A few days ago I went to a funeral. A funeral for a man I have never met. I went to show support and love to a beautiful woman. My friend.
As I sat and listened to this man's son speak about his father I started to ponder some things. Things I've been thinking about. A lot. I didn't know this man but we had something in common. A spirit that was wild and crazy and full of energy and a body that doesn't want to cooperate. A body that has health problems. A body that is far too young to have health problems! He passed away at the young age of 55.....
Never have I felt separation of body and spirit as I have the last couple of years and for some reason, this winter has been particularly hard. I don't want to keep doing this. I want the West Nile to be gone. In the past. Wave a magic wand and yell out some, "Harry Potter" spell and magically end up on the back of some dragon flying through the air, wind whipping through my hair, breath coming out in exhilarating gasps.
This man's son spoke about how his father is no longer held back by the bindings of health that held him back in this part of his life's journey. From the sounds of it, it doesn't sound like he let his health hold him back much while he was here on earth.....
On Saturday evening I was preparing a lesson to teach the girls age 14-15 on Sunday. As I was studying the lesson I was to give, I read a story about a mother who had terminal cancer. Right before she passed away, her husband arranged it so that their little family of two little girls, herself, and her husband could have a picnic out on the lawns of the hospital. Later that day, she wrote in her journal about how she used to think that if you had your health, you had everything. She realized that she didn't have her health but that she did have everything. She had this beautiful little family and that would continue all through eternity. The material things of this world she would leave behind but she would always have her family through out eternity.
I thought a lot about that. Many times I have sat here like a lump on the couch and wondered what my purpose was since I'm not fulfilling the typical "Mom" criteria. All of those job descriptions that you put under the title "Mom". Not happening. Dead weight.
I thought about my mum and would I rather a lump on the couch or no mum. No question. I'd rather the lump. Coming home from school, just knowing a lump would be there is a whole lot better in my mind than coming home to no mum.
It got me to thinking The Native's probably feel the same way. It's hard on them. Not just me. It's really hard on The SM and all he has on his plate.
I'm still trying to sort and work this through in my mind. Coming to peace with where I am at right now. Me signing up for a 1/2 marathon is proof I'm still fighting. It's a work in progress. But I'm making progress and that is what counts right?
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ReplyDeleteI LOVED that lesson. I would most definately like to come home to a lump instead of none :)
ReplyDeleteI love your kindness and enthusiasm and openness and willingness. :D
DeleteI'm trying not to........ but I can't seem to help it!! :D As you say, "How in the world do I know what I CAN do unless I keep pushing"?
ReplyDeleteYup! I hear ya. I'm glad I'm not the only one still trying to figure things out.
I have no serious ongoing health concerns, but there have been serious scares in the past. Scares and long recoveries that left me being a lump on the couch for weeks upon weeks. I always chose to be a couch lump, rather than a bed lump, because I wanted be in the midst of the family action. The family energy. To still be a mom, even if only a lumpish one, vaguely present. The kids would come and go from my side, chattering things I could not follow. Pile toys on me. Or climb up on me. Fight on me. And what is my point here? I don't know. But I think that you're being a lump ON THE COUCH also demonstrates that you are still fighting. And fighting well by the sounds of it, gaining ground. *Life* is a marathon, and you're signed up all right.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you wrote this Wabi. I'd not looked at it this way. You wrote this because I needed to hear it. A positive perspective in my lumpy world. :)
DeleteLife is a marathon and I did sign up for it. All of it! I have to remember that too. You're a good friend Wabi!
It's great to be fighting, as long as fighting isn't a symptom of being angry with where you are--but we always want to grow, to change, to improve ourselves. As great as you are now--that's a pretty tall order, my dear!
ReplyDeleteI think that is part of the struggle. Not angry necessarily but not accepting. No, that's not true. Angry sometimes. Angry and frustrated which isn't good as you say which is why the fight for inner peace and acceptance so that I CAN learn and grow. Right now I'm stunting my growth from banging my head against the wall. :)
DeleteI've so much room for growth and improvement. I'm grateful for family like you who help me along the way.
Rachel took down my comment because I said rude things to her. :0P
ReplyDeleteAnd there you go again being rude by sticking out your tongue!!!
DeleteYou put into words exactly what my boyfriend used to say to me. He would get so depressed and say things like "I'm just sitting here doing nothing." Then go out and plant a bunch of flowers and be back in bed for another week. He WAS a lump on the couch but he was MY lump on the couch and I loved him for it!
ReplyDeleteKeep on lumping if you need to Rach.
Love you,
Tami
I needed to hear this Tami. Thank you! I love you too!!!
Deletei went too and was so impressed that there were more people in the chapel for his funeral than at church on Sunday!
ReplyDeleteA man who has touched many lives.......... the number of people there spoke volumes about his life.
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