Sounds of Love

This week (well actually the past few weeks) I've been struggling with my vision . . the retinitis pigmentosa that narrows my visual field to a little pindot on the right behind the subcapsular cataract sandbagging my central vision . . and on the left that caters to my right and pretends that schisms are just a part of the way things are..and so I've been having a little pity party :( Yes, I have them, too . . the Dr in the house, the intellectual, the philosopher. And Christ (yes, dad, that's a prayer:) . . I've really had enough! So I visited my favorite therapist . . Patty . . .she offers her salon chair in the corner . . a shelter against the onslaught of the outside world . .and she listens . . intent on every word. And it is the calm in her reply to my angst that gives me hope . .as she says, "we will never let you go through this all alone, I will always be here for you". And although I truly know that I am not alone . . my sisters, my daughters, my son, my mother . . and my bear.

And even as I share this tonight, it is not in grief . .although I have grieved and I'm sure my tears are not over . . but I write it in love for those who are willing to never let us walk alone . . to always be there with us and for us .. to love us even in our imperfection and our struggle to become whole again . . or to create that new place where we are more sure of our steps that we were before.

And so, for you, too . . I am here . . for my ability to hear is even keener now than it was before . . as always, I am still here . . listening

A Child's Gift of Love

Today is my middle child's birthday . .and I woke up to the sweet memory of my huge rounded belly (clad in brightly colored a tie-dyed shirt) . . my smiling face as I mugged to the camera in the kitchen leaving for the hospital . . and the noisy suckling of this dark headed beauty as she nuzzled in close to become one with me on that afternoon 34 years ago. Amazing, aren't they . . .those children who at once are a part of us and in the same instance are individuals completely separate and unique. I am awed by this process of motherhood . . linking me forever to the lives of three undeniably smart, funny, and successful children (now adults). And although I am proud of who they have become . . and as they continue to flourish . . I am also drawn back in to reflect on the influence they have had on my life (a life I never would have had without them). I am humbled by the precious gift of love . . true love, unconditional love, sticky-gooey kisses . . dirt encrusted nails . . tangled hair, creatively shaved heads . . earring piercings and tattoos. Love. For them, I have pulled myself up by the bootstraps (more times than I sometimes care to remember) . . as they have prodded and nudged me to become who I am, too. And so, on this day I once again will put myself to my work . . to create, to grow, to flourish . . as their love nurtures me . . in ways that no matter what I write can never be captured. But for them . . and for me . . and for those of you who are mothers (and fathers). . you will understand. The stories . ..those lessons we learn from our children are gifts of love . .and for me, they trump all others. How as your child's gift of love changed you? I'm here . . I'm listening . . .

Sister Love

Today is Thursday . . a day of sharing with my sisters . . .a day where we chat on the phone. . .a day that we set aside . . .a day of love. A couple of years ago, the crises of family life seemed to be falling down around our shoulders as my sisters and I were pushed and pulled into one roiling trauma after another. Our old maiden aunt was dying . . and then did pass away. Our father's behavior was erratic, childlike in one moment to angry in another, as Alzheimer's diminished his aging graces and we scurried in nerve-ending frenzy to make certain he did not fall or fail in the company of others. My niece was pregnant with an abnormal chromosomal marker screening (turned out to be twins), my nephew was heading off to college (which he did and then returned) and I was screeching insane with the reality of my husband's affair just revealed (the scars of which I have tucked away, but still linger). And in the midst of all of that . . .my sisters and I fell into the arms of each other and learned how to become resilient. Through those terrible days and weeks which turned into months of prolonged heartache when my father fell on the ice, broke his leg, had a massive heart attack and left us all to grieve his death . . .my sisters and I rediscovered each other and became stronger than we ever were before. We found comfort in the ordinary . . in our commoness of struggle . . .in our search for meaning and explanations . . we spoke with and to each other. In whispered tones and in shouted emotion . .amidst hot tears and cold shoulders and bellyrolls of socially inappropriate laughter . . we survived in the warmth of each other's arms and voices. It is a bond that is so deep and so strong . . . and so beautiful. It's Thursday. Have you talked to your sister today? Have you told her lately just how much you love her?