I don't deserve this

   

Last June, John and I flew into the Albany, N.Y. airport for a visit to our beloved Catskills. A kindness happened as we deplaned and I heard the Spirit whisper :"why not keep track of those you see on this trip ?" That was the beginning. Now if I pick up my pen to journal, kindnesses jump in my lap like warm kittens and demand to be written about first. It's a habit.

 In a previous story I ranted about a person that did the wrong thing, for me at least. Here are some of those times when the exact right thing was done. Most know who they are.

...Two days after John passed, my family and I went to evening Mass. One dear lady crossed the church, knelt in the pew in front of me and said: "No words just I love you." We put our heads together and wept.

...the staff at our dentist office. They loved John. A lovely card, two calls from the receptionist. And when the office closed, they made sure we are Facebook friends so we can stay connected. The person who called went with the dentist to the new office and having her there when I have to go, heartens me.

...One of the friends in our writing group has left more than one creative package on my porch. She made a journal for my trip to Australia, a fruit cake and candle for Christmas. And for a year she has given me an open invitation. As I type this I realize it has taken me a whole year to accept. We have a date on Jan 11 for lunch and antiquing. What price for that friendship ? 

...John did the bills and although organized I had no idea the system. I needed folders and this angel dropped her life and got folders, labels and would take no payment. Just left them with me with a smile. She also took care of my plants when I went to Australia. She is appalled that I don't talk to them, she spoiled them all. They miss her. I throw her a kiss every Sunday at Mass and we smile. She has my back.

These are the ones like the kittens that insisted to be written today. There are so many more that I will write about. This is what the beatitude means that "they that mourn will be comforted." You will be comforted in ways you could never conceive because the hole is so deep and people, so kind.

And finally to John O'Donohue, the Irish poet and writer whose words I was given before John passed because there is no time and God knew that I would need to know this:

"We cannot see the dead, but because we cannot see them does not mean that they are not there...transfigured in an eternal form. In their new transfigured presence their compassion, understanding and love take on divine depth, enabling them to became secret angels, guiding and sheltering the unfolding of our destiny." 

I have lived to know the truth of this.

We will meet one day and I will thank John O in person where all things are perfect and the only language spoken is love.