On the Road to Wellsville

Saturday morning, August 8, 2009, we headed out at 10am, pretty close to our preferred 6am start time. Reminds me of the time I visited my grandfather in Arizona to take him on a road trip. My grandmother Bess had died a few months earlier, and as the oldest grandchild I decided I wanted to get my grandfather, Buster, to show me the places he lived as a child, and later as a husband and father.

I flew into Phoenix, arriving at his house at about 2am. He was waiting up for me with a freshly baked blueberry pie. As we ate it, he decided we would leave on our odyssey at 8am the next morning.

But Grandpa, I said, it's very late and I'd rather sleep in a bit.

At 8am the next morning, the door to my room opened and he said in his loudest voice, Some people sure do sleep late!

I rolled over, groaned, and told him I'd be up in a minute. We had breakfast - bacon, eggs, Tang, and Sanka - and then loaded the car. Before we could start out, we had to go buy some feed to put out for Grandpa's quail. We visited for awhile with the nice young clerk at the feed store, made our purchase and drove home. Then we had to discuss where to put the seed blocks. Quail are ground feeders, as you know, but the pigeons that walk around on his roof are a real nuisance and he likes to throw pebbles at them. Grandma and Grandpa's yard is gravel, with cactus and palm trees, just like all his neighbors in Sun City.

After I watched Grandpa chase off several pigeons, he decided we should notify the Sheriff's Posse (volunteers that police the neighborhood) that he would be absent for a week. We drove over to the Posse post, but discovered Grandpa had left the postcard at home. We drove home, searched the dining room to find the postcard, and returned to the post. They weren't open until 10am, however, so we debated whether to slide it under the door or come back later.

I think we finally got underway at about 11am that day. But that's another story.

My name is Toni Marie and I am married to a Methodist pastor. Tom was retired from parish ministry when I met him - working as a hospital chaplain and pastoral counselor. I am a lifelong Episcopalian and we have a mixed marriage. He really likes attending the Episcopal Church and I joke that he is an Episcopal wannabe. His response is that the Methodists got it right.

After we had been together for a few years, Tom was called to be the part-time pastor at a local Methodist church close to where we live in Salt Lake City. His new congregation was wonderful - they didn't mind that I divided attendance between my own church and his. Not too hard to be a clergy spouse, I thought. After 4 short and wonderful years of that, however, earlier this summer Tom was asked to consider appointment to a start-up church in Colorado. What a wonderful opportunity! He was so energized even thinking about it. So the adventure begins. On Saturday we drove him to his new post, and I am now back in Salt Lake City for awhile until I can get myself organized to move to be with him. Fortunately, it's only a 6 hour drive. Pray for me.

The Accidental Clergy Spouse