Mar 12, 2023

Living in Unconditional Love (105)

 

“Love flows from God to humans without effort:

As a bird glides through the air without moving its wings-

Thus, they go wherever they wish united in body and soul,

Yet separate in form.”

–Mechtild of Magdeburg

 

My wife Eileen died from esophageal cancer in February 2020 one year after being diagnosed, 60 years to the day that we met on Long Island. Then my brother Tom became ill (not COVID), and I spent a total of six weeks being with him in Ohio, but he died in October 2020. My sister-in-law Sue Mahoney died from Covid-19 in January 2021. On top of it all stood the pandemic, locking everyone down almost two years, and even though it is abating, I wear my mask anytime I am out among people, unlike most.

03/12/2023                                      We are in the end phase of another snowstorm that deposited about six inches. Hopefully the snowplow will be here before too long and I will be able to get to church in the morning, but one is never sure (It did not come until 10:30 Sunday morning.). The Winter Aconite is once again buried under snow and the prediction is for another storm in a week. As usual. These storms seem to set up a weekly schedule that they follow for a few weeks at a time.

There will be the annual time shift this weekend, and I try starting on Saturday so that my Sunday rising won’t seem too bad to go to the 8:30 Mass. I know that I always see articles about how bad the time change is, but I still do not understand their reasoning on that, at least where I live. Even at the height of the summer solstice it is pitch dark at ten in the evening, and few go to bed before that time. Since I don’t watch television, I generally follow my senses, going to bed before eleven or when I am tired. I find that I wake up after 8-9 hours, though often with a nighttime waking period, and I generally rise in the morning when I feel like it. Tonight (Saturday), I will go to bed with the new time as I set the clocks forward this morning.

It is painful to watch my old parish in Homer disintegrate into just another gathering. The phone calls and messages from friends are hard. I am fortunate that I could come back to a parish close to my home where the outreach programs give a reason to say that we are followers of Jesus, attempting to meet the needs of the community in where they live, with food and clothing, and a generally friendly demeanor overall, even though it doesn’t match anything like St. Margaret’s did when it was operating at its best. Only a few have welcomed me back and the opportunity to chat after Mass is limited to a few that I already know. I find that the small community that meets for and after the communion service on Thursday is much more willing to share thoughts and feelings. What is missing is the coffee hours that Eileen and I ran many years ago, but the religious education program is right after Sunday mass and so it is difficult to find the time.

I find life sliding by with little interruptions along the way. There always seems to be at least one doctor appointment each week (this week it was my annual visit with the sleep doctor so that the insurance keeps paying for the CPAP supplies.) Then my blood pressure keeps climbing so we keep adjusting medicines to try to keep some semblance of control. But I feel good, have physical therapy for my knee twice a week, paint and build models while chatting with God along the way. I have found that the silence of the house, broken only by the sounds of the heating system, is restful and calming. I listen to books often when I am painting or eating or building, but that is the only sound most of the time.

I find myself often just sitting, listening for Eileen, and hearing the gentle sounds of the universe. Even the birds are quiet, grabbing food from the feeder, especially when it snows. I apparently had quite a bit of oil in the underground tank, as I am still using that oil and have not started on the new 500-gallon tank I have waiting. I will have to have the feed lines switched when that occurs, but not yet. So, the world is still and beautiful, that period of ‘sad joy’ that is part of this phase of life. No serious calamities, no serious health problems, just life moving on. It is hard to believe I will be 89 on Easter Sunday, but time doesn’t stop just because I find it astounding.

Meditation

 

Gentle One, I continue to rest in You each day. I find Your peace to move forward and place my trust in You for the next step in life. I miss my partner in life, but I find wonder and joy in life despite that missing portion. I feel I can talk with her any time I want, and I find that I am thankful for the period of togetherness that is often present.