So Thanksgiving. It always takes me a few days to figure out what I want to say. I know how I feel, but coming up with the words, well, they need time to steep, or ripen or marinate. My oldest daughter sent me several texts of her Thanksgiving Day. It was not one of those family times gilded with great love. It was not a Kodachrome memory. It was hard and lonely and frustrating. As a mother, I wanted to rush right out and bring the offending parties to task, to open up a can of whip...well you know. My daughter is 42 but she is still my baby girl, and I do get a bit of the grizzly going when someone hurts my kids (including grandchildren). This daughter is quite capable of dealing with hard times and challenges. I know this...so in our first texts back and forth I tried to get her in her, youre not gonna get me down mode. But everyone has this invisible limit lines...and when they are crossed, it gets very hard. Hard for her because she is alone, and hard for me because I am so far away. I hate that on a day of Thankfulness, she was placed in such a hard place. People ignored her, left her to do the clean up as if her middle name was Cinderella, and when she spoke up to tell of some past family story, they were barely able to contain the yawn of indifference. So eventually, after the dishes and the dessert she went to her room and text her mom. I dont understand that kind of hardness of heart, I just dont get it. In our family, it was my mothers mission to make sure that we never we guilty of leaving someone out and it was not tolerated on her watch. That means we of that family of origin are quite unprepared sometimes for the ways people can behave in a less than human manner. When I first went to lie down in my bed on Thursday evening, after such a warm and wonderful Thanksgiving with friends here, I was restless with the injustice of some of our human insanity. Thanksgiving and there are homeless out on the dark and cold streets after I have shared the bounty of a feast of food and friendship. Thanksgiving and there are people afraid of the night because of the violence it brings. Thanksgiving and there are people feeling so isolated and alone. What does one do? I laid there for a bit of time, unable to pray for the anger I felt at these circumstances, of my daughter and the countless number of others forgotten. But then I remembered, Bless, do not curse, bless your enemies and pray for those who spitefully use you. I had to say, God, I know you want me to bless them. I want to do what you want, but on the other hand, I dont. Its true. What I want is for them to feel how it is to be on the other side. But, what you ask of me in return for the blessings I have received is to bless them, so, bless them with whatever they need and bless them to the extent that your loving mercy has been given to me. And grant me the grace to pray that for them everyday. I did not experience angels singing, or golden light shining on me, or even a phone call from my daughter saying that those who had done these things came to her crying and asking for her to forgive them. None of that happened. It was still night...it was still dark...and my mothers heart was still aching. So I then said thank you...for the whole day, for all of it, the dark and the light, the good and the not so. I then laid it all down because it was too heavy for me, I could not carry it. Then I went to sleep trusting that God would grant that peace of sleep to my oldest daughter.
Posted on: Sun, 30 Nov 2014 05:35:35 +0000
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