Mark riding into the. UU Pit Stop on Sept 8…AIDS RIDE FOR LIFE.
10 AM Sat Sept 22
Mark was the best…in one hour, our First Unitarian Church will say goodbye to him. I wrote this poem for him because in my sadness, I realized every encounter I had with him over 22 years represented deliberate sweet kindness.
The Sacred Hour
This is our scared hour
The one right now
Which sits before us
Without all of the yesterdays or nebulous tomorrows:
And what shall we do with this sacred hour?
In the best possible world,
We can work with each other to be kind and pause before our utterances:
To support connection and joy not destruction and hurt?
We can take the skills the great spirit sent us
And Make the world a better place, one interaction, one moment, one hour at a time.
“There are sounds to seasons. There are sounds to places, and there are sounds to every time in one’s life. ALISON WYRLEY BIRCH”
— Julia Cameron (Transitions)
That was Easter Sunday
Ram and I made a big ham and brought it to my Mother’s around noon. She was having trouble breathing, her breath kept catching in her throat but she just ignored it, “I’m fine,” she said when I asked her, “Are you ok?”
I know she enjoyed looking at the huge ham we brought down…it was over the range of normal, it could have fed twenty and we were a small group. It was delicious with the thick brown sugar glaze on top.
Kitty, as we called her, and Ram and I hung out after dinner. She said, “Do you have a minute. I just want to show you something, this is the quilt I made that won an award in 1980.” (small section pictured above)
She stood in the dining room and displayed it for us…she was smiling. It is a quilt I had seen before, and a story I had heard before, but I paid particular attention.
And that was the last best moment with my Mother. That is how I can remember her smiling as if she just won the prize, as if there really was something to be proud of in this thing we call life…something we can touch, feel and gaze on and leave for others. As if to say, I know I’m near the end, please don’t forget.
September 10th is my Mother’s birthday…she would have been 87. I want to believe she is somewhere helping others make beautiful quilts.
Click here to access the pdf of my book, My Rural Broadband Journey.
I wrote this book in blog form from 2011 to 2012. It is now 2018, Spectrum, Time Warner Cable’s replacement, MAY be connecting us soon. In the meantime,
thank heavens for Clarity Connect, or we would have had nothing for these last six years but HUGHES NET aka DIAL UP!
We are watching the second season of Anne with an E based on Anne of Green Gables. Never, on such humid summer days, has winter looked so inviting. The frosted grass in clouds and sun and snow tipped leaves.
The great thing about the Netflix series is that it shows the inevitable hurtles of life and how people help each other through them. It also shows the resilience of a soul. Anne had been badly abused in an orphanage but she finds her way to people who love her and she hopes…she hopes to see the absolute wonders of life and celebrate them daily.
If you read my blog, you will note that this year has been one of incredible sadness. My dear dear friend Joe passed on October 26 2017 and my mother died on July 13. My Mother’s death a striking blow as it is truly the end of an era for my husband and I. We enjoyed our visits with her, her stories of growing up, and her constant comment tea. We also enjoyed the occasions when we would meet up with my siblings at her place.
But channelling Anne with an E,”isn’t it just wonderful to be alive today and safe and look out at this big tree from my balcony.”
And isn’t it cool that this Quaking Aspen was nurtured over 40 years into it’s current height by my husband. I am going out to pick tomatoes now…John McCain said be grateful for each hour. That is my intention today!