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.