Author: alwaysbridging

Deathday

Today is my father’s deathday—John R. Clarke, 1920 – 2015. We will all have one. No one gets out of this alive.

I have seen several photos of my Dad already this morning and hope others will post pictures of him. This is the one from that day that keeps coming back to me. He breathed his last 14 minutes into the day. What a vivid memory that is. So this photo records a liminal time for me. I remember being held by these beautiful women and holding them, mutually.

I didn’t know the term “bridging” yet but, my God, was I standing on one.

Chosen Family

I met Marilyn at church because she lives here for long stretches and worships with us while in Seattle. Now she’s home in Australia. That’s Marilyn in the photo with her kids AND MY KIDS who are visiting down under. How’s that for long, strong bridges across air waves and oceans?

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.