The first year after my mom’s stroke was the darkest time for me. My homelessness was bad, but didn’t even “touch” the darkness of that first year. The depression was bad. It was BAD, bad. Many days I would wake up in the morning and as soon as I was conscious, I would be sobbing. That led me to a sort of “gauge” on how bad things were, based on whether I was crying BEFORE I was even out of bed. Back then it was often. It is not often now, but it happened two days ago.
After waking up, and sobbing before I was out of bed, (never a good sign) I got up and took the one kind of medication that I do have, and I made coffee. A couple hours later, I feel a lot better and it is not ONLY because of the medication. It is because I remembered some things, and I remembered them because of my friend Sabine.
I remembered that I am wonderful and brilliant.
I remembered that I am entitled to the same love that I feel for, and give to, others. I am deserving of the same encouragement and loving speech I give to my dogs. “It’s ok.” “You’re alright.” “GOOD GIRL!“ 😀
I remembered that I am my own best friend. And like any good friend, I am the one who will help me the most.
I remembered that stressing about it does NOT help. It actually causes resistance. Like trying to forcing a tight ring on a finger. Don’t FORCE it. Relax and “allow” it to happen as you wish.
I remembered that just because I want it, or even think I need it, doesn’t mean I am right. I need to allow The Universe to “do it’s thing”. What I need and want will be given to me freely and easily, but if I am fully determined that what I need is “over there”, I may miss the actual thing I need as it passes me by “over here”
I have received much kindness from so many, but today, I am reminded by, and grateful for Sabine. Thank you Sabine for your wisdom and gentle guidance, and your belief in me when I don’t believe in myself. You will truly never know what a positive impact you have had on my life.
All my Love and Blessings to you.
We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly sitting and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, ‘Hi.’ He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment.
I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose pants were baggy and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled.. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists.. ‘Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy. I see ya,’ the man said to Erik.
My husband and I exchanged looks.
Erik continued to laugh and answer, ‘Hi.’ Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, ‘Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo?’
Nobody thought the old man was cute. My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.
We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. ‘Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me,’ I prayed. As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby’s ‘pick-me-up’ position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man.
Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love and kinship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man’s ragged shoulder. The man’s eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby’s bottom and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time.
I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, ‘You take care of this baby.’
Somehow I managed, ‘I will,’ from a throat that contained a stone.
He pried Erik from his chest, lovingly and longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, ‘God bless you, ma’am, you’ve given me my Christmas gift.’
I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, ‘Please God, forgive me.’
I had just witnessed Christ’s love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not. I felt it was God asking, ‘Are you willing to share your son for a moment?’ when He shared His for all eternity. How did God feel when he put his baby in our arms 2000 years ago.
The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, ‘To enter the Kingdom of God , we must become as little children.’
Your true self is not the clothes on your back, or the car you drive, it is how you treat your fellow man that identifies who you are.
This one is a keeper.
I wrote this in an email today and decided it was a great quote. So here is the quote of the day, by me.