Sometimes, Don't You Just Feel Like Dancing?

 

DANCING FLOWERS

 

 

One summer day, I found these delicate, little flowers just swaying with the gentle breese.  What inspiration!  Be happy; enjoy the here and now.  The overused phrase, grow where you are planted, had new meaning to me.

 

Now, everytime I look at this paining, I smile.  It helps me to remember the times I danced.  I was never good at dancing.  I just enjoyed it.  Pure abandonment to gentle beats.  I loved to dance with my husband.  We even took dancing lessions for a year!  What joy!



RENEWAL

Living with a slowly-deteriorating, chronic illness requires me to reassess everything I do. All the time, I need to make sure that I am not operating under the wrong assumptions. For those of you who have not had this experience, it is difficult to fathom the process. One day I can open a container of yogurt, the next day, I cannot. Then, suddenly, a week later, I can again. Over time, the "I cannot days" out number the "I can days." Over time, the "I can days" might stop entirely.

It can be quite maddening - plans need to be conditional. Without notice, I rearrange my schedule to accommodate my body's demands. I have started to say, "If I feel up to it, I would like to . . .". Everyday, the counting of energy expended on any activity of daily living needs to be assessed. "Is it a good day for a shower? What else must I accomplish today?" I must find a way through the uncharted territory of my new life.

So the process begins: my new life is defined.

A MOTHER'S LOVE

Mother's Love

 

Originally, this painting erupted from me when a friend's two year old grandson passed away suddenly.  As a mother, I have felt the fear of the "what if . . ."  At times, that overwhelming, soul-searing fear still creeps in:  what would I do, how could I cope?

 

 

Now, my sisters and I are starting to face the reality of the loss of our mother.  The other end of the spectrum.  My mother's health and mind are failing.  She knows, too.  But, she forgets.  Recently, she told the primary care sister that she was ready to "walk with the angels."

 

This sister: the primary care provider has been and is doing an excellent job.  She has been devoted to my mom.  Providing the physical?  Yes. More importantly, she has showered my mother with emotional support.  Taking her out for boat rides in the pleasant weather.  Dining with her almost every evening.  Spending afternoons - just talking and laughing.

 

Showing love - a mother's love - in reverse.

THE GIFT

My friend - she reaches out to me, smiling.  For more than 30 years, her arms have always been there.  She hugs me, offers me a cup of comfort.  Always, saying, "I love you."

What did I do to have such a rich reward?  Nothing.  Unmerited grace.

What does she expect in return?  Nothing.  Unconditional love.

The Gift - of herself.

 

My Heart Aches for Julie

HEARTBREAK

 

A little over two years ago, Julie passed away from a brain tumor.  Even though she was only 25 years old, she understood.  See, she was originally diagnosed with the tumor when she was 4 years old.  Through medical breakthroughs, the tumor was reduced to a small lump in her brain.  Even though it left her with some paralysis, she lived an abundant life.

 

Then, in her early 20s the tumor began its deadly march through her brain.  The doctors told her that she only had a short time to live - 11 months.  Instead, for 2 1/2 years she battled the tumor and its effects:  more paralysis - more physical challenges.  She battled the other effects of living with a chronic disease - discouragement, frustration, fatigue.  Julie was not a saint, but she was courageous and happy and loving.  Through it all, she understood.  Life is a gift.

 

She is a saint, now.