Going Home

Tomorrow

and I am getting ready to go from north carolina to Ohio
from 50 degrees to Zero degrees
from a serene space of rest to a home filled with Chuck tasks

I will be ready to go tomorrow.  It is time.

We went on the Ferry to an aquarium and then lunch and a walk on Kure Beach.  The aquarium was really magical and I spent a lot of time just staring at jellyfish, and a yellow eel, and tropical multicolored amazing fish.  It was not very crowded and I could just be in a place of awe looking at the wonder of creation under the sea.

It was good to be out of myself and seeing the ALL of creation in a new way. Vicky and I talked about all the varied  and bright colors of these creatures and how often we limit the colors that we wear and decorate to greys, brown, blacks and whites.  I almost forget about yellows, fuschia, lime green, deep purples. I think there may be something here about self imposed limitations. 

I was so happy to be back walking on the beach one more time.  This time the sand was not packed and the walk was laborious and we did not really go far.  But to be in the presence of the waves that go on and on, one after another was good for my spirit.   Each wave is replaced  by another and I have this sense of both impermanence and eternity.  There is nothing like the ocean to bring me into a sense of oneness with all creation and with God. 

I found myself looking up beach properties and trying to imagine myself taking a week renting a condo on the beach off season and just walking day and night.  It seems like a dream of what might give me peace.  it probably won't happen.  But these short walks this week have been helpful to me.
As has this whole week away from home and just allowing myself to rest and receive the love and care from Vicky and Geoff.

And now I prepare myself to leave.  The airline pass is printed, I have some little gifts to give grandchildren and I leave tomorrow morning.

I write this hoping and trusting that in some way my grief is a little less raw and I can begin to turn the corner into whatever is next.  I look forward to sleeping in my bed (yes, it is now MY bed) and seeing children and grandchildren.  But the wonder is what new thing will home bring me?

I finished the book Almost Everything, Notes on Hope by Anne Lamott today.  And it reminds me that I leave this beautiful place, people and week behind with hope.    She writes:

Hope changes as you get a little older, from the hope that this or that happens to hope in life, in old friends, laughter, art, goodness, helpers.  I hope and am amazed, some early mornings, at just finding myself alive.....It's like in the Samuel Beckett novel:  "You must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on."

She ends the book with this paragraph:

We have all we need to come through. Against all odds, no matter what we've lost, no matter what messes we've made over time, no matter how dark the night, we offer and are offered kindness, soul, light, and food, which create breath and spaciousness, which create hope, sufficient unto the day.


i come back to the cold of Columbus hoping that I will live my life in more color and trust the presence of God through the impermanence of life.  I come back hoping that I will find places to serve and give to others as Geoff and Vicky have done for me.  I come back hoping that I can not just survive and go on - but thrive and begin to find joy and some new beginnings.

May it be so.