Turning off VACANCY signs

Some of you have already heard some exciting news

that is happening in my life. To the remainder of my

friends, I am thrilled to share with you that

Billy Ray Stanley, an evangelist from Texas, has

been courting me and has proposed

and I have accepted. 

We will wed in a private ceremony

with our families on July 27, 2013.

Glynnda McGarvey

Facebook, April 27th, 2013

A son's mother moved to Moberly 25 years ago, following his father who was elected to pastor a small mid-Missouri church.

They established bank accounts and roots. They became friends with combine drivers and made grape jelly from the vines in the backyard. The church grew and shrank and the house got new siding. Mother-in-laws moved in and sons moved out. Daughters graduated, grand-babies appeared, the lawn was mowed and the basement flooded and holidays passed with gusto and sweet potato casserole.

Over and over and over it went until life changed directions and dreams and plans melted away and a VACANCY sign appeared over hearts.

Then the son said to his mom late one night, "Here. Let's get you a Facebook account. You can keep up with your friends."

And so did the kids of a preacher-man cowboy, whose VACANCY sign had been flickering in the darkness almost as long as hers.

And their friend requests poured in and he found her, hidden among Farmville updates and eCards.

"Have a Blessed Sunday!" that first message read, a tentative reach from deep in the heart out to a Texas Girl transplanted in Midwestern cornfields.

"WHAT DOES HE MEAN, "HAVE A BLESSED SUNDAY?!?" 

She roared the question at the son who got her on Facebook to begin with.  She was suspicious of the Cowboy's intentions.

"Ride the wave," the son responded, innocuously. "Sometimes it just means hello."

It took her seven days to respond... with a blatantly casual,  "Thank you."

Then a January message lead to a March phone call and cell phones had to be plugged in because batteries couldn't keep up with stories that led late into nights of memories; two Southerners reacquainting themselves with lives lived far apart.

Kids read emails and text messages and shook their heads at the change of minds as winter struggled to stay around in the warmth of love blooming.

The Cowboy Preacher drove north into the promise of a new beginning with an old family friend. There were meetings of minds. His. Hers. Her kids. A declaration around a table bursting with chicken grilled and potatoes smashed.

And 25 years later, a Texas girl goes back home.

To horses on the Gulf Coast.
To new adventures.
To love.

GLYNNDA: Annual Piano Recital

I had my annual piano recital on December 9th with a full house and 23 of my 30 students participating.  Musical selections are always a mix ranging from popular to classical to Christmas music to celebrate the season because I believe the students perform best when they are performing the music they love.  

Over the years the students have organized a variety of presentations to showcase their musicianship.  This year was no different.  One of my fourth graders accompanied her mother as she sang, and a second grade student accompanied herself as she presented two vocal solos.  Though the afternoon is fraught with stress and nervousness, it is still a wonderful musical memory maker for everyone involved.  

My thanks to all the parents, grandparents and care-givers who make it possible for the children to participate and to all the adults who choose to put yourself on the line for a thee to five minute performance!  I love sharing my love for the piano with you all!

Family Traditions: The Nutcracker Suite

It's Christmas and that means...

Da Da Da DAaa... DaDaDa... DaDaDa... DaDaDa... DaDa DaDa Ddadada...

Or, The Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy from The Nutcracker!

See?  Now you're humming it, right?  You get the Da Da Da's? 

OK, maybe not. 

At any rate, that was Christmas a few weeks ago from Grammie to all of the kids, grand or otherwise.  And they did ah-mah-zing.  Cooper sat through the entire two-hour performance.  Entranced.  Heidi was wooting like she was at an Aerosmith concert at every break.  Ballet.  Stage Diving Divas.  It works.

This was the Moscow Ballet's interpretation of the classic and they had a few... interpretations.  Like the moon-walking mouse that showed up in Act II.  Or the cannon that shot confetti.  Perhaps that's what kept Cooper in his seat for so long.

Thanks to Mom for a wonderful night out at Jesse Auditorium!

