The Caring Catalyst

Who Cares - What Matters

NOT JUST ANOTHER DAY AFTER

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One of my favorite memories for years on end was one that I was never a part of.

It was always the day after Thanksgiving and very early after coffee and nut roll and a light breakfast, my sister, my mother, my grandmother, and sometimes my aunt would all venture either downtown, or in very later years, to the mall to do what to shop fericiously, even before there was a Black Friday.

And shop they did; they invented the phrase SHOP TILL YOU DROP, and they literally would come home exhausted with packages upon packages, most of them not wrapped because that was another venture, too. They would come home to what hungry people, mostly the kids and the guys who didn’t go shopping all day but sat around and watched football and waited and waited and waited for the girls to come home so that they could scarf down the reheated Thanksgiving dinner that we had the night before.  It was the same dinner and yet, somehow, it tasted better if that’s possible; maybe the tired but happy hands that prepared it was just the PINCH of that little something, something that made it taste better; no matter, it was delicious, even in memory form these 55-60 years later.

Why did it always taste better then?  Why would a memory like this bring so much peace when I wasn’t even a part of it?  But what I was a part of, the very fact of that feeling that it brought me when I can still hear the crunch of the gravel knowing that they were home safely and what was about the follow was another great meal even better family time and sometimes a game of trivia pursuit.  It defined fun in a way a dictionary never has been able to capture.  It brought peace in a way that nice ocean waves or a calm lake or a babbling. brook never could interpret.  And what it brought most of the time couldn’t be defined, or couldn’t be explained and even now barely understood, even all of these years later.  But the thought of it, the memory in my crevices, I can experience it all over again even taste it, so much so, there’s nothing that can be opened out of a can or brought out of a refrigerator or re-heated that equals it.

That was Thanksgiving in a way that didn’t just last a day or a weekend but continued throughout the season because we all knew what was going to follow: More shopping, the baking of cookies and yes, Christmas and better still the week between Christmas and New Year’s. It was a Wonderland that to this day transforms me to a WANDERLAND, one that you never wanted to wander away from. Even now I wander back into that amazing Wonder, not wanting to leave thinking, knowing nothing can ever compare or replace it.

So you see it’s not just a day after, it’s an everlasting day that was, that is, and thankfully right now, as long as my memory holds out, will always be.          .          .

As much as you JUST

celebrated THANKSGIVING

.         .          .and even though your Stomach might still be full,

I hope your heart is EMPTY enough to

truly continue this Season of

T     H     A     N     K     S
G           E          T          T          I          N          G

.          .          .may it be way better than you have planned

or    i m a g i n e d
(as you WANDER through your WONDER of yesteryears)

JUST A MOMENT: REMEMBERING TO FORGET

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WELL.          .          .
Have you.          .          .
Have you ever walked into room and forgot why you walked in?
Hey, wouldn’t be great if we could forget to remember
what we really need to forget to remember.        .       .
The wrong somebody did us.     .     .
The story somebody told about us.        .        .
The word they used against us.          .          .
Hard to forget all of those THAT’S
but we have a nice saying that salt-in-the-wound-STINGS:
FORGIVE AND FORGET
or how about this one:
“I’ll forgive you, but I won’t forget it.      .     .”
W               E               L               L
Maybe it’s time.     .     .
maybe it’s really time that we do forget to remember
Seriously, right now, right here,
what it is that YOU need to forget to remember.          .          .
Uhhhh, guess what.          .         .
I T
doesn’t take a lifetime
or ages
or conditions
I  T
can happen in, in, in just a moment.           .          .
The question is,
WILL
I  T

JUST CALL ME, IRV

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It’s not all that unusual to get a call on a Sunday afternoon asking whether or not I can do a service, even if it’s the day before Memorial Day.  That is exactly what happened this past Sunday  and they were asking if I could do the Invocation and the Benediction for the Memorial Day services held annually at the historic Lake View Cemetery in Cleveland, Ohio

I’ll be honest with you, my first knee-jerk reaction was this is may not be a good idea, not because it’s too late notice but because Erin, my wife was recovering from a killer kidney stones removal procedure just the day before; but this is where that strange duck of me that waddles and quacks a little bit differently sort of enters.

