Happy 97th Birthday Dear Friend

I can not end today without writing a tribute to my dear friend Hermie.

We met Hermie as one of our neighbors on Elliott Street in the late 70’s. We were all much younger then. She brought over some homemade bread when my youngest sister was born in 1978. Shortly after that, Hermie experienced the tragic and sudden loss of her husband, Gilbert.

It was during that season of sorrow Hermie began to join our Sunday dinner table? It began when we were all younger, and it continues today, some forty+ years later. We have shared many meals, dried dishes together, laughed, wept, and hugged more than anyone could count, drank many glasses of wine, and shared countless hours of conversation. We have gone from neighbors to friends to family.

Hermie, you are an inspiring woman of faith! You have held deep joy and more than your share of sorrow! You have cared for and blessed your children in their living life to the fullest and have returned each of them to the hands of a loving God.

And still, you find beauty in each day! You cherish moments of conversation, time spent together, a good meal with vegetables, worship with your EACRC community, and time with your siblings, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

 

 

 

 

You are deeply loved by so many and always a part of the Borgdorff bunch! The kids love Grandma B and aren’t quite sure where you came from because you have always been present in their lives…and for that, we are so delighted! We all love you, Hermie! Happy 97th! ❤️ trish

The mystery of God

Thursday was one of those days—a deep-breathing kind of day. It was not because life was overwhelming but because every transition I made in the day caused me to marvel at the mystery of God at work.

Heather and I started with breakfast with a dear friend who lost his wife 15 months ago. We met to listen to his reflections on Heather’s question: How can we best support someone who has just lost someone close? He came with such honest answers and experiences. It was a breakfast of profound impact, listening to how God provides amid grief and heartache and provides comfort and release.

Then Heather and I met with a dear woman with ALS. We were in a warm room on a sunny day since her medication caused her to be cold. We were privileged to listen to her story, to engage in her struggles, to hold her concerns, and to invite her to trust us with the vulnerable spaces of her heart. The disease is cruel and unforgiving. This woman has so much courage. As we walked away, my heart felt stuck wondering why, at 54, my body has had issues that can all be addressed, and a dear 50-year-old in front of me has lost the use of arms and legs and will have continual decline. The mystery of God felt so all-consuming.

Then we met with a rugged, compassionate 88-year-old tender-hearted fellow who enjoys life, but as he was sharing with us, he became overtaken with emotion. The small cross on his wall, the cross he sees every day, reminds him of his wife, who died almost six years ago. The simplicity, the richness, and the meaning of this cross remind him every day of amazing grace. We talked about living in a broken world and the powerful anticipation of eternity in heaven. Oh, the mystery of God.

It was a good day!

Playing in the dirt

After a busy week, I have some catching up to do with my blog writing. Each night, I started a blog but didn’t manage to finish any. Juggling multiple tasks, I kept putting the blog aside. Now, I’m determined to find my rhythm and complete the blogs I had begun.

Memorial Day weekend was a time for preparing for summer – we cleaned up, raked, uprooted, and planted, all within 48 hours. We tackled weeds, spread mulch, and even moved rocks that had surfaced during the winter frost. I’m amazed by the feeling of running my hands through the dirt and pulling up the long, tangled web of roots. It’s truly satisfying to witness the transformation in our surroundings.

Memorial Day weekend was a different rhythm for me. My nails were black, and my skin was stained from the dirt I had dug in for the afternoon. I could feel the worms that slithered through my fingers and my back could feel the twisting movement of tossing the mulch. At the end of the day, it felt good to know I had moved and worked differently.

My Mom is amazing in how she knows how to be one with the earth and bring about beauty. This picture is a glimpse of one of those spaces. I am grateful to have spent some hours in the dirt!

 

 

Do you have unclaimed property?

I received a check in the mail today.

It looked official, and I wondered who was sending me money.

Last week, I went on the unclaimed property website and found that I had something to claim. Lo and behold, today, I got a check!

I want to share it with you as I think many people have a check hanging out there and are unaware of this website. I did some research, and you can google unclaimed property for your state, and the same website will surface. Remember to check all the states you have lived in.

I hope you get mail soon, too! If you’re not in Michigan, Google unclaimed property for your state.❤️trish

unclaimedproperty.michigan.gov

Safe spaces and faces

May be an image of text that says 'Shame dies when stories are told in safe places. S. Ann AnVoskamp Voskamp'I believe this to be true with every fiber of my being. Shame is powerful and is hard to shake free of. But somehow, I have experienced and witnessed that in safe spaces, shame will dissipate before our eyes. But shame can creep back and return. Safe places must be found and nurtured in our lives. I wonder if you know your safe spaces? Can you name your safe people? Can you see their faces or identify how you feel with them? In today’s world, I believe everyone of all gender orientations should have some time to name and claim safe spaces and faces. This is a critical concept for physical, mental, and emotional safety. It is imperative to live free from overwhelming shame!

