Happy St. Patrick's Day! I do have some Irish blood running through these veins, but truth be told I have no attachment to it. The English blood takes up more space in me. But ...I do love corned beef and cabbage ...and Irish bread. I gave it my all today starting with green pancakes, Irish music, festive hats, a slight imperfect brogue from my tongue ...and of course, the boiled dinner. I give it my all ...and most moments it isn't hard, the smile, the fun, making the little things enjoyable ...but often, just below the smile are the tears ready to sprout. Every first, be it holiday, holy day, birthday, change of the clocks, opening the windows to the first mild air, the promise of spring as crocuses poke their way through soil ...all of them remind me that she is not here. It won't always be so ...that's what they tell me anyway, those who've walked this lonely, sad road before me, before us. But for now, every time I notice she is not here ...I ask why ...how ...what, what stole her from me? where is my oldest daughter? I cannot stop asking that question, though the hope of an answer has faded considerably. Time will answer those questions ...when my time here ends. For years I've prayed for patience ...not one of my gifts ...and now I have no choice but to wait, forced patience, forced. Not such a bad thing I guess against the backdrop of eternity ...but for this mother, certainly a tough thing.
Of course, there are always blessings along the way, bumping into friends, old, new, long ago ...I had that chance today. When I was hired for the nursing job I have now, I went through orientation with a women that for some reason seemed familiar to me. I had never seen her before, but something tugged at me even while we sat in different parts of the room. As meetings, speakers changed and we were shifted around we found ourselves sitting together and assumed a natural conversation that seemed to just pick up where it had left off. Her first comment to me was that she thought our place of employment should hire me as a fashion consultant. I thanked her, but inside I was hysterically laughing. I can barely make it out of my room without revision from my daughters. Most of the time you would think I was trying to wear men's pants, pink sparkly high heeled boots and a snow hat, given the reprimands I receive for my poor, pathetic fashion sense. Along with that, I am not a fashion person and have never been accused of such. This day, I just got lucky! So that's how our friendship started. Turns out we share a mutual friend ...who had asked me to pray for this friend I had never met who was in need of a job. So I did! Only to find myself seated with her, sharing our faith, our faith, our stories ...our common friend. I had prayed for this lovely woman to find a job ...and she did. I saw her today, had the chance to chat for a few minutes. We met about six weeks before Phoebe died, she never met her ...but she knows me before and after. I like it when we can talk about God and His plan ...and the struggle to accept and follow it. Bumping into someone like that is like stopping at the gas station and refueling. I feel richer, fuller, safer ...more stable and certain of the world after an encounter like that. Later, buzzing through the grocery store I saw an old high school friend ...another chance to fill up, rekindle something important from a long time ago. She had met Phoebe, but hadn't seen her since she was probably 8 yrs old. Life moves quick, taking us on lots of different trails. Both of these women, saw me first, did double takes and embraced me ...came right to me. Those are nice moments for me ...very soothing.
Other times, I see someone I know, someone who knew my girl pretty well and they hold their head low, look away. I know they've seen me ...feel awkward. But that hurts ...makes me feel invisible ...makes me question their genuine care for me, my family, my daughter. It doesn't make me angry ...but certainly sad. No one has to say anything ...a simple smile, or wave ..."hope things are well" is enough. Remember that when you see someone who's lost someone close ...don't turn away, pretend they aren't there. Every encounter is a link to the present ...a hope that keeps us living, clinging to life ...remember that. I had two gifts today, two ...what a blessing. I woke up asking St. Patrick to toss me a favor today, and he did ...and I feel blessed. I wonder how Phoebe spent this day ....I wonder if she missed me ...probably not, considering where she is. But I sure did miss her ...I know she would have forbid me from wearing my big Irish hat to work ...but I think she giggled today and saw the smiles it brought to the folks I encountered.
Happy St. Patrick's day!
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.
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