…Let the world slip away
On this almost perfect afternoon
Can’t we stay in bed all day?
Just this one day
This golden Sunday with you
On this sunny Sunday it is, as the lyrics go, an almost perfect afternoon. With Molly Johnson’s “Messin’ Around” CD jazzing up my space, I’m thinking about how time ebbs and flows, seems to stop momentarily when our breath catches in our throat, and then we breathe again. When the work of care giving becomes dreary, the seconds, minutes and hours seem to move too slowly.
Here’s an excerpt from my memoir, Dear Tony…a Caregiver’s Journey:
“I was aware that Alzheimer’s disease was sometimes described as “the long goodbye”. Like other caregivers, I mourned as events unfolded – rather than jailing my pain till the end. Some days it was like watching paint dry.”
Somehow the resilience of spirit keeps us plodding forward; we know in our hearts that this temporary assignment will have an end date. A new assignment begins then with different work. Everyone handles grief differently, and despite my urge to reach out to a new widow, I reserve my impulse and pledge to watch her grow into a new self.
My niece gave me a butterfly-shaped sun catcher for Christmas. The words etched on the pendant are inspiring and encouraging, even on this sunny Sunday when I’ve been ambushed by emotion.
Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.
The promise catches my breath in my throat. After all, we are part of nature’s ever-changing cycles, sprouting with renewal now and waiting for spring.