when the heart waits

All credits belong to Sue Monk Kidd whose book by that title I am currently reading.  I ordered it because I loved The Secret Life of Bees.  When the heart waits addresses mid-life crisis or ANY crisis for that matter as an opportunity to sit back, let go and let God.  And wait.  Because waiting is the hardest part.  We don't know how to be still and listen for the still small voices of the universe because we're all so "busy."  Being retired is a blessing in that respect but I am still one to be up and moving until bedtime.  My only escape is writing and that's killing my shoulders.  Perhaps I should paint with broad strokes and get unwound. 

I am watching the last of today's sunset and it's a sight for sore eyes following two very rainy days.  It's still cold though.  I'm hoping that tonight's 26 will be the last for awhile.  When I got home I hauled the garbage can up to the house.  I mean it had only been sitting there for two days.  I am only one person!  I remember the kind physical therapist who hauled it back and forth for me after my surgery.  That was way beyond his job description, ya know?  At the hospital they always told us to ask what a patient needs and if we can't do it, get somebody else.  Tell the nurse.  This type of front line pro-active care is what should be happening everywhere.  I have been lost as a goose in more than one facility and was fortunate to find folks who would walk me to where I needed to be.  Hats off to the north hospital in Jackson.  

LP will be here tomorrow to dig through all the stuff me and Lorna hauled.  Most of it is clothes which she will need because she's going back to work next week.  It's been an amazing recovery once she got past the first week of pain.  She and Reaves are seeing each other regularly and everybody's getting along.  I love it when that happens.  

My next submission is about my dear friend Mary Gwyn Bowen who is a retired nurse and botanical art teacher.  I called her last night to nail down some details and ended up having a long talk about her history.  We met in junior high and our mothers worked together at The Dyersburg Mirror.  Mary Lee was managing editor and Mom was the society editor.  That was back in the day when people put their wedding pictures and a complete write up in the paper.  She had a Volkswagen van that was perfect for our hippie selves.  Daddy adopted a dog that got run over at their house named Hannibal.  That poor thing suffered with seizures until he died but we loved him.  There is a picture somewhere of a young Tommy sitting on the ground next to Daddy with Hannibal in the front.

I am grateful for the technology that allows us to communicate quickly but I also realize that elderly folks who don't have "help", as Ms. Annie called it, are lost in the shuffle of modern life.  My parents couldn't have figured out a healthcare portal if somebody held a gun to their heads.  I was their advocate and was blessed to be in the loop.  So many don't have a clue.

I missed church last Sunday and I'm looking forward to being there this weekend.  I have a lot of questions that need to be answered before I vote.  To be realistic, this thing could go either way.  I'm just waiting like Sue Monk Kidd and being still.  In the Bible there was a whole lot of patience by people who didn't think they had a chance until they acknowledged that Higher Power.  And God always sent signs.  Still does ^j^