Friday, March 27, 2015

27 March 2015

As Sidda joined Vivi in staring out into the darkness of the fields, where hundreds of sunflowers grew, she thought: I will never fully know my mother, any more than I will ever know my father or Connor, or myself. I have been missing the point. The point is not knowing another person, or learning to love another person. The point is simply this: how tender can we bear to be? What good manners can we show as we welcome ourselves and others into our hearts?   [Rebecca Wells, Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood]

Tenderness is such a quiet thing. It often catches me by surprise. The feeling comes like waking from a deep deep sleep. It washes away the mud and the muck through which I so long saw Life and the people in it.

The matter of good manners has never quite rung true for me. I don’t know if that would make sense to anyone else, but at least I understand.

Yesterday I had yet another amazing visit with the chaplain from hospice. With him I am fearless. I will go where I’ve dared NOT go, all the while knowing I am safe. And never, really EVER, have I been alone.

I’ve missed the point, too. BEing tender is NOT silly. It’s actually BEing real.

I love you, Currie


drew said...

"BEing tender is NOT silly. It’s actually BEing real."

Yes, yes, yes!

Thank you, Currie.

Rita said...

You can't get any more real than being tender, loving, and vulnerable. ;) I'm glad the chaplain is a safe place for you!!! :):)

Carol said...

So happy that you are finding comfort with the chaplain. Tenderness is a comfort all of itself. Somehow I missed this earlier but it's here now ♥ Sending you LOVE & STRENGTH & HEALING OF SPIRIT. ALL WRAPPED UP IN A GREAT BIG CYBER HUG :)