SCOTT: Some Sibling Target Practice

We've quit giving each other stuff we don't need or want for presents.  The family has, instead, gone with a variety of experiential gifts (i.e. hot-air balloon rides, trips to STL, etc.) for Christmas, Parent's Days, Birthdays, Ground Chuck Day, etc.  Unfortunately, with our schedules, making these events actually occur is nigh unto impossible.  So, in reality we all get off cheap... or cheated.

"Dad, Jaime & I are going to take you to (Fill In the Blank Museum)." 

That one never happened.

"Mom, here's a gift certificate for a Massage!"

The location closed before she got around to it.

My birthday gift to Jaime this year was a morning out at the range and lunch... what better way to bond than through the haze of gun smoke & BBQ?  And since, it was something I really wanted to do, it was bound to happen!

We borrowed a friend's Buckmark .22 (thanks, Chase!), which, when coupled with a few other larger caliber items, lent itself to a whole barrel of fun.  It's a sweet, well-balanced, smooth-shootin' machine.  It also turned out to be Jaime's fave.  Though she's shot long guns quite a bit, this was Jaime's first turn at a handgun and she gave Annie Oakley a run for her money.

Below is a vid of Jaime going cyclic with a 9mm... (OK, she's not really... that's the type of irony usually reserved for our blog over here).

Anyway, it was birthday good times in the country!

A Memorial

When Dad passed away, there was an outpouring of generosity in his memory.  A committee was formed to find an appropriate use for those funds and the decision was made to remodel APC's outdoor signage.  The original sign was, well, the original... from when the church was built over 30 years ago.  It was one the things on Dad's to-do list that got started, but just never got crossed off.

On Sunday, September 30th, APC held a memorial service for Pastor McGarvey and unveiled the new sign.  It was a very touching service, with memories and laughter and a few tears.  The video that was played is below and more pictures are here.  On the sign there is a plaque that faces the Memorial Garden with a dedication in his memory.  It was great to have so many of the St. Louis clan in attendance for the service and dinner afterward.

Last week the family attended the UPCI General Conference in St. Louis for the Memorial Service on Friday evening.  During his sermon on Friday afternoon, Pastor Aaron Soto gave honor to Dad as his mentor.

Just this week, I was talking with an alum of the College where I work and she asked about our family.  Dad had volunteered in a local retirement center where she worked for many years and she reminisced about how friendly and loving he was, both to the residents and the staff.

This hasn't been an easy year.  I suppose none of them are from "that day" forward.  It was nice to take some time and remember him and who he was and all the lives he touched... all the time.

Pastoral Tribute from The Carpenter's Studio on Vimeo.

Missing You Together

So, after a massive storm this morning, we met at "Papa's Special Place" as Heidi calls it.  The kiddos dropped off pictures and flowers and Heidi read a story she'd written.  The new stone has been installed and grass is slowly healing the scar of earth.  It's a beautiful place, under a tree, on a hill side.  We all stop by more often than we talk about.  It's his place and ours.  Especially this week.

More pictures are over here.

We Miss You...

Vernon McGarvey

October 15, 1946 - September 25, 2011

There really aren't letters in any alphabet to form words that flow into sentences substantial enough to describe the utter feeling of loss that we, all of us, feel today.

There are small ways... and there are gigantic, canyon-deep, ocean-wide, gut-wrenching ways of missing you.

Some are unique to the individual, a memory that just one of us has of you; perhaps a shared laugh or a quiet nod of recognition, that answered call or jotted note.

And then there are the communal experiences that find us standing in a circle, hand-in-hand, staring together into a deep, open space of missing you.

Twelve months.  Three Hundred & Sixty-Five Days.  Not enough distance to stop up the emotion that sits just below the surface; threatening, waiting, ready to spill over, down the street.

Flooding our day. 

Washing us into missing you.

Facades, daily routines, trash cans emptied, bills paid, life moving inexorably around us. Past us.

Through us.

Rushing us away from today, from yesterday to last week, those months ago turning into...

A year ago.

A year gone.

A year of missing you.

____________________________________

Sunday, September 30th, at 10AM, there will be a 

tribute service & memorial dedication to Vernon McGarvey

at Apostolic Pentecostal Church, 2197 Six Mile Lane in Moberly.