Thursday, November 28, 2013
Thanks Be to God...
Yesterday was a delight...beautiful snow showers...a visit to an old
friend at Trinity Glen...coming home to a house decorated for the
holidays...hot chocolate in front of the fire. Lovely...
But this morning, tears came unbidden as I found myself longing
for Thanksgivings long past and the people no long present. I
felt suddenly bereft...of purpose, of hope, of joy. A shroud of
loneliness covered me, blotting out the already-brightly-shining
sun. I was alone...felt alone...and I found myself wondering just
what these nearly seventy-two years of my life have been all about.
The tears passed, as they are wont to do, and as I stood in the
blessedly hot shower, I began thinking about this day- meant to be
a day of giving thanks, though it has taken the meaning of a day
for family and feasting- not a bad thing, except for those who have
neither family nor food. And I have both- in abundance, if truth
be told. And friends...beautiful, wonderful, sharing, caring friends
in so many places, their faces so dear to me as I turn over the
pages of the memory album in my mind.
And so, grabbing a handy pen, I began to list those things for
which I am truly thankful on this Day of Thanksgiving 2013.
Today- this day of life.
Home- a safe & welcoming place for family & friends- and me.
Anyone who crosses my path, perhaps an angel in disguise.
Nourishment- from food, films, theater, good books, stimulating
Kathy, my sister, still here with us and celebrating each day.
Susan, my other sister- though far away in Texas, she is always
in my heart.
Grief- because it reminds me of the joyful price of loving.
Inema Arts Centre, which has given me the incredible gift of
two young Rwandan friends.
Virtually every word written by Mary Oliver, May Sarton, Maya
Angelou, and John O'Donohue.
Incarnated love in the people of Nazareth Lutheran Church.
New friends and old- filling my life with meaning and joy.
Grandchildren- all nine of them- and my five wonderful "children":
Hope, Matty, Mark, Meredith, and Paul.
Tears long gone, I read the funny e-mail form my friend, Bob, and
laugh out loud. I take down the book of favorite family cookie
recipes and prepare to make a list for baking. I sit before the fire,
happily anticipating dinner with my youngest son at Cracker
Barrel. And as I offer a prayer of hope and blessing for those alone
and lonely and hungry and cold on this Thanksgiving Day, I realize
that there can be no room in my heart and life today for anything