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The Bottom of the Sea

Img_3007 Have you ever walked with your thoughts on an endless path? Where you vaguely remember where they started and are unsure where they will end?

Seeing the vast horizon, wondering what will stir up from the bottom of the sea, knowing that the water runs deep, even if your toes cannot find a spot to dip in. Reaching into the empty pocket, and not finding a map?

The current sands shift, the fullness of the moon illuminates a new path, the silence like a soothing song... hauntingly new... where the soul leads the way; days and nights blend peacefully with a slow steady rainfall.

Thoughts upon thoughts, layering past and present, where answers aren't important or searched for. A rare truth is given when we look at mystery square in the eye and let it unravel as it will, trusting that a grace once obtain isn't lost.

Thank you for your guiding light and friendship.

April 29, 2008

My father's mother and father were standing at heaven's gate with their arms outstretched, smiling, calling their son's name, "George George come we have missed you!" Their faces full of light, their hearts bursting with joy! Behind them stood his family who have gone before him: Uncle Daniel, Uncle Elmer, Uncle Jules and Aunt Frannie, Aunt Marie, Aunt Velma, Uncle Harold, Uncle Ed, Uncle Al, Uncle Joe, Uncle Edmund, Uncle John, Baby John, my mother's parents Frances and John, his nieces and nephews Beverly, Michael and Jonathon... and so many others.... smiling, laughing, running towards him.

Then I saw us... Standing by his bed. His eyes memorizing our faces, his heart holding us with a song singing good bye, tenderly.

Oh beautiful life.

Oh beautiful death.

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We stood by his bed through out the night, in prayer, in silence, letting him go.

I had my hand on his heart and felt his last heart beat.

Oh Joy

Oh heaven with your gate wide and welcoming!

Dad, Oh Dad, I saw you as a child running, running into your families welcoming arms!

The Ride: the ups, the downs and the curve at the end of the road.

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Where does one begin...

My father asked me, "What should I do? What would you do Corey?"

The words that came from my heart ached my mind causing my back to tighten and my legs to wobble.

A decision was taken based on my words.

Had I known life was like this I would have lived it more wildly somewhere along the line. That is not to say that I regret how I have lived, but more-so to say that I have been silly at times not to have jumped and splashed in the puddle- to take advantage of the life I have been given.

My father in the misery of these 87 days in the hospital has shown me that he holds life strongly, preciously in his hands. His will to live astounds me. I would and have given up in far far less of a stressful situation.

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When the decision came to either go back into the ICU for more aggressive treatments (that cannot be done in the DCU the section of the hospital that he is presently resting)... My father was asked what he wanted to do.

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He turned to me and asked, "What should I do? What would you do Corey?"

I told him what I would do, and he nodded acceptingly. Oh God, how my father's asking and accepting willingly my response has haunted me, and yet made me feel the loving trust my father has placed on me.

Photo: All the photos on my blog since February 3rd have been photos I have had on stock. These were of last summer: The Honda 90 Ride.

Thank you Friends

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Thank you for the generous outpouring of love, affection and prayers that many of you have offered my family and myself. I am overwhelmed and blessed by your generous support.

During this difficult time I cannot respond to each and every email and comment I receive... I wish that I could. Though I do read every comment and email (more than once I might add) and take comfort in your words. Your names are familiar to me and when I see your name it is like seeing a friend's smile.

Thank you for sharing your friendship with a stranger, for adding hope and light to my days.

Flickering Light

Img_3166We are like a crystal suspended by a silver thread, a strong arm, and with a soul... floating in the university. Reflecting light, holding light and as the Light passes through us we are alive sending out a multitude of tinted light...rose, green yellow, blue....violet too.

When our Mothers carry us in their womb a different glow radiates from their being, and when our hour comes to go beyond here and now, the light flickers waving at us to understand, to grasp, to hold on, to let go.... to follow.

Without light there is darkness, a stillness, another journey.

My father's light flickers less today. With mixed emotion I hold on to the light above that filters through the university, and cry.... "Your will be done, your will be done."

How Does Your Garden Grow

Dishes_on_table French Husband tells me that our home is not the same without me. "It is quiet and empty..." then he quickly back tracks and says, "Well maybe not empty since a hodge podge of things are piling up on the table, on the counters, on the stairs, on the floors..."

