Thursday, January 7, 2010


I'm not up for lighthearted chatter today, but there are things to be said that will hopefully straddle the pathway between morosity and artificial gaiety.

yesterday evening we brought my son home from the hospital, after stopping treatment for his pneumonia. he had reached a point where interventions either needed to be intensified, or ended. I could write a small volume about all that went into that, but it's not necessary. he came home, and I am gently thrilled to have him here with me at this point in his life. we are calm and peaceful here, and I am full of gratitude and love.

I've been contemplating my current situation with my son, and thinking about the fact that it's just my time to be going through a Major Life Event. I visualize the spin class room, and picture every bike filled with a body. I could go around the room and ask each person what kind of challenges life has thrown their way, and I would hear at least two dozen heartbreaking stories. there would be stories of death, and of triumph over difficulty. stories of loss, and of suffering and sorrow. the tales would be from 10 years ago or 15, or from last winter. none of escape unscathed.
of the people I know best in that class, the stories include divorces, overcoming cancer, experiencing a wife's successful bout with cancer, living with a wife's degenerative illness . . . and these are people I only associate with for biking. if I knew them more intimately, I'm sure I would know of more challenges and struggles.
mine is just one more. I'm taking my turn. it feels like a long turn, certainly, but the good news is that I can handle it. not just me by myself, but me with my living support team of friends, family and acquaintances, and even more importantly, my spiritual support team who choose to remain unseen.
but rarely unfelt.

there's a song from the sound of music which can really only be listened to if julie andrews is singing it. my son's dad has frequently sung this verse in moments of happiness: nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could, so sometime in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good.
as I believe in reincarnation in some form or another, and I also believe in karma, I expand the theme of this verse to past lifetimes as well. and somewhere, sometime, somehow, in some way, I must have done a million good things.
because I am loved. I am blessed a million times over. as difficult as some of the experiences that life has presented me have been, I have always been guided through to the other side.

this afternoon a medical social worker came to meet with us, as part of the hospice team. her job is to assess the situation, and work to provide whatever supports may be lacking.
we lack nothing.
we have family, we have friends, we have a warm home. we have spiritual support, we have religious support. we have everything we need.
I have nothing to ask for, and there is not a better place to be in the entire world.
I have my son here with me, we are surrounded by a cocoon of love and protected by a multitude of angels, and we now can relax into the gift of time with one another.

somewhere, sometime, somehow, in some way, I must have done a million good things.

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