Monday, March 25, 2019


What a grueling weekend. So much travel compressed in what felt like, a short amount of time. One of Dearest One and my favourite things to do together is go on a road trip so that part was lovely. We talked deep things. We belly laughed. There were tears. Sad about the death that happened. Sad about my mother in law and her health. Inside her nearly 90 year old body she is that little girl over there jumping rope.

This morning I will go sit with her. She was moved unexpectedly to hospice over the weekend. I suspect that the hospital needed her bed just as she desperately needed a bed after spending 3 nights in ER. She is waiting to hear about the funeral of her son in law and so we will chat and I will ask her for memories to be written down on special cards I brought home from the funeral for that purpose. In speaking with my sister in law she is very much looking forward to reading these memories of her husband.

My sister in law and I held hands across the lunch table with our arms outstretched towards one another for a good while. It was the closest we were going to get to a hug due to space limitations and the situation. We then had a conversation while mostly oblivious to people around us. We were interrupted several times and I watched her face as people squeezed in between chairs to get to her in order to offer condolences. I watched as she dealt with the onslaught of well meaning and good hearted people. It looked exhausting.

We are blessed with oodles of nieces and nephews and it worked out that we sat among some of them at the post service meal. Mostly we encourage them in their parenting. That they are likely doing better than they give themselves credit for. I often share the story of a friend telling me, when I was the parent of young children, that there is no A given in parenting, only E for effort. At the time I desperately wanted an A and felt I was getting an F. So many parents do.

This generation is more relaxed than the one Dearest One grew up in. He was raised in an ultra conservative religion where you can be in a congregation numbering in the hundreds and never hear a peep out of an infant or a child. We talked with a niece and her husband yesterday about the kind of parenting that matters so much more than if your two year old can sit quietly in church. We listened to their struggles. We did our best to make inner space to hear what was on their heart. I'd like to think we connected.

And so here it is Monday morning. A full week ahead. My heart hurting for my sick friend who was in such pain and despair last night that, had it not been pitch black and her home over 2 hours away, I would've gotten in my car to go to her. We were both crying miles apart. I was scared she wouldn't be here this morning.

This week has some heavy stuff in it. I hope for the grace to walk lightly.

1 comment:

Chuck Sigars said...

There is no grace like compassion, I think; it covers both parties, and overwhelms me sometimes. I ache for you at this time, looking forward to this week, but I can feel your strength in your words. All shall be well.