Author: alwaysbridging

Garnering Peace

This Monday morning I am settling. Thank God the days are lengthening and I have made peace with the notion of feast days. Many of my loved ones were born in the springtime; I am not giving up celebrating them just because their birthdays don’t fall on Sundays. As I understand it, those six Sundays are technically feast days and aren’t counted in the 40 days of fasting. As if I fast. Ha.

I saved this photo of our Valentine flowers for a day like today when I am most interested in emptying myself and listening. No witty story. Simply quiet, quiet after the festival. Waiting here in my prayer chair wrapped in my rainbow blanket and shawl from Palestine. Serene.

“What if God doesn’t want to use you? What if sometimes God wants to be with you?” Cole Arthur Riley

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?