Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My daughter has begun her chemo today and we hope for the best.  Her best friend is with her for support, and we await news of whether she will be able to come here for Christmas or I will go up there.  In the meantime I've received an outpouring of love and prayers, and feel fully supported.  I cry frequently, but also am attempting to enjoy each moment as it comes, and engage with the people (mainly grandkids) I'm spending time with.  Life is precious, and each moment is a snowflake unique and beautiful, and all are equal.  I'm trying not to add on to my sadness by attachment or aversion, which is suffering I inflict upon myself.  This is not about me.  My daughter is being brave and fully herself while she experiences horrible pain, and her situation reminds me of the Brad Pitt zombie movie where he tells the young female Israeli soldier to "gut up".  My daughter has been gutting up for six years, and is a fierce warrior.  Bless her and I'm still hoping for her to be saved. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My daughter has had some bad news, and we are all concerned for her health and treatment.  We are rallying around her, and I will shortly go to stay with her and help out.  It's a shock and upsetting, but I am holding on to "Don't Know" and one day at a time.  Many are praying for her, and her courage and nobility are shining through.  She's a fighter and fierce, in the best sense of the word.  I love her and my heart beats with hers no matter if we're together or apart.  I hope she responds well to the new treatment and can continue her life of writing, parenting, being with friends and family. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I got home from a day with my fussy baby grandson to make dinner, put ornaments on the tree and address Christmas cards.  What a day!  I have to do enough this week that I can concentrate on the holiday party my son and I are having next week.  Crazy, but in a good way.  Keeping a seven month old from a Christmas tree is quite challenging, I have discovered.  Luckily, he's distractible.  Almost anything intrigues him.  Today my bookmark riveted him, until he stuffed it in his mouth and I had to pry his jaws open to remove the soggy mess.  Risky business, as he has four teeth now.  Both his parents are sick, so this week is challenging.  I try to help, but today I couldn't take over for my son, who had promised to babysit for my daughter and her husband, because I'm already babysitting the three year old Thursday night, and I'm stretched beyond my limits.  The holidays have that elastic quality to them, but at my age, the pliability is not so great.  Ah, well.  One day at a time.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I went with a friend to see the film "Waves" last night.  It is extraordinary!  Visually it's stunning, the acting is amazing, and the story fresh and profound.  It transcends race and class, even though it's centered on a black middle class family.  I was sucked in from the beginning, and really cared about these people.  They were flawed but sympathetic, and so deeply human.  I saw my own confusion as a teenager and as a parent.  I was left shattered in a good way.  It's not an easy film to see, but it's an important film to see. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

This is shaping up to be an Edgar Allen Poe kind of day, with wind, dark skies, and drizzle.  I'm hoping my grandson will be here later.  He's been sick and his parents have stayed home with him.  I have enjoyed breaking the routine, but now I miss him.  It's amazing how attached I've gotten to all the grandchildren.  It's as if I carry them with me everywhere.  My friend and I went out to lunch yesterday, then I followed her around like a puppy while she bought a covering for a window, then talked to a business about new french doors.  We also wandered in a crazy dress shop I like, very seventies and hippie oriented,  but found nothing for our short bodies.  Every jacket and top was too much, too much material, too much embroidery, too much sleeve.  I love flamboyance but look better in severely tailored clothes.  Same with my friend.  And our partners are both a foot taller.  I told her how we didn't "match" with them, but she dismissed my theory.  We're friends like that - we say what we think.  No persona anymore, just the unvarnished us as we are.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My Zen teacher's husband died two days ago.  I was deeply fond of him, and he occasionally gave dharma talks himself at retreats.  He also was an expert on the origin of words, and fascinated us with how exciting and powerful words can be.  He was a gallant man, devastated when his wife, our teacher, deteriorated with Alzeimer's, and he lost his confidant and intellectual partner.  Without him she will have to sell their property in a beautiful valley, and move in with our daughter and her partner, or be in a facility.  Though I found a new teacher as she deteriorated, I felt overwhelming gratitude to her, the place they retired, and my many profound experiences there.  Her lessons:  Things Change, Don't Know, and It Takes as Long as it Takes, among others, guide my life.  They had fourteen years retired before he died, and I know he loved it there, made lots of friends, and adored swimming in his pool, with the dogs racing around and barking.  The lesson is dying.  He had a sudden and fast death, which is a blessing for him, but hard for the survivors.  He was brave and loyal and loving to his wife, and his suffering watching her disease advance is at an end.  Even the best of us die, and we must remember to be ever so grateful for the lives we are given.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our three year old grandson had his birthday party today, and we helped set up and clean up, so we were there the entire three hours.  My daughter called me yesterday asking for suggestions and I promptly answered:  number one, lots of balloons, number two, don't bother about cake, it's all about the ice cream for toddlers.  I was mighty gratified, because the balloons were the biggest hit, and the majority of the play was catching them, pulling them around by their strings, and choosing colors.  The tiny ice cream cones, toddler sized, were perfect for the kids, and every single kid had one and ate the whole thing.  My daughter wisely had healthy snacks, sandwiches of pbj, and apple slices.  The kids ate this food without trauma or mess.  Nothing got broken, no one stepped on a baby brother or sister, and most stayed the entire time.  Our grandson was pleased, and sent us home with a green balloon.  We didn't get the playdough favor though.  He knows us well.