Author: alwaysbridging

Valentine Babies

Some of my very favorite people were born in February. You know who you are. One of them recently turned 11. You know who you are.

I noticed that when I wrote about going to the movies with Mom recently, the number of responses was more than those for any other post. I was especially curious when a friend told me not to feel guilty about my frustrations when with my mother and someone else assured me it was okay to feel irritated.

Then yesterday when I relayed a loving story about Rob, the feedback was ample too.

Lest you think Mom only garners my ire and Rob my affection, let me set the record straight. I am close and generally open with both of them, thus our shared bouquet of energy is rich and varied.

Plus, it deserves saying, I think it is so human to feel mad sometimes. I can stuff my anger or explore it. I believe, at my healthiest, I vibrate around a balanced axis of “up and down” feelings. And if I try to ignore the “bad” ones, I tend to experience the “good” ones less.

Feelings are so important to me that I taped a wheel of words that describe emotions into my journal. Having it handy helps me review moments that stand-out as significant.

Almost five years ago my husband Rob had major surgery to address advanced cancer. Now, thank God, his oncologist is starting to whisper “cure.”

Yesterday, we visited a friend who had the same procedure two weeks ago. I have revisited the trauma and grief of Rob’s early recovery this week as we prepared food to take along. Late one night I reviewed five years worth of photos, searching for cartoons to send in morning texts to his wife, the ones that have been encouraging life blood for me over the years. And I wept.

As we headed home after the visit, we met the Bird King himself and marveled.

Leaning there, I was flooded with warmth and appreciation for this man, my man, who suffered so and now can be light at the end of a long tunnel for someone else.

We had a wonderful substitute choir director on Sunday. She told us if we do it musically, we can never go wrong. How’s that for good advice for life?

Yesterday my mother and I went to the movies. Since she’s almost 96, we can count on a few age-related snags on our outings. There were several. Here’s one suitable for public consumption: Someone parked less than a foot from the passenger side of my car so, after the show, Mom had to manage getting into the back seat behind me. Once we were all strapped in and ready for take-off, she exclaimed, “Well, this is different. Different but necessary.”

The most unusual part for me was my quiet mind. I am irritated when inconvenienced, often with her. Could it be that the petition for quiet minds during the benediction on Ash Wednesday, the ask I have been repeating since then, is taking hold?