the amazing tale of an English journal

 

 It started with an order from my beloved niece to a woman in England who hand makes journals and sells them on line. I will quote Teresa, the purchaser:

"It was something I purchased for myself, a treat to encourage self care, a budding renewal of my art, watercolor painting. I found it online through that amazing phenomenon of following links, people, artists.

When I saw the hand bound and handmade watercolor paper journal with two birds wrapped with a length of leather, I loved it, it was perfect. And having always loved birds, it seemed just right. A special self care treat. So happily I purchased this one of a kind journal.

When it  finally arrived from England, I opened it with great anticipation, the treasure I'd picked out for myself. Wrapped in a stunning box, with lavender sprigs and in a muslin bag with a hand drawn card, I reverently took it out. And then I heard it.. the voice...

'That's not for you, you know.' Trying to ignore what I had a creeping feeling was going to be another familiar message from "beyond", I tried to dismiss the thought, of course it was for me! I bought it myself "

But.... I knew who it was for before I heard:' that's for TT bird.'

The familiar voice and message was not for me but came through me and I tried hard to send it away.! I tried! But every time I looked at it, I knew. It's for TT bird."

 John had always called me TT bird (sweetie bird) and I had no idea what "the two will become one" meant until he left us. All the decisions made by two, all the hard times borne by two. And then there is just one. The one legged ladder about to fall over. But I know this:  the two as one goes on , it does not ever end : the caring, the helps, it is all there in a different way and I for one fall to my knees in gratitude. 

shoes of a pilgrim

 

Several months ago, I had put all of John's shoes in a bucket, ready for my kind son to take to Goodwill. I could let go of these surely, they are just shoes. As I picked the bucket up, I started to weep and my son said: "Mom, you don't have to get rid of anything, ever." All the shoes are still there. 

 This picture last appeared in my Camino story. I told of how I can actually read about the Camino with pleasure in the remembering now. Then I looked closely at the picture and noticed the grey jacket on John's backpack. I have been wearing that daily and it has kept me warm all over. That jacket. But what about the shoes. I wore hiking boots, what did he have on? And in the cache of shoes, I found the exact shoes from the picture. The obsession continues, the title being "looking for John".

I have a small prayer corner that I go to each morning. It's where we meet : John, Christ and I. Our shiny wooden hiking sticks, one John made, are there, wood pieces from a beloved maple taken down from the house in the Catskills, our Camino shells, sunflowers, the prayer of surrender of St. Charles de Foucauld, a treasured carved bowl made by Australian aboriginals, and a prayer card of St. James. I go to that corner gratefully as it is my sanctuary.

And now, a new item, the scuffed up, worn hiking shoes that I didn't let go those months ago. Call me mad, it's O.K. I know what comforts me. 

 

Afraid of many things

  

 What do you fear?

 In this hard last year I have been afraid of many things: music, the interstate, riding home in the dark, and anything that might trigger a memory. So when a friend asked if I would like to see a movie about the Camino, the holy 500 mile pilgrim way in Spain, my first thought was "no." What if I sit in the theater weeping like a bathtub overflowing reliving the time in 2013 when John and I did the Camino? 

  Instead, I put on my big girl pants, went and enjoyed a movie that was very inspiring and that didn't break my heart. I am getting there.

I am reading a well done book about another pilgrim and laughing at how similar his journey was to ours. The pain, the joys, the adventure of it all. And now I am rereading my journal notes and reliving the time with pleasure.

...the scene in the Pamplona square where a drunken Russian youth almost landed in John's lap.

...at Mass in that city where my mind kept being flooded with these words: "Jesus is Lord, Jesus is Lord" and then in the homily in Spanish which I don't speak, I heard this: "Jeus es Dio."

...a pilgrimage takes you out of what is usual, the things that cosset and contain your life...a hill looms, a crushing descent, your eyes weep often without your permission.

...writing on a wonderful shady bench on the patio of a church,,,bells peel, roses surround, cobblestones...a respite.

...a picture of John pushing a wheelbarrow filled with cabbage up a steep hill for a older resident of the town..

  I am so glad my son made me take a camera, my friend invited me to the movie, my beloved said yes to the walk and I kept a journal.

I will end with the title of the book : "To the Field of Stars" by Kevin A. Codd

...and this prayer given by some nuns after Mass in Pamplona :" May Your protective shadow cover them during the day, and may the light of your grace enlighten them at night, may your pilgrims finish happily the road to Santiago. " A prayer for any of us as we walk each other other Home.

 

they've got their father's heart

 

Journal Notes 10-02-21

Kindnesses:

...an e-mail from Antionette thanking me for doing the writing group.

....John bought lunch for a lady waiting to get her car fixed.

...John picked up a man as he was walking from Kroger and drove him home.

...John brought a strawberry shake home as a  surprise for me.

My very insightful niece had written  to me on December 22nd of this year :'"the sacred cord connecting you is taut. Evidence that you are he and he is you is in your beautiful children that you created together."

 As with so many things in this hard year I gained clarity only with time. It came to me yesterday, the truth of that statement. I will give some anonymous examples because my children are like their Dad; they turn away from praise.

..a young teen visiting a wealthy man's home . He was offered an ATV to lark about on and as soon as he saw Hispanic kids his age picking grapes in the heat he couldn't do it...

...a couple walking in Las Vegas'. The man saw a homeless man half asleep on a cardboard pallet: money given and then gently the poor man was told that he mattered.

...a man is driving down a busy street when he sees a woman with three small children walking hurriedly along. He offers a ride, drops the kids where they are going, takes the Mom to a motel where she lives. Soon he is trying to find a way to get her a car.

