Always

I sat at lunch today and realized how much a soul needs to bleed.  It is part of the companionship and rite of sitting at the "Cool Kid's Table".

So many things being discussed over the breaking of bread.  Or in our case, mini spring rolls.  We laugh and time passes so quickly.  Sometimes we shed tears either out of joy or out of misery.  Children grow up and you better have a mighty fine support network to help hold your laughs and dreams together beyond that-that's what friends are for. Our lunch dates are sacred.  The world's problems don't come knocking without an invitation to lunch.  Not allowed.

Listening to people at the next table compare class schedules for their children made me reflect back on the first year my oldest child went to school.
It wasn't a very dramatic thing. It was like the gentle closing of a door.  I encouraged him to be brave. To be aware. Somewhere along the way, I think we pushed our children to be too much.  Now, I just want them to be happy. To be safe. To be content.  That last word is the key to so many things.  Someone told me last week that they never get bored.  All cylinders firing all the time.  I do not recall my children ever saying they were bored.  Never. The things that make us happy & content are not really things. They are a state of being.  Those are the skills we should be teaching our children.  In the process, you will find yourself doing the same.

Recently, I have been on a mission to not over-manage anything. To just let it be.  I have almost reached that point. I would work myself to death trying to get one task finished only to realize I had missed the total goal.  My expectations and interpretations were always one step away.  There will never be enough money for me to be free.  There isn't suppose to be.  If monetary gain is the only purpose in life, it will always be a sad one.  I sat in not one, not two...but three hospital rooms on three separate occasions and witnessed what the power of money could not do.  It could not buy more time. It could not bridge a gap of true loneliness and it could not mend a family.  Only love can do two out of three.  I really like those odds.

I have had several people who recently had loved one's pass away from cancer. It is a cruel and heartless way to go.  I would rather get smacked by a truck than have my family sitting at my bedside dealing with that.
The one thing I know is the fleeting moment of panic that comes.  You are totally helpless.  An old friend told me "I don't know what my place or purpose is to be there at my Momma's bedside while she dies." My advice to him was that she had taken care of him for so long so it was his turn to return the love.

It is our duty, as the living, to accompany the dying to their final resting place.  I explained to him that she could still hear him whispering how much he loved her and that she wasn't alone. Still feeling the coolness of a damp rag on her forehead.  Still feeling the caress of his lips on the back of her hand.  Treat her like a baby. Keep the lights low, the temperature comfortable. Read to her.  Tell her about what the world outside of that room looked like and how the sun was beaming down that day-possibly her last day on Earth.  These are memories we need to cherish to find peace afterwards.  There is something that exists but we cannot quite grasp it....when a soul leaves a body.  It is almost like a wisp of solid air moves out of the corner of our sightline and then it's gone.  Softly. Quietly.
The person becomes a memory that is kept alive through photographs, stories and feelings.
And love.
Always through love.