Give Me the Roses While I Live

I had my belated birthday party Saturday at my meeting's education building, a potluck and singing that brought out 39 guests, one for each year of my life so far.
I realized at some point that there were more people in the room that I loved than out of it- a rare and precious thing. And they all talked to each other: my teaching friends and singing friends and Quaker friends from four meetings (Berkeley, Strawberry Creek, San Francisco, and Oakland Worship Group). We ate, made birthday posters (more about that in another post) and were drenched with music: miriam played the piano, Bryan stopped by to sing and play guitar, and some brave souls stayed on until the end to sing with us or listen to us sing from the Sacred Harp.

It meant so much to me to have my singing friends there, singing the music that has brought healing to my heart over these four years since I discovered it. Our meeting has had a rough few months, and I feel like going to memorials has become a way of life. So this music that acknowledges so honestly the presence of death was a much needed balm, as much as we joked about the appropriateness of so much "gloom and doom" at a birthday celebration. It didn't feel gloomy to me at all, but rather, deeply joyful.
blurry, I know, but I couldn't resist this shot of altos from 3 quaker meetings and the UCB Sacred Harp group.

I opened our little sing with a few words of explanation, and then led 49t Old Hundred as a relatively easy and familiar tune to get us started. Then David explained all the crucial information I had forgotten to say (thanks, David!) and we kept going around the circle, with people sometimes choosing songs that made them think of me, and sometimes something that they just particularly enjoyed. When it came to Susan's second turn to lead a song, she asked me if I had a request, to which I replied, "No, just pick something you love." So she had us sing 475 A Thankful Heart, saying that seemed a fitting song for me.

Give me a calm, a thankful heart
From ev'ry murmur free;
The blessing of Thy grace impart,
and make me live to Thee.

Let the sweet hope that Thou art mine
My life and death attend;
Thy presence through my journey shine,
And crown my journey's end.

I was touched because it is a song that has special significance for me. It was a song that I called a lot when Carol was dying. A friend said that there are Friends in meeting that we all know when they die that they will leave a big hole, but that she didn't think that anyone realized what a big hole Carol would leave. Of all the Friends I am mourning these days, I think I mourn Carol the most, and she certainly was most on my mind as I planned this party. She used whatever activity or event in her life to draw others into community, whether that community was our meeting, her workplace, or her neighborhood.

All in all, a lovely, simple evening. Ooh, and presents:


The perfect assortment of presents, I would add: flowers, cards, a couple books, a booklight, homegrown zucchini, homemade jam, chocolate, a foldable bag, a tee shirt (I am flattered, Denise, but we'll definitely need to exchange that for another size!), a Sacred Harp CD, and a Peets gift card. Enough stuff to make me feel celebrated, not so much that I felt weighed down with clutter, and all of it useful, interesting and/or pretty. Lucky, lucky me.