I am well aware that life gets lifey sometimes and in the midst of joy, there is sorrow and in the midst of sorrow, joy. Somewhere in the mix is blank space, silence, seeming nothingness. In that reprieve, it gives us time to rest. I’ve not been adept at that last part. As my 10th cardiaversary is coming up on June 12th, I have been speaking a lot about the experience of an unexpected heart attack at the age of 55 and the life changes it necessitated. Change in diet, activity, expectations for myself, cardiac rehab, respecting my body’s needs, especially for rest were on the forefront of my mind back then. Admittedly, they have slipped out a bit and I have gotten lax. That’s when my body reminds me that it isn’t havin’ it. In the past month or so, I have experienced an exacerbation of asthma and COPD which has meant staying home a lot and taking an assortment of treatments. My kitchen countertop reminds me of my parents’ at the end of their lives. I have a morning routine that involves ingesting the little pills, using an inhaler and as of last week, a nebulizer treatment as needed. I have temporarily traded gym workouts for pedaling on my recumbent bike and using hand weights in my living room. Looking forward to getting back to The Judgement Free Zone, a.k.a. Planet Fitness.
Yesterday was the first time I have been out and about socially in a while. One of the other venues for which I write is called the Bucks County Beacon which is a progressive publication that publishes articles that shine a light on social justice issues locally, nationally and globally. On a beautiful, sunny Saturday, the Beacon hosted an outdoor music fundraiser called Beaconfest at the bucolic Snipes Farm and Education Center in Morrisville, PA. With friends I have known for years and those who I have only connected via the marvels of modern technology, I soaked in the sounds of locally based musicians. At one point, in ones and twos, birds fluttered in to the barn and settled onto the high beams and sang along. I meandered around the tables and chatted with people who were sharing information about the needs of the country from the perspective of positive change. And there were hugs…lots and lots of hugs.
Prior to the event, I was on a video call with dear friends who are facing the biggest challenge of this lifetime. Jody, a longtime singer-songwriter, kirtan chant artist and yoga teacher was diagnosed with a glioblastoma about a year ago. Her speech was affected dramatically. Imagine being a singer and teacher who can’t articulate what you want to say or sing. Her husband Doug has been her voice in the past year and, with her consent, translates what she is attempting to express. I have known her for more than 25 years and when he came into her life, I was delighted that they had each found their match. I had the joy of officiating at their wedding. They are now living the ‘in sickness and health’ part of the wedding vows. At this portion of the journey, Jody has decided to enter hospice. “I am at peace,” she repeated several times during our conversation. I cried with them as they face their new reality. I plan to take the five hour trip to their home at the end of June to simply sit with them in solidarity, with all the feelings that arise.
Today, I was at the funeral of my best friend’s mother-in-law. I have known ‘Cookie’ as was her nickname, for more than 30 years. A funny, devoted, tough, (yes, a tough cookie), devotional, intelligent, both intellectually and emotionally woman. We had many conversations about religion, politics, health, love and creativity. Before she died, Barb cleaned out her home to sell it, as she moved into an assisted living home. There she found two things that she knew Cookie would want me to have. The first is a No Nukes bumper sticker that is now proudly displayed on my car, along with the other hippie messages. The second is a carved wooden peace sign which is now hanging on a wall in my house. Over the years she has given me scarves since she knows that is my fashion statement. Her grandchildren were the pall bearers that carried their Bubbe’s coffin to the hearse and then to her final resting place in the mausoleum next to their grandfather’s. As I took in the names and messages on the plaques of their new neighbors, I was moved by how much love was expressed. I hope that these folks experienced that feeling when they were still on this side of the veil.
In the midst of all this life happening, my 11 year old great niece’s softball team made it into their championship. She is a super duper catcher. Although I have never seen her play since she lives almost two hours away, my sister (the proud grandmother) sends videos.
My grandchildren are growing by leaps and bounds and keeping me on my toes. They are bright, clever, creative, silly, bold, intelligent, loving and sometimes, as much as I adore them, I feel exhausted at the end of my kid care shift. My son sent me a video of my four-year-old grandson running as fast as his little legs could carry him, down the football field, blasting past the other players to make a touchdown in his flag football game, the last of the season.
Each day, I do my best to feel and express gratitude for the amazing people and extraordinary experiences I have, even as life gets messy and challenging.
“There is something wonderfully bold and liberating about saying yes to our entire imperfect and messy life.” – Tara Brach
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This Post is republished on Medium.
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Photo credit: Author
