. I did my best both to keep it fun and whimsical and also to make it about more than just food (I do still miss the food in Houston … so cheap, so good, so gourmet-you-can-get-wearing-jeans.) Faced with less than a month (!) left in New Jersey, I find the task of keeping the stress and preponderance of food out of my list a little daunting. It is go time, people. If I don’t feast on Atlantic coast sea creatures now … when? Who knows when mussels in red sauce will be so good, plentiful and local for us again?

So, here’s my new To-Do—a little less whimsical, a little more realistic, but still great fun and part of an adventure I’m so, so glad for. Every once and awhile Sean and I stop what we’re doing and just grin at each other, or embrace, still unable to completely believe that we’re this blessed.

Without any more ado …

To-Do in June when you are selling all your earthly possessions and moving to Slovakia for a year:

1. Sell all earthly possessions. We’ve got to get a move-on on this. I think we’re going for three fronts next week: Craig’s List, apartment bulletin boards and family members. There might be a yard sale with the help of our siblings (and their yard, ha!) Some of our very most treasured things we’ll keep with family, I think, though we haven’t explicitly asked anyone yet (it shouldn’t be too much stuff … my cupcake carrier and Sean’s cast iron pan are all I can think of at the moment. =).) We think we’ll drive to Chicago and try to sell the car there—anyone in the metro area looking for an incredibly fuel efficient, lightly-used Toyota? It’s a great little car.

2. Go to Jersey Shore and soak it up. We’re talking Pirate Island Mini Golf, the Ocean City Boardwalk and all the rides and terrible/wonderful food that entails, fishing, flying our anniversary kite on the beach (our gift to ourselves on our first wedding anniversary last year) and eating mussels in red sauce until I am sick or sick of them. Mmmmm, creatures. I can’t wait for this weekend!

3. Pray. You’d think this was a professional hazard, goes without saying, etc., but my folks are doing some serious traveling this month and that, uh, makes me less forgetful about praying. June 19th is also the one year anniversary of my cousin’s suicide; prayers and good thoughts sent the way of my family—especially Jason’s mom, dad, sister, brother, and fiancé—would be wonderful and appreciated.

4. Get trained. June 14-17 I’ll be in Washington DC getting trained by Bread for the World to be a Hunger Justice Leader; on the 17th I’ll hit the Hill for Lobby Day. Read about the Global Poverty Act here.

5. Write prayers. I’m writing intercessory prayers for Sundays and Seasons, 2010. It was pretty great to see my name and work in the 2009 edition that just came out! (Check out the alternate worship texts for Lent and Easter!)

6. Enjoy New Jersey. One more romantic dinner at Oh!Yoko, another trip to the rootbeer stand, The Taco House, the farmer’s market, McMillan’s Bakery. Walks in the park across the street, walks to the custard/water ice stand.

7. Enjoy our family. We had a wonderful Bon Voyage Party last weekend and have plans to see other folks before we go.
Here's one picture from the party (it's in the photo set I linked to above.) The US and Slovak flags are a gift from Sean's parents. We love them!

This afternoon we’re expecting guests—Diana and Sarah, good friends of mine from Yale Div. Diana has her first call at an Episcopal parish in Rittenhouse Square; I think I’m going to introduce the two of them to water ice today. I will teach them the correct pronunciation, too: “wuder ice.” Hee. Yeah, I’m excited to get going, but I’m surely going to miss this place. In June 2005 I wrote: “I feel like this is a good choice. I think the mental transition is going to take some time.” This is most certainly still true.