Today was a blessed day. I walked around Huntington gardens with my friend Jenni after eating a delicious light lunch. We had bowls of a brothy clam chowder and a salad with cubes of beets and sliced strawberries, tiny tomatoes, a sprinkling of vegetables and leaf lettuce. We wandered around a bit and sat on a bench and talked about our mothers and fathers. She went home to take a nap, and I visited the gift shop and felt happy browsing around, buying little Christmas gifts and maybe some things that I really don’t need, but I really desired. Desire. I drove away from the museum and into the neighborhoods in Pasadena, getting lost and then stopping to walk under what seemed like a golden grove of gingkos. My God, they were beautiful in the sun and against the blue sky. Leaves fluttered down in the slight breeze and made a carpet underfoot. And I stood there under them.
Here’s a blessing that author, professor and “incurable optimist” Kate Bowler wrote. I’ve cut and pasted it from her website and hope that that’s ok. I think I know someone who knows her, though, so if it’s not ok, I hope that I will hear. I thought about writing a blessing myself, but then I googled “blessings for caregivers,” scrolled through a few very religious ones and came up with Kate’s. I think it’s perfect.
A Blessing for Caregivers
blessed are we
for whom the call to loving action is still strong,
whose every urge is to keep going, keep working,
and not to count the cost.
and yet blessed are we,
beginning to notice that we are slowing down, inexplicably,
or just pausing, staring for no reason,
or starting something,
but then quickly turning to another demand.
blessed are we,
realizing that we are beginning to lose the thread.
blessed are we who say
I really can’t keep going like this,
at this pace, under this weight,
and also, the momentum is so strong, I can’t stop.
God, come and be the hands that sit me down
and keep me there long enough
for me to really feel what I feel,
and know what I know.
come and be the wisdom
to find the support system that is broad enough,
kind enough, effective enough to meet the needs that are here
– both mine and theirs.
come and be the peace that frees me
to let my hands lie gently open awhile,
the grace to just receive.
seek the rest you need, and a little bit more.
it is a sacred space.
She's wonderful. Ack. i just heard that. 'can't do this any more'. my sister. i totally get it. if the tables were turned, i'd be pissed.
Beautiful photo, beautiful poem, beautiful moments in a life of relentless service and sacrifice.