As I’ve mentioned here before, one of the richest memories of my life is how I used to get up at 5:30 in the morning with my dad. It was our time. We’d eat GrapeNuts and tell each other about the miracle(s) we’d seen the day before. I still try to like GrapeNuts and I still try to look for miracles every day.
Finding the miracles has been harder for me lately. I might notice (my word for 2015) lovely people, places, or things, but I’ve allowed circumstances, over which I feel powerless, to cloud my ability to recognize them as miracles. That’s gotta change.
Here’s how I’m going to change it. Yes/And. I completely accept the reality that YES there are many things going on the world, over which I have no control. AND while I continue to attend to what I can, I’m going to focus on the light, the good, the possible, along with the people doing the light, good, and possible.
YES, the divisions, gloom, fear, and darkness will still be around. My focus, however, will not be as glued to it, as it has been lately. I’m going to focus on the power of miracles. When I find myself tempted to dwell in the negative longer than is necessary, I’m going to seek out AND people, places, and things. AND people, places and things are the miracles Daddy and I used to share with each other daily. I’ll share some of them with you here.
Be forewarned, this one is a little long-winded.
I believe most of us wear masks. No matter how honest and authentic we are, there are times when we need to hide, guard, or give others a break from our TRUE selves. I don’t mean we’re all walking around being dishonest. It’s just human to protect.
This journey with Mom is one of unmasking. Those of you who read this and know Mom, know her to be one.feisty.woman. She’s always spoken her mind, seldom holding back her advisory opinion. She’s a gem. And she doesn’t suffer fools.
I’ve often heard that we humans revert to our True Self, as we approach The End of our life. And I have to admit, I’ve been more than a little concerned about being on the End of Life Journey with Mom.
I was afraid I’d be accompanying the woman who:
- as a schoolgirl, walked through the blitzkrieg to school in London;
- married a US.citizen.who.joined.the.Canadian.RAF.because.he.was.”too short”.for.US forces;
- traveled to the US as an English war bride, on a ship filled with English war brides – to un-welcoming folk;
- and whose husband died way too young.
Like me, Mom had many masks. And ya know what? Her’s are all gone now. I’m the recipient of the gift of meeting her again, for the first time. The nurses, caregivers, and volunteers at the Hospice House where Mom lives often tell me how she kisses their hands, when they reach out to her. And then she cups their faces in her hands, just like she does mine. It’s the vulnerable and loving Edna I get to accompany.
It’s a very thin, rich, and sacred space. I am grateFULL to be a witness.
Yes, most of us wear masks. And we get to let go of them, whenever we choose.
That’s all I got. Join in, as you wish.