Reflections from the River

Oftentimes I think people may wonder why I don’t hate God. Why when I’ve experienced so much pain and loss in almost 36 years, and why ESPECIALLY this last year, that I have found that my relationship with Him is stronger than ever before. The simple answer is that the bad things that have happened to me and those I love are not His fault, and that I have come to the realization that every blessing is straight from Him. I question things, I grieve the losses, and I do get angry with God. But I think the fact that I can get angry shows the strength of our relationship.

Recently a dear relative who was also one of my best friends died. During a conversation last year I was asking him all sorts of questions, and he answered each one with “because He loves us.” And He does. Despite all the terrible things that may happen to us, or even the things we may cause to happen because of an especially stupid decision we make, His love for us never changes. How awesome is that? ❤️

In the last year, I have perfected a gratitude practice I first began at the job before I became so ill last December. At that job I made it a point to seek out three things I was grateful for every day, or to just make it a point to find that joy in someone else. Between God and I, we found gratitude and joy daily in that job where it would have otherwise been hard to find some days. Most things in life are that way.

This year has been a rollercoaster for most of us. Personally speaking, it has been horrific to joyous and everything in between for me. I lost a great deal of my physicality this year, friends, privacy to an extent, a beloved family member to COVID, and have relocated to a different state to obtain the care i need to stay alive….surprising to some I’m sure is that that is the short list! I also became myself this year. I have honed and perfected my scrappiness, can be vibrantly Catholic, have no secrets, have lost the ability to be dishonest, and have developed the ability to find joy and gratitude daily amidst what is sometimes a LOT of suffering physically.

I don’t know why things happen that aren’t awesome, even horrific. But to paraphrase a Mother Angelica quote, it’s the matter that we accept our suffering that makes us holy. It was tough for Him too! There are always moments of gratitude and joy that can be found daily. We just have to hunt for them and to realize that this life is a grain of sand compared to eternity with God. And also that joyous and grateful moments 9 times out of 10 come straight down the pipe from Him.

I wonder sometimes what life will be like after a vaccine for COVID-19 is distributed world wide. I don’t think I’m alone in that either. We have seen, particularly here in the United States, the best and the worst of each other since the outbreak. There has been the always stellar “but my rights! My rights!” argument (which really isn’t one at all) on repeat regarding wearing a piece of fabric on your face in public. Our Congress can’t seem to pass more than one relief package so folks can maintain their basic needs which is truly deplorable. And our healthcare workers do not always have the tools they need to combat a virus that takes no prisoners. There has been an extreme lack of kindness and understanding while we all cope with a myriad of unknowns , and we still adore celebrities and the almighty dollar more than Jesus.

Personally speaking, I stopped putting my faith in the things of this Earth completely this year. My priest said that’s a theory of St Ignatius, so super. He was a cool dude. But wouldn’t human beings of this weird planet be better off doing the same? We don’t take possessions to Heaven when we meet our maker, and instead of acting like we do not see satan walking around stirring the pot right now, and claiming to be Christian-we behaved as such. My hope and prayer for a post COVID 19 world is that we show the love that is showered down on us so freely from Heaven to each other and mean it. We really aren’t that different, and we are all children of God.

The last time my mom came for a visit, as she was taking a load of her stuff to her vehicle, she noticed and alerted me to a steadily increasing amount of ducks. We first noticed them as we were coming back from Mass, and then there were suddenly tons of them outside as she got ready to make the trip home. A man in the building next door told her they’d come to guard and mourn a duckling that a car had run over. It was quite a sight to behold. A little while later a man from a house across the street came to shoo them away. I mourned right along with those ducks that day. Animals are smarter than we give them credit for, and we could learn a thing or two from their sense of community.

I’d noticed this mama duck a lot since I moved to this neighborhood almost two months ago. Particularly that she had a LOT of babies. Since her baby died, that mama duck has split up her babies to protect them. I first noticed when taking my dog for a walk the next morning. I get up super early, and there that mama duck was in the middle of a side street just as the sun was coming up. I saw she and half the babies walking, and when a car went past too quickly and not even coming near her, those babies went underneath her until it past. Then she kept walking, and I couldn’t tell because my left eye is damaged to a degree, but I think she was giving me the side eye. My dog sniffed under a bush weeks prior and out she came wings flapping, so our relationship has been shaky ever since. 😂

We forget people have feelings a lot of the time too. I’ve been guilty of being unkind and shooing someone away a time or two in my life. Sort of like that man did from across the street with those ducks in mourning. Wouldn’t the world be a better place, though, if we sheltered others from the storms life threw at them? Or were so selfless like that mama duck was when she split her babies up that we helped someone who needed it, uttered a kind word, respected someone’s views that were different then our own, or covered our face with a piece of fabric.

As this hurricane comes closer to the state I live in, my head kind of feels like it’s own weather channel. It has for days really-Buzzing and pounding, but I’m getting used to it. I spent most of my growing up years not far from the east coast. Memories of that time escape me most days, and I didn’t live this near water. I just remember the headaches, some good stuff here and there, and the continuous reminder by my peers that I was different. But, all that aside, I wish this hurricane Eta would determine an eta, and get it over with. But even in my discomfort lately, I have found that I’m peaceful.

