Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I took a walk with a friend this morning, and we had our usual cappuchinos and chatted, then hunted in the market for harissa with rose petals for a dinner she's making tomorrow night.  We passed by a used kids' store and in the window was this alligator clacker walker that my daughter had been wanting to get for her nephew, the nine month old, so I walked in and bought it like new at half price.  I was mighty pleased, even though I had to carry it the rest of the way home.  Serendipity!  I love it!
Yesterday I gave my three year old grandson some little scarves I'd knitted, as he had admired mine.  My daughter said he told her to open the window on the way home in the car, so he could test their warmth, and then she sent me a photo of him on the sofa wearing a blue scarf and with the gray and white one in his lap.  I even gave him a tiny yellow one for his stuffed kitty, that goes with him everywhere.  He's my biggest fan, when it comes to knitting!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I went to the dentist bright and early this morning, at 7:30 am.  Get it over with is my motto.  Last night our younger daughter had some contractions, so I didn't sleep as soundly, waiting for a call to get our grandson, but she said this morning it all just petered out.  The baby is coming soon, though, that's clear.  It's crisp and cold here, and I actually wore my parka to the dentist.  Normally I keep all my gear from living in Colorado up at the cabin, but luckily, I have a few things here, mainly for trips away.  My husband and I are taking our pregnant daughter to lunch and a movie, which hopefully will be relaxing for her.  We're seeing "Just Mercy", which I've wanted to see because I loved the book.  Having Jamie Foxx star is a plus, as I'm quite an admirer of his acting.  I'm avoiding all mention of the State of the Union address, or at least as much as I can get away with.  Nancy Pelosi, you go girl!  Tear it up!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our younger daughter is due with her baby in five days.  I'm getting pretty excited.  She is SO ready to have this baby.  He's big and she is uncomfortable.  This afternoon she sees the doctor again and maybe she's dilated and effaced a bit.  Her three year old son is not so sure about these coming changes, and still wants a sister, not a brother.  He's in the middle of two boy cousins, and it can be challenging.  I can remember  being less than impressed with my baby brother, especially as he peed all over me when he got home.  Then, let's face it, there is nothing to do with them for months:  you can't pick them up and hold them, they don't do anything interesting, and when you need mommy they're hogging the whole show.  No, I remember being disgusted.  It was not like having my own dolly. 
But my brother was a fellow companion through our childhoods and he loved me, even though we were unlike in pretty much every way except giggling and loving dogs.  He's been gone now for almost seven years, and I miss my witness to my parents and the past. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband is going to watch the superbowl, so I was going shopping, since I really don't care about football.  I keep an eye on my alma mater's college team, but that's it.  I discovered my destination, a clothing store I love, is not open, so I'll go to a fabric store I like.  I need mint green fabric for the back of a baby quilt, and once I get in there, I'll oogle the prints and buttons and other stuff.  I love the idea of sewing, even though I'm not really skilled.  Both my parents were in the garment industry, so that world is so comfortable and now nostalgic for me.  My mother could sew anything, and I still swoon at her smocking, embroidery and elegant linings.  She made me a red robe in heavy cotton with smocking on the yoke, and really, I've never seen anything as nice since.  She knitted sweaters and made skirts to match, and with her own clothes, you could never tell if she bought it at a high end boutique or made it.  I'm too impatient and sloppy to be really good, but I'm an admirer of needlework of any kind, and have a small collection of fabrics from around the world.  If a man does this kind of work, he's labeled a design genius, but millions of women create beauty every day for their families, and for a pittance in factories and sweat shops.  My solidarity with them is boundless.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The MRI results were good news:  no new growth of cancer.  It gives us hope that she will have more time, and perhaps new treatments will surface, and she will not die, at least not anytime soon.  We are all so relieved. 
Tonight we are celebrating our older son's and his wife's birthdays, getting together with the family here at an Indian restaurant and having cake.  It will be chaotic, with three little fellows, but our reservation is for 5:30, so we have less chance of meltdowns.
This morning my husband and I took a walk, and didn't even need jackets.  It's sunny and in the sixties.  We tentatively discussed a trip this summer, and though we know planning is not wise and we must remain fluid, thinking about getting away, and not for a health crisis, felt really good.  We need to dream a bit, and hope, and breathe in the image of our daughter healing and surviving.  It's the only way to live.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I find myself frozen, waiting.  Ostensibly I'm waiting to hear about the MRI results, but I notice little things, like not having knitted the last few weeks, so last night I took up my knitting while we watched "The Martian".  The desolate Mars was perfect for my mood, and I had to laugh at myself for melodramatizing ordinary love and worry of a mother for her daughter.  I'm now waiting to hear her interviewed on the radio for her novel.  That's exciting.  She's doing a much better job of living in the moment than I am.  Her childhood friend is with her, and I know they are having fun, and in two days her younger brother comes up to be with her for two weeks.  She's well cared for.  Over the weekend her stepmother and half brother will visit from Ireland, and they are dear and fun people.  I am rehearsing the loss, and that is unwholesome.  I need to remember my practice, and be pleased with her voice on the radio, her words on paper, and her liveliness right now.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend and I took a walk this morning and, as she is in a meditation class, she asked me why many prayers begin with "May".  May you be free from suffering and the causes of suffering, for example.  I hadn't really thought about it, though I acknowledged that my prayers begin with "May".  May my daughter be saved.  May her MRI be clear.  May the unborn baby be healthy.  I told my friend that I believe, first of all, it gets the ego "I" out of the way, and as I'm not asking a favor of some entity outside my self for rescue, it keeps the universe open.  Many amazing, contradictory things happen that are surprising or illogical, so it keeps "don't know" foremost and hope alive.  "May" also addresses the interconnectedness of all beings, and how the butterfly in China may cause an outcome on the other side of the world.  The universe is infinitely complex, and every situation is unique as well as familiar.  We are throwing out to the unknowable our wish and that thought becomes a part of everything.  Not really owned by us, and hopefully embraced by all beings.