I'm sitting here outside the Hospice facility and I noticed a tree that looks a little worse for wear. For the middle of the summer after all of this rain I would think its leaves would be greener, perkier or at least more lifted up. Then a squirrel runs along the fence top behind the tree, the wind blows, a serenade of grasshoppers (my aunt says they're June bugs) start a chime in the distance and the sound rolls across my spectrum from right to left. A turtle pops it head up from the retention pond causing ripples to bounce the water ever so gently across to the other side. It's then my eyes see the oh so ordinary, slightly worse for worn, tired tree in the beauty of its reflection. The serenade grows louder and wind now amplifies the rippling, distorting the image to unrecognizable and it's colors melt into the taller oak behind it and the crystal blue of the sky. I tried to capture that image with my camera but it lost its majesty in the iris of technology but not in my minds eye. I know I've written about the importance of perspective, but today I see the beauty of it.
I know that the God of all creation is taking the shell of a woman I've had the honor and privilege to call mom, and more recently the joy of calling friend, and transforming her out of her tired, a little worse for worn, always-anything-but-ordinary body into a beautiful reflection of what her forever is going to be. It started as an assignment for me to walk her through the valley...and there have been some dark twists and snares...but I pray it won't be long until I can report to you that she has accomplished the task before her and won the race, with more wisdom and grace and peace than I have ever known. Yes it started as an assignment, but it has become my privilege. My heart hurts to let her go...I miss her already...but this is not her last breath...it will be her first.