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| Vespa - the Queen, and Hunter - the Crackhead posing for a treat. |
I just turned off the news with the hyper-reporting of the devastation in Mexico and Puerto Rico – hurricanes and earthquakes galore. Hundreds dead and no end in sight.
I have a real problem with the hyper-vigilant reporting. This is not a new movie debuting – this is disaster. Can we calm it down a bit? We really do not need to sell more newspapers, thank you very much. There is sorrow in the world – always has been - and will be for a long long time. This should not be about ratings – but truthful and calm reporting? What a novel idea.
And then there is Hunter, missing his human as only a dog can after 2 ½ days gone - he is in my face and lap and has been for the past few hours.
And I say to him – 'thank God you are a dog – you don’t know about the tragedy and disaster in the world. You have 2 hots and a cot and that’s all you care about (well maybe a walk or 2 )' – the grace of God indeed. And he responds by cleaning my face.
But anyway, I digress… earlier this afternoon I came home from a 2 ½ day conference for leaders in my synod – a yearly coming together of clergy, some with spouses, other church leaders, to learn, to enjoy fellowship, to share meals together, to revel in the grace of God. And we did. We listened to a well-known resource on biblical preaching – and a well-known church musician – and it was all good. (Where have you heard that before?)
The music, I think, was what got me. Yes, the keynote speaker was excellent – but I’m not preaching now and so I was listening with 3/4 of an ear.
But the music. Churchy hymns, most unknown to me, some folk music. But as music will do, something opened up in me that I didn’t know was closed. One of the hymns/songs that I heard ( I don’t know which it was, but yes there is a difference) had the words ‘father and mother ‘in it. And I lost it. Actually I was on the verge of losing it for the entire 2 ½ days. Tears behind the damn of my eye lids. And while I knew I was in a safe place (why else would I be here?), it’s not pretty to ‘lose it’ in public.
So I tried to be discreet, but did not go unnoticed. My colleagues knew that my husband had died suddenly 3 months prior – we keep each other informed, that’s what we do. And so there were hugs with no words – (yes, that’s good), and questions – ‘how are you?’ meant with sincerity and waiting for an honest response – which they got in spades. (Probably to their chagrin!). And that was good as well.
But amidst the hymns proclaiming God’s grace, God’s love, no matter what, God’s abiding, Jesus abiding in us; amidst the emotional words that all hymns have, somewhere were the words ‘father and mother.’
And it was all I could do to stay sane. My parents have been gone for a long while. My mother – 17 years, my father 27.
Long enough to ‘get over it’ one would say.
But no. NO. Not this day.
It’s been years since I have remembered them with intense emotion. But not so yesterday.
I miss my mother. And, yes, even my father. If Glenn had died before my mother did, we could have commiserated together – talked about the hurt and pain – but it was not to be. And stoic that my father was, even he might have been a help.
But they are no longer here – and so I can only imagine what they might say or do.
And yesterday and today I miss them in a way that I haven’t for many years. Like a kid with a bruised knee, a child in the throes of chicken pox, a teen in angst over a betrayal, a boyfriend leaving you for another. Mothers are supposed to be there when you need them.That‘s what Mothers do!!!!!!!!
Right?? MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Try as I might, there is no glass of wine large enough, no box of Kleenex soft enough, no bed with covers deep enough, or bedrooms dark enough to make this better. They are both by my side, the wind and the Kleenex, but even adding Hunters kisses to the mix it is not enough.
And that’s the rub – I don’t know what is enough to dull the pain, the physical-emotional pain. Don’t be fooled, folks, it is physical. Should I even try? How the hell do I know?
Today was another day of chest hurt and hard to breath. And so I didn’t – sing that is. You can’t sing when your chest hurts, there is no breath, you can’t see through the monsoon of tears, and your emotions are that untamed mustang dodging the halter.
I knew this would be a bumpy ride – and it hasn’t let up.
And yet a wise woman asked me,’ So what gives you life now?’ And I had to be honest: friends, family and colleagues that truly care and there are more of these that I even knew existed. But they are not there in the dark of the night or the early mist of the morning. I can’t yet go to the God thing. If She were to stand in front of me I not even sure what I would do – or say. So the sigh too deep for words is all I’ve got. For now. That has to be good enough - 'cuz it's all I've got.
Yet even as I make these emotions tangible by putting them in 3D, putting these words somewhere, I still can’t quite make sense of it. I guess all I can do is try to ride it out- like they are in Puerto Rico and Cuba and Mexico and the Caribbean - ride out the hurricane and the earthquake and the resulting disorder.
I told you this would be bumpy – and I wasn’t kidding… but, once again, there is not a damned thing I can do about it.
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