Memorare

REMEMBER, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession was left unaided. Inspired with this confidence, I fly to thee, O Virgin of virgins, my Mother; to thee do I come; before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer me. Amen.

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Tender Mercies

Our oldest turned twenty one today. Tomorrow, our youngest son turns eight. Kids keep growing, no matter what's happened ...life bumps along. We celebrate without her, and the thought of her is always in my heart and mind. I see here giggle at the silly things that happen and she's been dispatched tonight to trail her brother his first night out as an official adult.
Someone asked me yesterday if I feel her around me. When I answered no, they stared in disbelief "she is all around you ...you really don't feel her?". No I do not. I wish I did. Maybe that's how God wants it for me now, and thats okay ...even though I don't like it. I have to choose God and trust Him and believe in his mercy ...without feeling it, without that confirmation. And believe me, that is a daily struggle. I see God's hand everywhere ...and I believe. But ...I do not feel Him, or her, my girl. I wonder sometimes why others feel her, sense her around them ...certain she is by their side. Why would they get that privilege, that grace, and I don't ...I'm her mother after all ...wouldn't it make sense that I be the one to sense her. In our world, that seems logical, but God transcends logic and asks us, invites us to trust Him even when He seems untrustworthy. I'm trying.
And thought I don't have that grace I so strongly want ...He gives me others.
Tonight, I look at my 6'2" son and marvel at life with him for twenty one years. He calls me "madre" and jokingly bosses me around. He's a pleasant person ...easy to be around ...likable. All he wanted for his birthday was gum ...seriously. Easy enough. Every child brings certain challenges to their parents ...but he's been a fairly simple kid. Had he a different temperament ...I'm not so sure there be as many others under this roof. God's mercy. He knows me well ...He exercised great patience with this reluctant believer.
And as the day passes to give way to another, we begin the celebration of our other son, Owen.
He turns eight. Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal is on the counter for him. We never buy that kind of cereal, so its a real treat for him. He'll be excited when he rises to see that on the counter ...and he will run to me to hurriedly ask if he can have some. Simple pleasures. He's always loved Lucky Charms ...another treat he enjoys when he visits Neenie and Poppa. I thought for sure that would be his request, but I think he only wants that to be their treat ...keep me out of it. He's another easy temperament ...and he survives life
with the girls just fine. But he misses his biggest sister ...he tells me. They were pals. He would run to her whenever she came home. Last year she picked out the bike we gave him for his birthday. I thought it was too sophisticated, but she argued he would grow into it, that he would love it. And she was right ...Outside I heard her encouraging him, giving him tips, assuring him he could master handling this bike ...and he did. I stood at the window watching, marveling at her way with him. Owen had a special spot in her heart. I imagine she keeps a close eye, still, on him. Funny how looking back, I see so many key moments that led us to today ...to life without her. She left some tangible, poignant gifts in the months before her death. Phoebe left her mark.
Tonight I said goodbye to my first nurse boss. She's leaving for a new job that will use her gifts and talents in a very special way. I'll miss her. We talk about God every time I see her. Not too many people can say that about their boss. Not two months into starting my new career as a nurse, Phoebe died. I had to tell her I wasn't coming in to work. It was a hard call to make ...as they all were. I've believed for a while now that her purpose at this place was for me ...and my family. No other place, no other person in her position would have given me the care she gave to me ...and has continued to over these many months. Whatever I needed she gave to me. She's recognized the hole left in my life and the struggle to survive, while others around me so often seem to have forgotten ...or assume this loss has healed, or should have anyway. This woman owed me nothing ....and yet her sensitivity has been offered over and above what I ever would have expected. I needed to take time off from my already small schedule ...but I needed to hang on to it, for the simple distraction ...to give back, and care for others outside of my immediate life ...to see others struggling and hurting ...and help them. I've come to know first hand the way to bear my own wound is to help another's. Some won't let you help them ...there is always a reason why they can't be helped, or the help isn't quite right, or its not the right time or place ...a thousand reasons why no one could ever help them. But those that do let you, know they are helping you too. It's an amazing thing really ...and this woman who hired me knew this somehow, and choreographed a routine that helped us all ...an amazing gift.
So though I recognize God in all these moments ...I don't feel Him. Much like I don't feel or sense Phoebe. Just like the Eucharist ...I don't feel or sense Jesus is present ...but He is ...truly present ...body, blood, soul and divinity. And I don't need to feel Him or sense Him to believe ...to know its true.
All these little things, are big things really ....tender mercies from God. I see and believe ...even though I don't feel it. Believing isn't feeling, and feeling isn't believing. God is there whether I choose to believe or not ...it's the choosing that matters ...choosing God. And when I do ...choose God ...the tender mercies become obvious.
Happy Birthday to my boys ...the two finest I know!

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.

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