It is early morning and my husband, who turned sixty six while we were sleeping, is savoring his birthday sleep-in snooze. I am awake and checking off list items in anticipation of our Thanksgiving trip to New York. Except...now I am taking that well deserved pause to reflect and be grateful. I reflect a lot but cannot seem to manage the pause, the writing of it. I realize that after the storms that life presents us, one must do a thorough cleaning of the debris shaken from the trees or the shelves or the soul sometimes...and then assess...and then rebuild... or at least re organize...be that the spirit or the space.
This Thanksgiving week is just that. I have been shaken loose by the mini eruptions of emotion as I again remember the loss of my mother and Bobs, just this year. They left us peacefully, before the full bloom of spring, two months apart. No doubt they have much to be grateful for, as their unanticipated(to us) passings, and their journey to final moments were brief... each accompanied more by a quiet tide of emotional suffering than a physical one. I imagine heaven is made of husbands to dance with once again, and sisters to share a word or a day with as well. It is a balcony from which to view the earthly goings on of those they call family, living a different life here, but one still familiar. I imagine there are no storms in heaven...much to be grateful for! I do believe they are with us still, in our manners and traditions, the capabilities and the challenging demeanors, the invisible bonds of love and angst, the ultimate "YES" and the struggles with forgiveness.
Thanks for the lessons ladies! For you I am most grateful. All the storms of those final years, the lessons learned about aging and graceful living, regret and persistence taught me what I am made of. Sadness still creeps in, like the leaves that blow into ones path even after the raking and the bagging of autumns debris is done.
Tears and spills stain the fresh tablecloth that covers the wear of the table. There is no hiding wear and tear nor pain and loss. There is cause for gratitude though...in the memories made at that table and the lessons learned so long ago about bounty, style, finesse, beauty. There is gratitude for endurance-for that is what is we soak in as a result of the ravaging waters of living. It is there whether we know it or not, appreciate it or ignore it. Like the calm after a storm, there is loss to face indeed. Steps may seem heavier and bodies so hard to energize. After all assessment, there are choices, and so many decisions to make...the stuff of exhaustion! Endurance finds us unexpectedly and we move on.
The year has indeed been stormy, accompanied by the whining and the tremors of incredulous happenings in the world beyond my doors. I could make the list of so much to be unhappy about, and forgive myself for the drowning of it in excessive eating or drinking or complaining or moping. But, the daughter in me has learned that this healthy body will not exit stress and malaise quite so easily! There is a breeze of fresher air gently lifting me from my chair, and a pink morning sky that signals a new day rising. I will follow the impulse to move to a place of gratitude once again.
Out on the harbor I am so grateful to see from my window, there lies a stillness...a calm. The day looms innocently and free of expectations. Let that be my vision as I head out into its arms. Let me be gently nudged by gratitude should the thoughts or occasion arise. Let nothing shake my sense of wonder, nor break the core of endurance I am building within. Then, like one who weathers a storm, I shall emerge ready to move on, beyond the debris and distractions to the shelter of a beautiful world...still. Thanks giving indeed!
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