Maybe it’s an excuse, but I rationalize and say it’s a reason, in fact, one of the biggest reasons why I’m here and if somebody asks me to do something and I’m available to do it, I feel like it’s a divine intervention of sorts; that I have an obligation to fulfill the request.  Yes, egotistical as it sounds and maybe even more glaringly appears. I feel like it’s a divine intervention for me not to do it, for me to accept (or else I would have never been asked in the first place).

I gladly accepted the invitation to fill in for somebody who took sick and couldn’t do the Invocation and the Benediction. His name is already printed in the bulletin

It didn’t matter to me if I stood up in front of others and they thought I might be Irv Aplis.  Besides, the Master of Ceremonies, Tim Garfield, a direct descendant of President Garfield, took care of that:


I didn’t repeat my name as Chuck Behrens, a Spiritual Care Coordinator with Hospice of the Western Reserve. I stood before a crowd honoring the memory of many and the honor of all and gave what I thought to be an Invocation and Benediction worthy of a Memorial Day observation; to be sure, it wouldn’t have been the one that Irv Aplis, Veteran and Past Commander of The American Legion Post #759 would have given but it’s the one that I was invited to give.

Yes, like so many other occasions I wasn’t there to save the day. I was humble enough to be recognizing that I was there to be saved by the day and it was magical.  With the band playing, bagpiper piping, and the address that was worthy of a Memorial Day given and received, I and all the many people on a rainy day were there to remember and more importantly, to prove we haven’t forgotten, the memories of the many and the honor for all.

Yeah, you may be right. It’s a rationalization but the next time I get a text or call, this will be another reason not an excuse. Another reason why I’ll probably say, “Absolutely, I’m available and I’d be glad to help. Tell me how.”

I know. I KNOW, I’m a strange duck, or at least one that waddles and quacks differently.

Now here’s the question and it may be a little more difficult to answer than it seems:

HOW DO YOU ANSWER THAT CALL?

HOW DO YOU RESPOND TO THAT TEXT?

Something nudges me deep from your Within’s to my WITHIN’S:
THE SAME WAY.          .          .

And if you’re still reading this, you are a Caring Catalyst to do so
THE NEXT TIME~~
Pssssssssssssssssssssst:
AND THERE’S ALWAYS A NEXT TIME~~GO AHEAD,
Be an Irv Aplis
the next time he may not be able but
YOU ARE

FREEZE THE FRAME

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We all have those
FREEZE THE FRAME MOMENTS
that make memories even more precious than they are
especially this time of the year.         .        .

This is one of my
FREEZE THE FRAME MOMENTS.           .          .
This picture of my sister and I was taken in front of my grandparents fireplace on a Christmas morning. I was two and my sister was 4. It was before my two other brothers were born. I have no idea what I got for Christmas that morning but I know the people who gave me the gifts loved me and even in death, still do which is
THE BEST GIFT OF ALL.      .     .
What’s your
FREEZE THE FRAME MOMENT?
No matter what they may have been
or even if they are in the making
it allows us to know that our
 M          E          M          O           R          I          E          S
mean
N O T H I N G
unless
L          O          V          E
is attached to them
and then they are everything they are
everything they were
and everything they’re to become
FREEZE THE FRAME
and may your greatest memories
be those yet to be
f r a m e a b l e

 

EMPTY CHAIR’D

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THE EMPTY CHAIR
Will stare you down
Glare back
Blink not
Because it holds the
h a l l o w e d
power of
M    E    M    O    R    I    E    S

ANGUISH:
The lack of Blindness
that illuminates
The Empty Chair
at a Holiday Table

The best thing about an
EMPTY CHAIR
At the Table
Is that it has a Meaning
No other Emptiness
Could ever hold
or Capture

It WHISPERS:
I’m still here
It SHOUTS:
Remember When

The Blessing
of an
EMPTY CHAIR
Is it cradles what can’t be held
No Hurt
No Grief
No Pain
No Loss
No Emptiness
That’s caused by a power
Much stronger than all of those things
Together:
L O V E