I hope you will take time to inventory your safe places and faces today. If you don’t have them, take time to do some work to find them. If you do have them, take some time to express gratitude for the ways you can shed your shame in the presence of these safe people and places. ❤️ trish

 

Are you an obit reader?

I wonder if you are an obituary reader. I know many people who are. I often read the obituaries of our clients and wish I could have read the obituary when I met them. Obituaries tell such a story.

I wonder what you would want your obituary to say? What stories would you want to share with those who peruse the online edition and learn a little about you?

As a social worker, writing your obituary a few different times throughout your life is a good exercise. I don’t suggest writing this in a grief-stricken space, but more an invitation to share how you brought goodness, hope, or joy to our broken world. Consider how you would creatively put words to the people you love and the places you hold close to your heart.

My Dad’s obituary has hung on my fridge for six years. I rarely read the whole thing; it is long, but I love reading sections. My sister has modeled to me how to write an honest obituary that includes things like,” He hated camping!”

Peter Borgdorff Obituary

My Dad died six years ago today. In honor of his life, consider your life and how your living. Think about how you want to tell others about it, both when your living and after you have died. Live with intention my friends. Go and make a difference and let your legacy be celebrated by many! ❤️trish

flying high…staying grounded

I saw this quote and had to smile. These pictures remind me of the joy of flying high. These kids model risk-taking, expressing happiness and freedom in movement. There is something so delightful in watching my nieces and nephews play at a level that I can only dream of. I wonder how they learned to be so flexible. I wonder how they learned to trust that they would flip back onto their feet if they flipped their body over. 🙂

So, the directive is to fly high and stay grounded. I was a kid who lived much more comfortably with my feet on the ground. Yet I have never lost the wonder for those who fly high. There is something in the thrill, the surprise, the skill, and the amazement when they take off, but also when they land.

I am grateful that even though I was never comfortable doing the flips and jumps like my nieces and nephews, my parents encouraged us to have our feet on the ground and live as free spirits who follow our dreams and passions. To live this way is a thrilling adventure.

I wonder how your life adventure is unfolding. What stories do you have about flying high and staying grounded? After all, sharing stories and inviting others to live life fully is a thrilling adventure! ❤️trish

Act Two (Acts Two)

Rarely do I want to post something for you to listen to, but tonight, I can’t get away from the idea. Our Worship was so good today, and the sermon felt like such an honest call to God’s people.

If you need a good listen, I invite you to click on the link and listen in (Starting at 19:00). I hope it speaks to your heart as well! ❤️ trish

 

Seed planting and waiting for fruit bearing…

Today, I enjoyed the day with my niece and her fiance. It was a combined housewarming and engagement party. Olivia is creative in her decor, and so much of her style is about creating and speaking to her heart in beautiful ways.

Olivia works remotely from home and has this curtain in her window…

The day you plant the seed…is not the day you eat the fruit.

I find this to be such a hopeful and encouraging phrase. It reminds me never to stop planting and never to stop anticipating the harvest of seeds planted. It is about being faithful in the work and patient in the waiting. As I grow older, I believe those may be the two areas in which I have learned the most valuable lessons: faithful in the work and patience in the waiting!

I wonder where you have planted seeds and celebrated the fruits. It is my hope you never stop planting! Fresh fruits make the world a better place! ❤️ trish

 

Cleared and released

I did not anticipate hearing the doctor tell me that I did not need to schedule a follow-up appointment would make me feel so good.

I had my first double gastroc release surgery for my heel pain on January 27, 2023, which proved unsuccessful. This had me in double boots for 12 weeks. I had my first knee replacement due to complications from being in boots in late May 2023 and my second knee replacement in early October 20203 due to a floating bone spur. December 20, 2023, I had another Achilles repair where they severed the tendon, shaved the bone spur, and anchored the tendon back into the heel. I did the other heel, the same procedure as in December, in February 2024, and have finally been cleared and released.

I went to the car and sat for a few minutes, reflecting on my community’s tremendous support, both prayer and meals. I could not have made it through without my village.

It was a long year, but I experienced kindness, goodness, and abundant blessings during struggle and hardship. Have you ever been given a season of hardship that, looking back, you can call an unexpected season of goodness?

It will be good to get my muscles strong again! ❤️ trish