Unprecedented blessings

While driving earlier on, a radio DJ asked: In one word, describe how the year has been for you? I am loathe to say tough, although it has been tough for I most recently lost someone whom I love very much after journeying with her in her last months. It has been heartbreaking while at the same time I am glad that she is not suffering any longer, and rejoice that I have a new guardian angel looking out for me from heaven. Simply have to take the bad with the good.

I hesitate to say challenging as well for every year has its own challenges. Yet nothing is so bad that we cannot overcome adverse conditions, loss, or complete chaos, especially when God is on our side, and, more importantly, we are on His. No matter what happens, if I do not deviate from the narrow path of all that Christianity espouses, then I know I am good. Thus it has been in past years, and so it has been in these last 12 months, and will continue to be in the future. Nothing and no one can take away my joy, my bliss, my freedom. Not even a pandemic. Reading the Bible in a very intentional way this year has brought this message home to me more than ever. I am blessed, and I am immensely grateful for all I have been given. 

If I need to mask up when outdoors, watch that I am not standing too close to strangers, sanitize my hands frequently, curtail social gatherings and keeping gatherings to a legally prescribed number, so be it. If I have to stay home for several weeks, it is not the end of the world. No biggie. I love my family, some of whom are vulnerable, so I do my utmost to ensure they are not at risk. Life may have seemed more circumscribed, but it was definitely not diminished.

Besides work, I have been busy with family, especially grandchildren who have brought me tremendous joy. I have had the opportunity to work with my community and participate in a couple of outreaches via the wonders of Zoom. I have picked up a new ministry, journeying with people who wish to be baptized Catholics. I have had the privilege of journeying with someone and watching his conversion to Christ, something that brought him peace in his last days. I have put to use the gifts and talents I have been given, helped those who needed a helping hand, connected meaningfully with people, brought hope, maybe even a few laughs if not joy. 

The word I would choose to describe 2020 is unprecedented. Unprecedented in life experiences, and unprecedented in how I have been called to respond and act, to show love in new ways, to communicate in new ways, and to bear fruit in new ways. I am even been called to worship God in new ways. While all these new experiences may not have been fully comfortable in their initial strangeness, I continue to say yes and be open, adaptable to the newness of life. And I look forward to unprecedented ways to say thank you to my Maker for always making a way, even when there seems to be none. Look harder, there’s always a new way.

 

Letter to E

I cannot believe that you are no longer here. It has been almost a month and I have not really allowed myself to think of your passing except when I pray for I continue to pray for your soul my most heartfelt wish being that you are already with our Lord in paradise, no longer in purgatory. I believe you are already there with the many whose lives you have touched and transformed and who therefore are praying fervently the same prayer that I am. But call it insurance. Plus I know my prayers will not go to waste for they will help others who are still in purgatory so this is my win-win prayer for you. 

Although I cannot quite put into words my grief for it changes all the time, from inchoate to full blown depression (I’ve put on weight from all the emo eating I’ve indulged in to fill the emptiness inside, chocolate being my food of choice which, I am sure, you would approve), and I have isolated myself away from well-meaning friends who are grieving as I am for my grief is private and unique something I am not quite ready to share with others.

My memories range from the whimsical - all those magical times we shared: playing as girls, listening to the single Pappa loves Mama, trying to heal that beautiful blue butterfly we found in your garden; you happily showing me around Cambridge; that gorgeous summer’s day in Heidelberg when you drove down from Allerheiligen in the Black Forest to spend the afternoon with me; eating ice cream in wintery Boston, walking around the touristy surroundings of Faneuil Hall; those three life-changing weeks in Bangalore at Pastoral Counselling School where I first experienced God’s compassionate and forgiving mercy through you; our final carefree outing together at Sonya’s Secret Garden in Tagaytay - to the terrible: that Sunday morning you called me when you experienced great pain which we later realized was when the tumour had burst; to P feeding me Korean ginseng chicken soup when he broke the news of your cancer to me (I remember telling him I would go mad if I lost you for that was the year we both lost J.); watching you suffer through chemo that first round, the only relief provided by my wedding day; then the brief respite when you received the all clear PET scan results... until the cancer returned and the mad rollercoaster of grief began yet again as you went through the suffering of treatment which morphed all too quickly from preventive to palliative. 

It was hard watching your decline, that last year, that last month, that last week and that last morning. If I could have, I would have taken the suffering and pain away from you, yet all I could do was watch the awfulness of it all, pretty much helpless. 

There is so much love within my heart for you, this gift from God, this bond of pure love that has never changed except to grow stronger through the years from the time I could remember. I know it will never die even though you are not here physically, materially. 

Part of my grief is selfish for I am wondering how am I going to grow spiritually without you challenging me, encouraging me, guiding me, and loving me, even though I know this will never stop, for your spirit lives on in my heart, and I know you are still with me through our shared Catholic faith. 

There is, of course, great consolation in my desolation, knowing you are gained eternal life and that you are free from the chains of that odious cancer. For there is a lightness within my heart, as Emily Dickinson wrote, the thing with feathers that never stops singing - at all. You have become that thing with feathers, that little singing bird that will go on singing through the storms and gales of my life. 

Like Mary Magdalene I need to let go of known perceptions, comforting in their familiarity, to embrace a whole new reality of life, new life, resurrected life. Our lives together have just begun. The love never stops - ever...

Cana revisited

Who knew what the future would hold

A scant four years ago

In faith we said yes to marriage 

A life together having and holding

Hand in hand we have walked

Our hearts made whole in unity

Joined by our mutual love for the One

Who makes all things possible 

When we do whatever He tells us 

Miracles have abounded we are astounded 

By the joy of living as husband and wife

We give thanks for His wisdom and grace

His purpose and plan 

We say yes today and always

To praise and glorify Him

With deep gratitude for our Mother 

Who knew exactly what each one needed

The best for last to last forever

Blessed be the Lord our God

Who makes all things new and alive

Loving means letting go

I have let you go

By restful waters of a new life

A well deserved place at the table.

I have let you go

Into the arms of the shepherd

Who swaddles you cosy, carrying you home.

I have let you go

Ascending the mountain

Disappearing into the clouds.

I have let you go

In peace and joy to the Bridegroom

With one last backward smile goodbye 

I have let you go

Free from the interminable suffering

Free to be His beloved, desired child.

I have let you go

My selfish grief has settled

Into great rejoicing at your perfect healing.

I have let you go 

With great gratitude

For having known you and loved you.

I have let you go 

For I know you will never truly leave me

The gentle breeze whispers your heart. 

Grief-struck

Sad, sad, sad, incredibly sad, that this would happen

Why, why, why, it makes no sense, oh no, it doesn't.

Does it shake my faith? Of course it does.

Did my daily prayers not move You?

You are not listening to me!

Surely there’s still much to be done

The harvest is rich, and You need labourers

Is she not one of the best in Your sight

As she is, deep within my little girl heart?

Surely Your plans need time to unfold 

Why, at least until I am bent over with age?

You say to trust You with all of my heart,

and not lean on my own understanding,*

That the wisdom of this world is foolishness**

Then, help me understand, for, right now,

I am foolishly, most indubitably, a mess. 

* Proverbs 3:5
** 1 Corinthians 3:19

Written on September 6, 2018.