After dropping our oldest off at school today, and making a quick stop at a friend's house and Dad's grave, and having no co-pilot for the drive home, I had a chance to mull over the words that have been swirling in my head for days without synthesizing enough to come out well.
On Friday, I tried two or three times to express what was in my head. The best I could do was my last post, which looked exactly like what I wanted to say, but looked far different, and had a far different feel than that which I usually write and post. Oh, well, that happens, and is a part of who I am; how I create, balance, flow.
Today, though, the key to tying the swirling words was the visit to Dad. I don't always stop when I'm in the area, and there are arguments for and against in my mind and my heart every time. Honestly, I'm not interested in what other people think I should do. I stop when I feel the need.When I do stop, it's not because I have any feeling that he's "there" more than he's anywhere else. It's more that I need to be in a specific place in my history in order to find something there. Clumsily, I could equate it to a pilgrimage: I'm going there to feel a connection between past and present, and only his headstone can be the portkey. On the pedestal, I found an ornament: a cross, with the words "Prayer Heals," left by someone since the last time I was there. Peeking behind the headstone, I chuckled that there is still a circle of dust where the bottle of wine left by my sister (who later asked me to remove it) had been hidden by the caretaker.
Prayer Heals.
Over the past week and a half, I have been participating in a Consecration to Mary, and Wednesday, this question was posed: Why are you here? What made you decide to do this? I've been thinking about it ever since--truthfully, I had been wondering before the question was asked aloud. I'd been struggling with an answer, because the quick and easy answer is that I am doing it because Mom is. I know that's not entirely true, because I had decided to get the book before Mom said she wanted to go, too. So, why? (The questioner, incidentally, was not looking for an answer; this is for my own benefit.)
After my visit, listening to Jeff Cavins (I highly recommend), Jason Mraz and David Cook (favorite song twice) while driving from the top of the state to the bottom, I was able to put together many of my thoughts. First of all, I've always had lots of questions. For a long time, I equated having questions to a lack of faith. Over the past few years, I have come to believe that what I really lack is understanding and knowledge--two things that bug me about anything I'm involved in. Therefore, my questions must be connected more to a desire for understanding, a thirst for knowledge, and a desire for a deeper faith. That's why I'm there: I want to see if I can find some answers, if I can get closer to goodness, faith, sainthood.
Lofty goals, but what better way to be a better person? Shouldn't goals be lofty? I have nothing to lose. I've worked on and developed balance in myself, in my life, and I've been getting this close all the time. So the next step is to focus on my spirit, my soul. Having life crises will do that for you: it makes you look at where you are, analyze it, take stock of the good, the bad and the ugly, and rearrange, reprioritize and reorganize. I'm opening, blooming, growing, developing.
A little late, maybe, but better late than never.
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