A Personal Journey
A few nights ago, my Mother had a heart attack. She is doing better, though still dealing with a wide array of health issues. This afternoon, sitting in her room, watching her sleep, I called my very dear friend Shahnaz. Every time we speak, though separated by thousands of miles, it is as we had just had lunch the day before. As soon as we said hello, she immediately told me how happy she was to hear from me, that she had been thinking of me, and wanted to call, but did not want to bother me – you are not a bother. Shahnaz asked about my family, sent her good wishes and prayers, and shared with me that she had just spoken to Lia, our mutual dear friend who introduced us, and also lives thousands of miles away, in the opposite direction. Lia was going to light candles today for my Mother and Sister. How I miss our long lunches that turned into dinners and even a breakfast or two. But in the conversation I also learned that Shahnaz has lost a very special friend, and my heart breaks at her loss. I offer my condolences, knowing even as I speak that my words can offer little comfort. Tonight I pray that God will give her strength; that He will give us all strength.
I had not intended to neglect these pages last month, nor had I thought another week would pass before I posted this month. I will confess to having felt, on more than one occasion, of late, that perhaps I had run out of words and that the words had run out of purpose – nevertheless I kept snapping pictures and making notes. We are away from home, in New England, though not on holiday.
We have ventured north early this year, due to family illness and family growth; and we plan to stay longer than usual. It is strange to be here, familiar yet not. We have spent too much time in hospitals and hotels, missing our normal life along the way – whatever that normal may mean. However, we have also submitted our will on this journey, finding perhaps it is time to redefine our life.
The past month was not unremarkable. We have lost our dear friend, Joan Hayden. Joan was quite a woman, and she will be missed. I am so sorry we were unable to say a proper good-bye Joan. Also, we have mourned the loss of Steve Jobs, who was not a dear friend, but certainly an inspiration; they both passed away on the same day.
The ups and downs of this month have brought a time of reflection regarding the people in my life. I have thought a great deal about our friend Anna, who in a moment when I felt despair, without being asked, offered me a perfect and priceless gift of loyalty and kindness, which truly lifted my spirits and gave me great hope. Also, Marcial, whom I owe a phone call, but who I know understands why I have not called. He and his incredible wife, Adriana, whose lives are exceedingly hectic and demanding, and who are also dealing with an unwell parent; yet always reach out to us in such tenderness, and without expectation, offering love and support – I so dearly love them! Then there is Andy and Susan, our sometimes neighbors and all of the time friends, who upon arriving in our neighborhood for a quick weekend visit, instantly noticed new, city delivered, trash cans, on our curb. They called to ask us if we wanted them brought in – yes, thank you! Apparently, they have been sitting out there for weeks, and I could not help but think of all of the neighbors who had to have seen them, and who did not bother to lift a hand on our behalf, but that is the wrong thought. How amazing that Susan and Andy, with only a few days to spend in South Florida with their precious grandson and first born daughter, would bother to look out for us.
As I said, we having been living in hotels, for long weeks now; and thought we had settled into the perfect place when a freakish Nor’easter (a very heavy snow storm that should arrive later in the season) found its’ way to Massachusetts, and sent our hotel into darkness. There were millions of people without power, and we were forced to look for a new place to stay. We ventured to Maine, which was once home. When we first pulled up to our new hotel, I looked through the large glass walls, my eyes leaping over the potted plants, sofas, and art; landing on the tables where guests sat sipping a beverage of choice, and nibbling from small plates of appetizers. Suddenly, I remembered Kitty and Bob sitting at that table. When Beth, my oldest niece, who is now expecting her first child, got married, Bob and Kitty stayed at this hotel; as did my Mother, as there was no room where Kate and I stayed. I remember being pleasantly surprised to see them that night. They were so relaxed and seemed to very much be enjoying each other’s company. Two years later we lost Kitty. http://thatisallfornow.com/?page_id=1304 It has been that kind of trip.
We have been privileged to stand in a crowded room when Kyle and Beth found out that they were welcoming a little girl, and thrilled that Bob and Sue, Kyle’s parents came out from Oregon to be there at that moment, we had not seen them since the wedding; equally thrilled that Great-Grandmother to be, my Mother, was in that room, carried down the steps, in a wheel chair, by Grandfather to be Juan, and uncle to be Nic.
I have also sat in a doctor’s office and been told that my Mother’s kidney cancer is inoperable, because of her other health issues; and sat in a waiting room while my younger sister, Caroline, underwent surgery. Sitting with Doug, Caroline’s husband, and her daughter, Hannah, and my older sister, Joy, and her daughters Beth and Allison, while Kate sat with my Mother, it is a day I shall never forget. I come from a family of prayer warriors, and while we may all lead separate busy lives, when it matters we come together. Sitting in that waiting area, wondering and praying for Caroline, and the surgeon operating on her, I could not help but be grateful for the amazing people in my life.
Life is about the people we share the moments with; and finding people to love, who love us back really is everything. There are more ups than downs. Tomorrow morning, Kate and I will make our way to the dining-room, in the hotel which we are now calling home. We have spent the most time here, and with power fully restored, we have come back to the hotel with the best breakfast we have had since our time in Argentina. Truly, the food is delicious – an omelet bar, fresh fruits, including strawberry’s with real whip cream, croissants which taste of France, and little jars of jam that I love! But on Sunday morning, as we walked into the restaurant, I realized what made this place so special – Gail.
We had been gone for a week, but the first thing she said to us, after a warm greeting, was “How is your sister? Wasn’t she supposed to get her test results back on Tuesday?” I stood there for a second or two, and thought how amazingly kind a stranger can be, and how incredibly blessed I felt by Gail. She had not waited on us the first day, but thereafter, if we were in the restaurant when she was, Gail would make her way to our table, generously offering to refill glasses and making sure Kate had her Tabasco sauce and ketchup – yes, being a great waitress; but more importantly always offering us a warm smile and asking how we were, truly caring about the answer.
On the night of the Nor’easter, we had been visiting Caroline, at the hospital in downtown Boston. It was a slippery ride home, where Kate drove flawlessly, overcoming at least three skids. When we got back to the hotel, we went to the restaurant for dinner. Gail was not working, but seeking refuge from the storm. She saw us sit down, and walked over to us with her usual warm and gregarious smile, Gail introduced us to our waitress, saying “these are my friends.” It was such a kind gesture. They were such perfect words.
We are not home, well maybe we are. Anyway, I am back; and thus that is not all for now.
