My heart is full; my eyes brim with tears on this Thanksgiving Day 2006. What a bountiful life I have been privileged to live. I love this day, one in which the season encourages me to pause, reflect, allow gratitude to spring from my depths and let my heart and spirit say “Thank You.” For me, the thanks are addressed first to the One with whom I have a personal relationship. In following Jesus, nearly 60 years of life now, I have known the One who gives me life itself. And the journey of following has led me into pleasant places.
I sat this morning in my La-Z-Boy recliner in the sun room looking out on gray skies and wet grounds from the evening’s storm that has now passed on to the north of this DC suburb. The Washington Post provided me my first feast of the day…columns of reflections ranging from the first American Thanksgiving to various writers’ personal memories of this very special and uniquely American tradition. None of them compared to the email I received this morning from our daughter who at this very moment is hosting with her husband and two children a crowd of 18-20 Tajiks to feast with them in their home in Dushambe, Tajikistan. It stirred my memories of when we hosted friends and colleagues for Thanksgiving in Nairobi, Kenya a dozen years ago. Ah, what a special American gift to share a cultural celebration that transcends cultures because it has roots in the universal value of simple gratitude. Pleasant places, peaceful moments, and memories of goodly heritage can be created anywhere in the world any day of the year…but to have a day set aside for such a ritual is a gift in itself.
This morning I tried to share an especially poignant moment with Linda. I hesitated sharing, knowing that her Alzheimer’s damaged brain would be unlikely to capture the meaning. But I needed to share it, even if she could not grasp it. So I did. I shared how I was so touched to be included as one of sixteen peacemakers in a new book that is about to be published called Peacemakers in Action: Profiles of Religion in Conflict Resolution. This coming Friday I will be at a book launch at the U.S. Institute of Peace along with two of my fellow Peacemakers in Action and the book editor, Dr. David Little of Harvard. Yesterday, I received a flier for the book and the public event. It contained some amazing statements from prominent reviewers. The list includes His Holiness the Dalai Lama, His Royal Highness Prince El Hassan bin Talal of Jordan and a long list of dignitaries. I was struck by the enthusiasm of Dr. Marc Gopin, Professor of World Religions, Diplomacy, and Conflict Resolution at George Mason University, who wrote, “This is the single most important book published in the field of religion and conflict resolution to date.” It makes me want to read the book…and makes me marvel that somehow I am included in the stories of practitioners.
In the past, when special moments occurred for me, I could share them at home with Linda and she would fill them with escalating joy as she affirmed and encouraged me. Not so, today. She could not grasp the meaning and could not hold on to any of the ideas for even a moment. Her response was just some stringing together of phrases that carried no verbal meaning . . . a non sequitur from what I had shared. So the tears came to my eyes…another painful loss as my life partner could no longer grasp and celebrate with me a moment of thankfulness.
However, I wonder, is it possible that her meaningless words came from deep within her and was an expressed desire to say something out loud that would echo her heart? Was she engaging with me not at a rational level but at a level of two lovers who do not depend on words to convey meaning? I choose to embrace that thought, even if my tears deny the belief. How I miss her incredible ability of years past to celebrate each special moment of others…whether it is her husband, her children, her grandchildren or even a stranger who shares a special moment! But for me, the fact that I miss it now means it once was there and now is gone. It means I can be thankful for the un-numbered times I have been privileged to be celebrated by this special woman…so today I am thankful for what has been and what I can remember even if I must hold these memories for the both of us.
Yes, it is Thanksgiving Day, and I am thankful that my life has been so good with this gracious woman that I can now feel intense pain and loss. If it had not been so good, then it wouldn’t hurt so badly. So I am even thankful for the depth of pain and the brimming tears because they confirm my “goodly heritage” that makes me proclaim “the boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.”
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; I have a goodly heritage.Psalms 16:6
I sat this morning in my La-Z-Boy recliner in the sun room looking out on gray skies and wet grounds from the evening’s storm that has now passed on to the north of this DC suburb. The Washington Post provided me my first feast of the day…columns of reflections ranging from the first American Thanksgiving to various writers’ personal memories of this very special and uniquely American tradition. None of them compared to the email I received this morning from our daughter who at this very moment is hosting with her husband and two children a crowd of 18-20 Tajiks to feast with them in their home in Dushambe, Tajikistan. It stirred my memories of when we hosted friends and colleagues for Thanksgiving in Nairobi, Kenya a dozen years ago. Ah, what a special American gift to share a cultural celebration that transcends cultures because it has roots in the universal value of simple gratitude. Pleasant places, peaceful moments, and memories of goodly heritage can be created anywhere in the world any day of the year…but to have a day set aside for such a ritual is a gift in itself.
