As I watched my daughter run barefoot into the garden wearing nothing but her bathing suit, dripping with water that cooled her skin on this hot day, I admired her innocence, her care free, fluid movements as she hummed and swayed to the tune playing in her mind. Being careful to avoid any prickers, she gracefully guided her hand through the bramble of thorn filled branches to pluck a plump, sun warmed blackberry off of the vine, and smiled to herself as she placed the sweet fruit on her tongue with it’s dark juice dripping down her face and staining her fingers.
In a world full of violence, in a life where I’ve endured abuse, with a mind that I can not control some times, how do I possibly keep from ruining that quintessential innocence? I spent the morning reflecting on my natural propensity to sabotage pretty much everything I have. I was never able to see it that way before. I always had some external situation or other culprit to blame. But lately I can’t do much more than look in the mirror and honestly see the person staring back at me. It’s so hard to look and see the flaws and then try to see beyond to find the beauty that is trying to come out. I realized today that I have been my own worst enemy and I have spent most of my life getting in my own way, tripping over myself in a vain attempt to protect myself from hurting. All this time I have thought that I needed to gain independence from my family, independence from my past, independence from the emotional chains that hinder me, but what I really need is independence from the me I’ve always been so I can become the authentic, true, original me.
Then I began to wonder how other people were celebrating today. Were they using it as an excuse to party, drink and indulge, were they patriotic and honoring the historical significance or were they doing nothing of significance ? Perhaps there were some people who used the day to volunteer or donate time to others. I couldn’t help but wonder how I could make the most of this day in a meaningful way. I began to think about those who are grieving and/or dying. I thought of June and the fact that she had surgery last Thursday to have her tumor removed and that I’ve not been able to get in touch with her or anyone in her family so I didn’t know how she is doing. I’ve been worried not just for her physical health but wondered how she is doing mentally. It has been distressing to be unable to connect with her because I have wanted to let her know I am still here, just wanting to support her. I wonder how most people cope with the discomfort that occurs when you are concerned about a person but have no way to let them know. It creates a such a sense of helplessness and can be difficult to sit with. It’ s always easier to “do” something, to act in some way, then it is to sit and do “nothing.” I was relieved when her son picked up the telephone today and I received an update on how she was doing, but more importantly, she would know I care. After I hung up the phone I couldn’t help but sit and think about how she was spending perhaps her very last Independence Day, in bed, strapped to oxygen, with difficulty speaking. How can a person make the most of that? I wondered how many other people lay in bed dying while so many others laugh carelessly, perhaps behaving rash or recklessly, taking life for granted. And who is it that brings comfort to the dying while our country celebrates? And who comforts those who bring comfort to the dying and their family? Death does not care that it is a holiday, so there must be people who do not care either. Who are they? What are they? How are they? I wondered wishing I could meet one so I could learn from them.
leighcannon 