free to be

blessings.

I've mentioned this before but there's this amazing cabin in Blowing Rock, NC that has become an oasis of sorts for a small handful of ladies. Last weekend, Kathy, Brenda and I loaded up Kathy's SUV and headed east to our weekend retreat. We left after sunset, with the moon large and rotund overhead. I stared out the window with the same sort of fervor I do when I can see the depth and height of the mountains in plain view. This time, however, the darkness was a calm companion. I was very much aware of what lay hidden in the dark; it's awe was not lost by the mask of night. As we drove, we each took turns weaving our thoughts together. Three separate woman on separate journeys yet ever so tightly bound. Sandra McCracken serenaded us as we weaved and crawled up the mountain.
Once at the cabin, we each claimed our respective beds and the conversation continued for the next couple of days. On this trip, I listened a lot more then I normally do. It was good, to listen. I realized I don't do that nearly as much as I should. It blessed me to hear the inner workings of their hearts. I learned about faith that fights and the conversation of prayer. We returned to Johnson City the same way we came, only this time we were blanketed in a cloud of fog. Every now and then the fog would lift and color would shout at us from the tree tops. There we were-with our eyes fixed on the hazy horizon-in anticipation of those fleeting moments of breath taking clarity, with Sandra McCracken still singing softly in the background, and our conversation quieter, more relaxed in the knowing of each other's souls.

Work was busy this past week. I have found that when I first started working with hospice I always felt this need to come home and digest some of the things that happened--especially deaths. Early in the week I realized that somewhere over the course of the past few months I've come to a place where I can come home without feeling the need to blurt out "someone died today" the second I come through the door. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Just an observation; although I'm leaning towards 'good thing'. Maybe I'm finally beginning to realize it's not about me. Not even in part. What I do know is this: there is a Holy balance in this type of work. I have the privilege of walking on sacred ground every time I go into a patient's home. People who live with the awareness that they are dying, generally live at a whole different level. Being around them changes everything.

And then, finally, we had a visitor this weekend! My mom came to East TN for a few days and she came at just the right time. We again went to Blowing Rock and words cannot describe the beauty of the leaves. It was a kaleidoscope of color! We did a little shopping, we looked at homes and strolled around Jonesborough, and we had dinner with some friends. It was a calm, enjoyable, relaxing weekend. Oliver was most amused by mom and her antics...and vice versa. Kyle tried to get mom to take Oliver with her but she said we couldn't pay her enough. My poor dog.

Kyle leaves for Newport Beach, CA this week! He too, has been so busy. He's been a rock.

blessings are everywhere: in the dark. in the color. through the fog. in the quiet. in conversation. in the living. in that final breath.

may we each have eyes to see.