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
3 comments:
"BEing tender is NOT silly. It’s actually BEing real."
Yes, yes, yes!
Thank you, Currie.
You can't get any more real than being tender, loving, and vulnerable. ;) I'm glad the chaplain is a safe place for you!!! :):)
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 :)
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