There’s nothing that shouts louder
Than a Silent Space
There’s nothing more full
Than an
EMPTY CHAIR
A heart will always Shout
What a mouth can’t Whisper
EMPTY CHAIR
That reminds of scents
That holds little sense
That makes no cents
But always keeps us
To what Was
Tortured to what Is
Foreigners to what
For an Ever
Will always be

And the worst of the worst
The baddest of the bad
The grievous of the grief
isn’t
THE EMPTY CHAIR

It’s the
s m a l l e s t
slow rusting rotting
EMPTY CHAIR
that holds
what never was
reminding us
painfully
of all of the memories
that’ll never be
created
experienced
imagined

Leaving us
not only
Empty Chair’d
But Spilled OUT
Off our Rocker
POURED OUT

The only thing worse than getting
EMPTY CHAIR’D
is being
NO CHAIR’D

Forever leaving blank the phrases:
I REMEMBER THE TIME:
I’LL NEVER FORGET THE TIME:
or better yet,
WHAT ABOUT THE TIME:
.          .          .because the worst memories of all
ARE THOSE NEVER CREATED.          .          .          
EMPTY CHAIR’D

YOUR REMEMBER WHEN’ER

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This video has been making it’s rounds as the Holiday season is in full force unfolding before us.  No matter what we believe or in what various moods/feelings we are treading or at times, seemingly drowning in, Holidays or not, it goes to the heart of our remembering, our once upon a times, that at times feels like hugging a porcupine and yet we squeeze all the more harder to keep those memories close and to actually do all we can to bring them back to vivid, living color so that we can feel all that is good, all that is love, all that once upon a time was.        .        .

Sometimes it’s not so much
WHAT YOU REMEMBER
as
T     H     A     T
you are
R   E   M   E   M   B   E   R   E   D.      .      .
Memories are precious
and the only things more important:
THE MEMORIES YET TO BE CREATED.       .       .
this holiday season
May your greatest memories
be those you’ve yet to create
(but undoubtedly will)
Let your Remember’er
bring you
what
THE NEW
sometimes can never quite promise
(and may your Remember’er do it often)

 

STUFFINGS OF THE SOUL

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There are times when pictures far exceed any captions that could be created

There are times when pictures are not worth a thousand words.          .          .
THEY ARE LIBRARIES
and they flip through the pages of our Souls
so gently and yet so powerfully
that they can never be spoke or heard, only
E X P E R I E N C E D
in inexplicable ways
that burrow through our Tapestries
in a way that can never unbind us

.          .          .those are some of the thoughts and feelings I experienced when my friend, Beth shared these photographs a couple of weeks ago on Facebook along with these words:

Words are inadequate to express the complexity in my heart on this first anniversary of dad’s death. There is warmth and fullness in my chest as I look at these photos which are two of my favorite of us. And there is sadness, heaviness and oddly relief when I realize that I am glad you did not live to see the horror occurring in Israel right now. There is amusement as I hear people fear Friday the 13th while knowing both you and mom were born on Friday the 13ths and married on a Friday the 13th making this day/date special and filled with love for me. It is still surreal to me that you are gone, and I miss you and mom everyday. It is hard to not have my ultimate protectors when the world feels so unkind. Miss you Poptart 😢
We all have bags, bins, drawers, albums and ohhhhh my, our cell phones are filled with videos and photos, aren’t they?  Seriously, which one of any of them need opening?  Just same the name of a loved one.  Say it out loud, right now.  See!  They’re right there, closer than a thought, a cherished memory, a fragrant smell, a gentle touch, a sip a taste of a favorite food or drink.       .        .
RIGHT THERE
NOW
OR ANY TIME
WE CHOOSE
and yes, 
SOMETIMES EVEN WITHOUT INVITATION OR PLAN
RIGHT THERE.      .     .
always near
never far
and just as real
as the first time
we ever experienced it
Beth helped me understand that when she posted these two of many photos a couple of weeks ago and what it did for her then and now, invites the same thing for us now, too:
RE-MEMBER
go ahead. . .put back the pieces of those lives who are still very much apart of us; rearrange them, hold them dear, bring them to your lips, no one will object or think it strange, because before you ever do any of those one things you’ll already intimately know they have magnificently been done deeply done in you and.     .    .and will forever continue.

