Monday, October 22, 2007

My dearest God,

I stood on the rock where my mother stood many years ago. She had come to New England with her sister-in-law and friend. She found her way to Cape Porpoise and there she looked out upon Goat Island Lighthouse. She loved it here.

My sister, niece and cousin stood there too. We watched as the seagulls soared, dancing in the sky. We walked over to the pier and watched the lobstermen raise the heavy boxes of freshly caught lobster. We sat down on the bench at the end of the pier and watched a lone seagull perch on one of the many lobster boats in the bay. Quietly, each of us were left with our own thoughts.

Captured by the beauty of the picturesque scene before us, I thought of Mother. I imagine she felt some of the same feelings we were experiencing. Awe, wonder, peaceful calm, serenity. I wonder if she thought about her children, wanting to show us the beauty of this tiny piece of earth. I know I was thinking about having Mother stand with me, with us sharing the beauty of a moment in time, a historical moment of love and awe shared between mother and daughter, grandmother and granddaughter, aunt and niece. How lovely to enjoy such a moment together.

As spectacular as the view was, how much more beautiful was the time we were spending together. Having lost touch for 50 years with my cousin, several years with my niece and a few years with my sister, it seemed a miracle that we were together. We were getting to know each other again, knitting our lives more closely together.

We asked one another questions from our past. “Were you close to your mother? Your dad? What was it like for you as a child?” Breaking the silence of lives not close for many years, we shared together. Nothing really bad, just little sadnesses along the way. Sometimes allowing the revelation to surface gave a little more breathing space, recognizing that life never has to be lived in the shadow of the past, but light can be spread in a new way. Felt good.

It’s a strange place we’re in, being together, the four of us. Yet, it seems that we are painting a new canvas together, bringing together both old and new colors, painting an old, familiar picture, yet a new one, unfinished, many new hues, combinations to be added. Part of the miracle.

Oh God,
what surprising gifts
you offer.
Teeny bits
of time
shared together
reveal
the wonders
of your love
for your children.
Can it be
that each one
of us
needed
the other
to live more deeply,
richly
and wondrously?
Has our reconnection
reestablished something more
inside us?
Left with
my own thoughts
I give thanks.

Loving you always, Andrea