I have learned the hard way over the last year in particular that all anyone can do this side of Heaven is to keep trying when the road gets tough. It is an extreme myth that the great determinant of a life well lived is if it has been free of every type of pain. Peace is also important, and these days I find that I am fiercely protective of the peace I have now. A lot of the reason for that is that I am medically fragile, but the rest is because life is too short to hate what you’re doing, to be made miserable by who is around you, or just to be miserable period. I find myself appreciative these days of absolutely everything. Even the bad stuff because it teaches me to practice saying no in order to avoid a disruption of my peace. I’m learning appropriate emotions everyday, and how to live life authentically in this new body.

When I was watching the president elect’s address last night, he spoke of good angels. That, among other things, struck a cord with me. I’m so thankful for the good angels that watch over me and for a God that fills me with peace. Also for a life that has almost been cut short time and time again, and that He gives me the wherewithal to fight to keep living it.

My father died halfway through my senior year of high school, and I remember going through the second half of that year on autopilot. Thinking, if I can just get this last bit of high school over with, graduate, and go to college maybe that will fill up this gaping hole in my life. I was so desperate to go off to school anyway, but even more so after his death. I have tried to fill the hole of my sweet Daddy through the years. But you can’t escape the loss of a parent when you’re THAT young by filling it with things that really don’t matter. As I’ve gone through the medical things that I have for the past 10 months, and a horrific experience nine months ago tomorrow, the memories of him that were once so easily accessible haven’t been as easily accessed. That is, until recently. Now, when I close my eyes and sit in the beautiful silence of this new apartment, I can hear his voice or think of a silly memory. What a special gift.

My Daddy was larger than life in every way a person can be, and this December will mark 18 years since his passing. I’ve lived a lot of life in the years since he left his Earthly home for his Heavenly one, but I’d like to think that the hard living is done and I can just be who God wants me to be now. Hopefully that person will make that silly angel in Heaven with the crooked halo and Hawaiian shirt proud. ❤️

I use ride shares to get around now, and have for many months. In the couple of months since I’ve last written, I don’t use them nearly as often because I’ve moved , but occasionally I do. I don’t usually get anyone rude or weird. Sometimes I’ll get a silent person that gives off a leave me alone vibe, and a large portion of the time I will get a Spanish speaking person. Those are my favorite ones to get. Not because my Spanish is that great, although it can be when my brain lets me access all the Spanish stored in there, but because I know what it is like to not be able to communicate. I am an American and speak English, but what I mean is i know what it’s like for the words that I want to say come out in a jumbled mess…or not at all. I know what it’s like to not be able to speak to others, and so I relate to these gentleman in a round about way, get out my translator app, and try. Then of course they get really excited and start speaking REALLY FAST. They’ve missed talking! But I think they appreciate someone making the effort. Someone not thinking you’re in America so you need to learn English! 🤦🏼‍♀️They do try to speak and most of them are actively trying to learn a language that is tremendously difficult to learn because they’re humans that want to communicate with others. We need to open our hearts to others and throw preconceived notions and prejudices out the window. How can we ever expect things to get better in America if we don’t extend grace to each other and especially to those that need it the most?

Many years ago, I first heard someone say that they were homesick for Heaven. I had had no idea what she meant at the time. She was a happily married pregnant person. Everything at that point that I knew even then wasn’t in the cards for me. She never explained and I never asked, but I have wondered what she meant through the years. I suppose different people can view the meaning of such a phrase differently. Here is my take.

I will most likely never have an abundance of money, or power, or fame of any sort. I will be known to the people in my immediate circle. A circle that is decidedly larger than what I thought, but my immediate circle just the same. I will be noticeably physically handicapped for a long while. Maybe always. Live in apartments perhaps. I will have a dog, and treat it like the prized possession that all dogs are for the rest of my life. I will appreciate everything indefinitely. Every interaction good and bad, and every breath I take. Every emotion that I feel. I will keep most things to myself except with those that matter, love a good meme, detest watching tv, and be brutally honest. I will live life now, fully and authentically, but oh how I will be homesick for Heaven. Not just because my father is there, and his mama, and my mother’s parents, etc. and so on. But because people do not hate each other there, or prioritize nonsense. I imagine I will feel there like I do at Mass. I will be most myself and sit at the feet of Jesus. My yes, I am certainly homesick for that. In the meantime, I will appreciate the here and now, and make sure that’s where I end up. ❤️

May you find your voice and may it be heard. Amen

When I began to be incredibly ill in December of last year, I remember thinking if I could make it to Saturday and submit a prayer request to this Facebook group I’m a part of, then maybe I could live through another week. Someone responded to one request with that simple prayer that you first read. All my life I have felt that my impact was small. I have silently survived and made do for as long as I can remember. But people began to notice my rapid neurological decline. They wondered what I was doing and why. There were multiple trips to hospital ERs, balls were dropped, and I realized that I would have to rehab myself again. Being sent home with a brochure was a poignant moment of the pre new location journey.

Then I began to speak again. It didn’t make much sense, I was still so ill, but I had a voice.

Going to Mass was an integral part of my survival at the beginning of this journey, and continues to be to this day. Normally, I am very foggy by the end of the day since I cannot go to Mass as much. It is also difficult walking and dragging my body around as it is now. But after I receive Communion weekly I find that I am alert and cognitively very much myself. Physically, I’m not sure where I will end up, but my brain is awesome. It will heal as my face already has.

I don’t pretend to know why things happen. God is the ultimate authority figure, and I’m skeptical of know it alls and those who claim to know as He does. All I know is that His goodness and mercy in my life is so vast and surpasses my understanding.

I suppose staring death in the face all those months is what makes me bold. It makes me unafraid to speak for the first time in many years now that my voice has been found and is heard.

Thanks Be to God.