...an adult child who doesn't leave you alone for three months; takes you to church, the movies, out to eat and teaches you how to pump gas. Drives you to the dentist when a tooth is screaming and makes sure you get home from Australia by yourself. 

...a young man, after Katrina hit the South, heads, with his truck loaded with dog and cat food, to Mississippi where he drives around trailer parks knocking on doors, seeing what people need.

 John had an employee at his restaurant who called once a year after we retired to invite him to an AA meeting for the anniversary of his sobriety. John went every year, where he was praised for the help he gave to R. At the gravesite a year ago he was the only one who was able to speak and he was wonderful, eloquent and grateful. This year all three of my Georgia children attended the anniversary for R in their Dad's place.

Yes, his heart beats in them. 

I do not want my life to be only about grief ...

 

I do not want my life to be only about grief. But it seems Facebook knows about my situation and so things pop up all the time. I have learned to skip over them but today a poem jarred loose another story that I must tell. 

The poem started this way:

"How do I live without you? Oh, my love, I do not. "

And that has been my experience. 

On December 22 of this past year I received a message from my dear niece who thinks of me so often. I can tell. She wrote: "your love for him and he for you is stronger than ever.. the sacred chord that connects you is taut...you are him and he is you...keep loving your dear man-he feels it and is longing for the day you can be together again...remember that time is not a thing where he is..it's O.K. to love someone with all your heart...it's the most beautiful blessing that you have..".

Such odd but tender words. The writer said the words came through her. Later that day I was looking for something in the closet and on a shelf is my box of cards; John's contributions in a bag on the top. On a whim or maybe one of those nudges, I took the top one out and smiled at the old folks perched on a log. I opened and read where he signed this:

07-25-07

"We are one. 

Love you, John."

The poem ends this way:

"You walked such a blazing pathway, when your feet were on this earth, that your imprint lingers on and I place my own feet in your steps, one by one.  

How do I live without you?

It's really simple, I do not." Donna Ashworth.

And in this grace filled time, on this very blessed earth, I am finding that that is O.K.

being a fairy wren

 

  I like wrens. They have been neighbors for decades on the Graham plantation. For thirty years, in the winter, one or even two will perch on a small ledge by our front door and sleep through the night. How did the first one find the ledge and did he instruct all those who followed of its safety? They only live about eight years so the mystery persists. John swore that they must have had chats. I don't know but I love to see their little feathered bodies all curled up in plain sight.

 But there are wrens and then there are wrens. Once you see an Australian fairy wren you are spoiled forever. 

My beautiful Australian daughter-in-law gave me that colorful journal you see. Above the print is a fairy wren. All the other gorgeous birds are from her home country. Some of the questions on each page are : what was the best thing about yesterday and what are you grateful for today, what are your priorities ? 

When the sun hits the fairy wren you know what a gift this bird is as it flits in your yard. Like a rare jewel has fallen from the sky. You have to smile.  And I bet you're thinking where is this going.

Years ago, while in prayer, I was asked to be Christ to someone once a day. Why I forgot that I don't know but instead of resolutions like eat more raw veggies and avoid carbs I am going to finally heed that call. Being Christ seems daunting although I get it but what about being a fairy wren to someone each day. This all seems lighter, brighter to me somehow. I look forward to it.

 When I tell the welcome lady at Wal Mart that I love her, maybe I have dropped a jewel into her apron. A simple thing. Of these things the Kingdom is made. 

when your friend tells you the truth

 

  It will get pretty ordinary here but bear with me. I have had the flu/cold/covid, who knows, since 12-26. Slight fever, terrible nose products, slight sore throat and last night, I coughed my left lung into my palm. Not really.

 A friend advised that I get some Mucinex to get the gunk out of my lungs. I knew that needed to be done. Then I thought, easy for you to say, healthy friend. I have been a princess taken care of for 57 years .I haven't left the house since Monday, I have little gas in my car,  my hair is dirty. BWAAAAAA. I CAN'T do it!!! I thought of friends, tried several delivery options, no go. BWAAAAA. I knew this friend was watching me on line so I found some big girl pants and they actually sold it to me out of the pharmacy drive up thanks to the clerk, Jessica, who made it happen. I told her I loved her on the phone. Do you  think she will appear in my kindness journal?

But here is the miracle, why write if not. As I was grumpily driving to CVS, my Friend took over my thinking. I can describe it no other way.

This is what I heard:

"At this time it appears you are weak and vulnerable but I don't want to think of yourself that way. You are My child . This is what I see:

...a youth wo grew up poor getting a Regents scholarship in a house filled with chaos. Determined to get a college degree.

--- a young lady graduating with a degree despite the chaos and a Father twice housed in a mental institution....

...despite growing up with alcoholic parents, and many relatives the same, through determination and My grace, you have never succumbed.

...who lost her fist child to miscarriage and endured the fear and sadness of that hospital trip.  

...a woman who at 70 years hiked 175 miles of the Camino in Spain.

...and after that started a writing group with no experience, just some ideas. That group has been a healing for many.

...a woman who has endured her greatest fear and not become bitter.

  I have left many out for brevity but share these. If you think I am bragging I am not doing a good enough job writing this story.(But did I tell you about the 11 and a half pound baby I had naturally?.)What I wrote has little to do with me and more with the Friend, the Lord, who has had my hand every step of the way.

As the words came flooding in I knew what was happening. Today was a test for me. I think I was given at least a year to live in fear and trembling as it is part of the process.(I am not the only one who breaks down in Kroger I am told.).But now it's time to remember who I am. I may fail, who knows, but what a profound gift to be hearing how I am seen by the One who loves us so.

"He is Kind, He is patient, slow to anger and rich in mercy."