Until the Sea Parts Again

At the end of August, 2008 the collection of photographs from my parents life together were shabby.  With my digital camera, I tried to capture as many as possible.  It felt overwhelming but soothing in some fashion. I had no idea when the capturing of photos would conclude.  Yet, when the closing moments came in the early hours of morning, I felt like the photograph sea had parted, bringing my inner core to the surface.

Through out my life I have had similar situations, where I experienced oceans of sadness, or heartache, or changes to life or lifestyle.  The above picture was taken in a section of Philadelphia in a community that was to be swallowed by the construction of I-95.  The steps to our porch were of wood, but we had a little patch of green in front of the house, enclosed by a wrought iron gate.  The heat was provided by a coal stove in the basement, and the coal was in a large pile near the stove.  We had one bathroom with two adults and five children to share in its' use.  We had three bedrooms, and  slept in double beds.  In this home, I felt secure and safe.  In this community I was slowly finding myself, until we had to move to another neighborhood.... a place with better opportunities for all.  I was not old enough to ask my classmates for their addresses to keep in touch.  Their names are just names in my head.  However, the change prepared me for all the changes that would happen in my future.

Now, at 62 the changes still come, and I wait for the sea to part again (giving me a safe landing somewhere along the shore of life).  My companion through everything has been by faith in God.  Sometimes my actions were not very Christian, leaving me with bewilderment and anxiety.  Many more times my actions allowed me to walk journeys within another person's sorrow (as I was a Hospice RN), or within a person's joy (as a friend or sister/daughter/aunt), or with another person's understanding and comprehension (as I taught them as their primary RN).  

My parents empowered me by being excellent role models, even though we differed in opinion at times. They had so many road blocks as they journeyed through life.  The sea would part as they rejoiced in my brother's graduation from medical school, with my sister's four sons, with my older brother's two daughters, with my older sister's second marriage and graduation from college, and with my becoming a nurse, and finally happily married.   What happened in between were the waves of laundry, cooking, working, cleaning, home improvements, planning how to stretch the money to cover the budget, and so much more.  The love they shared was the life raft that kept them afloat despite each challenge.  Their love was genuine, and visible to all of us just as their commitment to God and the Catholic faith.  That was their legacy to us.  It was that life raft that they shared with us that still has room to carry me safely until the sea parts again.

Shop Early

In six months it will be Christmas, with everyone too exhausted to acknowledge or enjoy the Holy Day (holiday).So when someone says shop early, it is wise to try.  Unfortunately, a familiar question is presented that can really weigh down the person asking it:  "What do you want?".  That question has taken joy away from the very idea of what a gift should be, specifically, the gift is simply someone thinks wonderfully of you and wants to share with you that thought. 

A dear friend expressed that he taught his children that the gift wasn't what was inside the wrappings but was the package itself.  He encouraged his children not to open the gift until a day when they were experiencing difficult times, and to open the gift at that time.  Well, I used that advise one year, and I must say it became a life changing event.  I had no idea when I would be in need of opening the gift, or when I needed to do so.  However, the day arrived.  Nothing was right in my world.  As I felt the weight pulling me downward, my eyes gazed upon the "gift" waiting for me.  As I opened it, the events causing my heavy heart began to leave. Once open, the gift allowed me to remember the person's kindness and caring.  Sadness was gone, the weight that pulled me down was no longer there.  I had learned what the wrappings concealed the true meaning behind what was inside, and that what was inside really didn't matter until the moment that I needed it.

So, it is six months to Christmas.  Begin you shopping now by finding several envelopes, and placing the name of each person you want to give a gift to this Christmas on the outside of the envelope.  Following that task, pick up a pen and some paper of miscellaneous size and color.  Now, think of any of the people whose names have been written on the various envelopes.  Has that person gone out of their way to show you some kindness?  Has that person made your life special in any way?  Has that person helped you and made your day brighter in some fashion?  Well, write it down.  Tell that person how they made a difference in your life. It doesn't take much time, and shouldn't be lengthy.  Now, place that paper into that person's envelope. Each time you think of some kindness, some surprise gesture, something that surprised you and made you happy, write it down and place it into that person's envelope.   By the time December 15th comes around, you will be amazed about the fullness of each envelope.  It won't matter what kind of gift you purchase, as your hand written notes will provide the greatest gift of all---yourself.

Happy Blessed Christmas, six months early!!!!!!!!!

Pain

Pain has become part of my life since my car accident in January 2006.  In attempts to diminish it, medication, meditation, physical therapy, prayer, and a TENS unit have partnered together. Yet, pain continues to reveal its' ugly head again and again, breaking through the combination that have keep it quieted to a one to two.  Today the pain pushed me to the point of inability to attend Mass, the sixth time this year.  Even trying to work has been overwhelming, with me now going part time from full time...with little hope for the pain to ever be controlled as it had been.  How odd that my life has changed so radically due to the accident!

Holy Trinity, I offer you my pain in union with the suffering of the whole church to save souls....  Thank you for Ministry to the Sick, who brought me Eucharist this morning.