This morning I tried to share an especially poignant moment with Linda. I hesitated sharing, knowing that her Alzheimer’s damaged brain would be unlikely to capture the meaning. But I needed to share it, even if she could not grasp it. So I did. I shared how I was so touched to be included as one of sixteen peacemakers in a new book that is about to be published called Peacemakers in Action: Profiles of Religion in Conflict Resolution. This coming Friday I will be at a book launch at the U.S. Institute of Peace along with two of my fellow Peacemakers in Action and the book editor, Dr. David Little of Harvard. Yesterday, I received a flier for the book and the public event. It contained some amazing statements from prominent reviewers. The list includes His Holiness the Dalai Lama, His Royal Highness Prince El Hassan bin Talal of Jordan and a long list of dignitaries. I was struck by the enthusiasm of Dr. Marc Gopin, Professor of World Religions, Diplomacy, and Conflict Resolution at George Mason University, who wrote, “This is the single most important book published in the field of religion and conflict resolution to date.” It makes me want to read the book…and makes me marvel that somehow I am included in the stories of practitioners.
In the past, when special moments occurred for me, I could share them at home with Linda and she would fill them with escalating joy as she affirmed and encouraged me. Not so, today. She could not grasp the meaning and could not hold on to any of the ideas for even a moment. Her response was just some stringing together of phrases that carried no verbal meaning . . . a non sequitur from what I had shared. So the tears came to my eyes…another painful loss as my life partner could no longer grasp and celebrate with me a moment of thankfulness.
However, I wonder, is it possible that her meaningless words came from deep within her and was an expressed desire to say something out loud that would echo her heart? Was she engaging with me not at a rational level but at a level of two lovers who do not depend on words to convey meaning? I choose to embrace that thought, even if my tears deny the belief. How I miss her incredible ability of years past to celebrate each special moment of others…whether it is her husband, her children, her grandchildren or even a stranger who shares a special moment! But for me, the fact that I miss it now means it once was there and now is gone. It means I can be thankful for the un-numbered times I have been privileged to be celebrated by this special woman…so today I am thankful for what has been and what I can remember even if I must hold these memories for the both of us.
Yes, it is Thanksgiving Day, and I am thankful that my life has been so good with this gracious woman that I can now feel intense pain and loss. If it had not been so good, then it wouldn’t hurt so badly. So I am even thankful for the depth of pain and the brimming tears because they confirm my “goodly heritage” that makes me proclaim “the boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.”
9 comments:
Dad,
What a beautiful entry today. I too cried as I read your blog, how much we have lost in Mom, yet how much we had that we can be thankful for. If it had never been there it wouldn't be lost. I was walking with a new friend this week and she had just visited the children's program where I work. She was telling me what a great encourager I am of all the teachers. I stopped for a moment and then I told her that I had never claimed encouragement as my gift. It was always my mother's gift. Mom was an amazing encourager of you, her friends, us (her children), her students and her grandchildren. I have high expectations of what an encourager is--Mom is the greatest I have ever known. Somehow on that road with my new friend, I realized that what lives in me and who I am is part of how mom is living on even now as her mind is no longer her own. What a legacy she leaves not only to her children and grandchildren but all those who have been receivers of her encouragement over the last 59 years.
I love you, Dad.
Bethany
As I read your post, I too found my eyes filling with tears. Right now, I often find it hard to squeeze a moment of reflection into my life, and yet when I do, it is so precious. During this Thanksgiving weekend, I have not taken as much time as I feel is needed to truly grasp the magnitude of the year’s events. As I read about Mom, recalling past times when she was whole and full of joy, I smile and cry.
Your account in regards to your desire to share with Mom, and the inability for her to respond really resonates with me in the deepest parts of my soul. This is one of the greatest losses for me, as the youngest. Being the youngest child, I had full and exclusive access to Mom for three years. These years are so very dear to me. For years, Mom would be there when I came home from school and hold me if I needed to cry or celebrate my success - no matter how small it may have been. Her endless capacity to encourage, empathize, and love is so engrained in my relationship with her, that I find myself at a loss as they fade away.
In all of that, I am still so thankful to have been so encouraged, so understood, and so loved.
As I spend my days raising the boys, I pray that I can give them just a small token of the love, support, and understanding that Mom granted to me on so many occasions.
Bill,
Your reflections are always powerful and poignant. The Psalm 16 line about pleasant places was always my mom's 'life verse' so to speak, except she wouldn't have used those words. Life is such a mystery isn't it? But with you and the others, I, too, hold Linda's encouragemant in my heart. She always told me that next to you, I was the second best preacher she enjoyed listening to! I think Linda really believes that I can leap tall buildings in one great jump! Bless her heart! Thanks for your words.
Alice
Bill,
I've reread your blog over and over. Thaks for sharing your heart with us. We passed my laptop around the room on Thanksgiving Day so that all who were here could hear your heart.
All were glad that Linda came here for Thanksgiving Day and that she was calm enough to let you stay and celebrate with us all.
We all love you and Linda,
Emmy, Wood, Marie, Alex, Helen, Seth, Myra, Wood, and Sandra. And the 7 little ones love her too.
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