Author: alwaysbridging

I can loosen my center where I ache, and invite Fire in.

I can move my pelvis slightly from side to side,

     even if the movement is only in my mind.

I can curl into the softest blanket I can find,

or prop myself up with a pillow, to watch the light of dawn come forth.

Shadow—Reveal—Shadow—Reveal

I can notice the heat of Life radiating from within,

imagining washing my beloved’s feet in public and everyone else’s too

even if only in my mind.    

Me (exclaiming loudly with alarm immediately after exiting Thursday Morning Prayer, having attended with Grandkitty Porky for his first time) – Oh, No!

Rob (responding from the other room, after sighing deeply) – Are you ok?

Me (gleefully) – April Fool!    

Yes indeed, I love these people, myself included. So much so, I have a lump of concrete in my lower right back. I ache. I know I need to sob, yet I resist. Sadly, I make myself hurt with my concern.

The youngest one is living fully and in transition as she moves into the new home she owns. The oldest one won’t stop aging—Blast! She keeps on encouraging me to live fully. Instead, silly me, I brace myself. I am not unlike flat sandwich bologna squeezed between the most luscious breads of all time.    

I wonder, “How could we possibly honor Mom after she dies?” Then a video clip surfaces of our rehearsal on the morning of my father’s memorial.

Assuming she must die someday, we’ll gather in flesh and virtually. After all the years of celebrating life together and with weeks of “sister calls” girding us, we will love each other in death too.

Now though, as pandemic fog clears, I’ve taken her to the dentist. She is more available today, happy to be amongst others and telling me wild stories about what is happening in her daydreams.  

Chef Carolina is preparing dinner for us tonight to honor her Dad’s recent birthday. When we get home from the beach we will walk in to a personalized gourmet feast. And thanks to our wonderful neighbors, I have something worthy to contribute: homemade sourdough bread that arrived on our cabin threshold early this morning.