Rose- International Rose Garden, Portland, OR
I am sitting at my little and very battered oak desk. It was my Grandmother’s desk and it makes me happy just to see and have it in my library. I can feel the very stong presence of my dear Grandmother and Mother as I sit and write. The desk is old and unstable and needs major repair, but I love it no less for it’s being wobbly and prone to lopsidedness.
All morning I worked at catching up on correspondance for Breath is the Answer as well as personal connections. The art of communication. I pause and reflect as I remember eight years ago today. I don’t remember the weather, but I expect it was sunny, as days in the San Francisco Bay area are in the early Fall. I remember the call that my Mother had died. This came as no surprise as she had greatly declined in the previous month. I had grieved for the month, knowing the end was not far. As much as I did not want her to leave this life, I did not want her to hang on and suffer. My being therefore, was filled with grief as well as with relief that she would not suffer more. In my sadness, I never imagined how her very stong spirit would not leave and how I would feel her close time and time again in the future. What a gift!
I wonder if there is a lesson as well as a gift here. I chuckle at that thought and the answer is, of course, there is always a lesson. Lessons and gifts come to us generously when we are open to them. We can never know exactly when or what they will be.
Even with the dismal pounding of rain and chilly September temperatures, I have had an exhiliarating sense of anticipation these past few days. I am thankful that I am able to pause, recognize and enjoy these positive feelings and energy. It brings to light again, the value of learning to pause, of actually practicing that pause. As predictable as the inevitable stopping of the downpour and emerging of the sunshine, breath returns and enlivens me more. Could it be the lesson and gift for now is that remembering dear Mother’s death brings with it also the renewal of her spirit within her daughter? Grief, life, rain, sunshine, pause, breath, inspiration, the stimulus and our response.
I sit at my little desk; I see my Grandmother’s photo, she in her turn-of-the-century (early 1900) finery, her croquet mallet in hand beside the Salmon River in Northern New York State. I smile as I remember my Mother and Grandmother who both lived life to the fullest. I am grateful for that lesson and the ability to pause and embrace the memories and the new adventures ahead while experiencing the NOW.