I have a bookmark that says:
"My friend is one who knows my song and sings it to me when I forget."
The month of May has been hard. Loss of a friendship. Loss of a neighbor. Loss of a grumpy old man. All of whom I came to love.
And therapy. Opening up those long ago sealed and buried boxes of memories and emotion has been soul shredding.
Lately I feel like I am crawling naked through glass.
On Monday I walked out to my car after my therapy session and just started to cry. One of those long, cathartic sobbing sessions. Then, too exhausted to drive home, I went to a nearby friend’s house. There, I spit out that not only was I losing too many people I care about but I was also losing myself. A serious pity party followed.
Yesterday I received this email from my friend:
Take the advice of Wendell Berry -
“When despair for the world grows in you and you wake in the night at the least sound, in fear of what your life and your children’s lives may be, go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. Come into the peace of wild things that do not trouble their lives with forethought of grief. Come into the presence of still water and feel above you the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time, rest in the grace of the world.”
You are safe. You are loved. And because you are currently lame and cannot go backpacking, I have rented a cabin deep in the woods for a weekend to find peace among the wild things.
And once again I find myself in deep gratitude for the friends, seen and unseen, who know my song and sing it to me when I forget.
*** I realize that I will be extremely isolated, in a very remote location if the rapture comes Saturday evening. I am pretty sure that I don’t qualify, but if any of you go, could you please leave a note? I really hate losing people.