It’s great, isn’t it, when words and pictures
B E C O M E
never to be anything else
more or less than
O U R S.      .      .
STUFFINGS  OF  THE  SOUL

MET IN THE STAIRWELL

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I know it’s an occupational hazard, getting things others think you might like, enjoy, use because I’m a minister and a chaplain.  I’ve received this video dozens of times since it was released 11 years ago, and having been ordained now for a little over 43 years and a hospice chaplain for 29 years, I get asked this one question more than any other: “WHERE WAS GOD AT________________, you can fill in the blank, yourself; at 9/11, when a loved one was dying or going through a most horrendous time, when prayers don’t seem to be answered or can’t even be prayed, WHEN BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE.        .        .          ?

And YES, it’s a question we often ask during a tragedy, a sickness, an unanswered prayer, an unmet expectation but rarely during a celebration, an exceeded expectation, a painless, completely beautiful day.

As we remember, and we do, this 22nd anniversary of 9/11, WHERE WERE YOU AT ON that day.          .          .where are you NOW?  The GREAT WHOEVER doesn’t show up in Places; the SHOWING UP comes with People; in them and from
them.          .          .does the SHOWING UP come with you in the tragic/triumphant and all the seemingly inconsequential unnoticed times in between.          .         .          ?

And now, as we
R      E      M      E      M      B      E      R
(Who we are and Who we aren’t)
may I offer you one more special video from one of my favorite poets, Billy Collins

SOMETIMES
THE GREATEST GRIEF
IS MISSING 
WHAT WAS NEVER HAD
BUT ALWAYS WANTED.          .          .

S U M M E R I N G

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I am not the only one who
THINKS
or most certainly
F          E          E          L          S
I    T.          .          .

But I keep looking for the rest of Summer
as soon as the last sparkler loses its sparkle
on the 4th of July
which got me to thinking about things
a little beyond Summer
and this one Summer of 2023
being the last one any of us will
ever live.        .       .
h      e      n      c      e:

100 Summers                                               

100 Summers from now
I’ll be gone
and so will everyone
I know and love
(and you too, dear reader)
My name won’t be
remembered or spoken
The Okay-ness
of this is that after
100 Summers gone
is there’ll be as many
Falls, Winters and Springs
taking their places as
100 Seasons before
without much explanation
(recently written for a 15 poems in 10 day challenge for local gems)

Uhhhhhhhhh
days gone by
are never really days
g  o  n  e.        .        .        .

SNOW MAN LOVE

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Sometimes a song is much more than notes
and lyrics are much more than words.          .         .

Don’t cry snowman, not in front of me Who will catch your tears if you can’t catch me, darlin’? If you can’t catch me, darlin’? Don’t cry, snowman, don’t leave me this way A puddle of water can’t hold me close, baby Can’t hold me close, baby

I want you to know that I’m never leaving Cause I’m Mrs. Snow, ’till death we’ll be freezing Yeah, you are my home, my home for all seasons So come on let’s go Let’s go below zero and hide from the sun I’ll love you forever where we’ll have some fun Yes, let’s hit the North Pole and live happily Please don’t cry no tears now, it’s Christmas baby

My snowman and me My snowman and me Baby

Don’t cry, snowman, don’t you fear the sun Who’ll carry me without legs to run, honey? Without legs to run, honey? Don’t cry, snowman, don’t you shed a tear Who’ll hear my secrets if you don’t have ears, baby? If you don’t have ears, baby?

I want you to know that I’m never leaving ‘Cause I’m Mrs. Snow, ’till death we’ll be freezing Yeah, you are my home, my home for all seasons So come on let’s go Let’s go below zero and hide from the sun I’ll love you forever where we’ll have some fun Yes, let’s hit the North Pole and live happily Please don’t cry no tears now, it’s Christmas baby

My snowman and me My snowman and me Baby

Notes: I don’t own anything. All credits goes to Sia and the company Cineplex which created this animation. Please support Sia. 🙂 Don’t forget to check them: http://www.cineplex.com/ http://www.youtube.com/siavevo/


Sometimes a song is much more than notes
and lyrics are much more than words.          .         .

ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU EXPERIENCE THEM

Professional Speaker, Author, Assurance Man