Chelsea mentioned that when she came home from University last weekend that the first thing she noticed were the floors... "Mom I could have planted a garden on them."

Lovely.

Applying Healing Balm

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Applying Healing Balm

Standing at my father's bedside I often imagine the *prayers being sent. I imagine them floating above him waiting to be placed on the area where he needs the most healing. Believing that to be true I hear myself saying at times, "May the prayers being said today bring healing peace to my father's lungs." Then I sense the prayers streaming in towards his lungs.

When I had cancer years ago I felt prayers being sent my way. I could sense them as strongly as the clothing wrapped around me. It was one of the most amazing feelings to sense something invisible to the naked eye as tangible.

Have you had a similar experience?

*Prayers also positive thoughts.

Example Sheds a Light

_mg_0642 My friend Shelley who has ALS knows what it means to fight for her life. She is of sound mind, and though her body is beautiful and young, she cannot move any part of it. Her husband Eric, her rock and her foundation, is her life support here on earth. Caring for her, and making everyday as beautiful as it can be. You have heard the expression live your life as if it is your last day.... Shelley and Eric do just that.

Shelley shows me time and time again that life is what you make it. She faces death every moment, but she does not let it take her breath away in fear. Instead she lives in its shadow and dances with light.

_mg_0670_2 When my days at the hospital are too heavy, when I begin to crack from the pressure, when I feel the unfairness of life and doubt that God could have any hand in any of this, I think of Shelley and Eric. I have never heard them complain, nor utter one word about unfairness. Their example sheds a light on faith, love and hope. Their courage to face death every single day and still live their lives with joy slaps me right back into reality... A reality that life is what you make it.                

My father is ill. I am tired and I miss home. But at the end of the day I look around and can say I have lived it lovingly and I have given it my best... and that makes these sad days worthy of the smile I feel.

Thank you Shelley and Eric for showing me how to live life on the right side of the track.

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Note: Thank you for the loving responses you sent to me yesterday. It is a healing balm to have such prayer and good thoughts surrounding my family and I.

two steps forward, one step back, two steps to the side

Img_2984 As I witness life with my hands tied behind my back and my heart pounding loudly and echoing off the canyon's wall... I am not afraid but wearing thin.

As I listen to the unanswerable question - why, especially as it runs around poking at the festering wound then hides. It causes me to look around and doubt my choices, my response and myself. I find my energy nearing the breaking point.

Then to hear the insensitive suggestion, "Feed him less." It makes me want to throw up, pulls me to a dark corner where I see death as a gift and then shudder at the avenue. Ah the places one will go to when one is desperate.... for a change.

To know the well meaning response, "If there is anything I can do-" as a token of friendship. Knowing there is plenty to do, but most things seem trivial to ask for compared to the real unsolvable thing at hand. It is the lack of control, the letting go, the nodding of the head, the thank you for asking, and realizing that the next moment is not in our control. Friendship is a damn good offer.

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The constant watching, thinking, analyzing, directing, deciding, listening, praying and the lack of sleeping...the constant wave, no tidal wave against the empty shore.

Am I tired... yes.

How do I do it... with these words, "Do unto others as you would want them to do unto you."

Is my father getting better? He is 81, his heart is strong, but he is very weak, and slowly recovering and slipping at the same time. As my brother Mathew has said about dad, "He takes two steps forward, one step back, two steps to the side."

The thinking part of me realizes that my father has lived a good life, has reached old age, and that his time has come... but the feeling part of me aches at what I see...

I lied, I am not tired, I am exhausted- as is my father and my mother. I shouldn't complain but that is how it is and there isn't anything to do but to wake up and face the day with grace and courage.

Holding a Mirror

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Img_3765  In the painting above the young woman holds a mirror behind herself as she gazes into the future, in doing so she places her hand to her heart. She is sitting- could that mean she is not in a hurry. Though her foot inches forward prepared with a shoe that touches the ground. Could that mean she is ready even if she is not in a hurry.

What do you see? Where does the story unfold?

The nights are calmer. My father sleeps in a familiar position, his hand to his heart. I hold a mirror to the past several weeks.... I am not in a hurry-

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