I have arrived at a place in my life that most everyone reaches. Watching helplessly as my parents age and follow the path that will lead to the end of their time here. It has been more than difficult for me and for all of my siblings, and theirs. The last few years have brought changes in health and emotional well-being that (at one time in my life) I never thought possible. My friends and acquaintances as well, relate stories very much like mine. We seek comfort in one another, knowing that we have all become members of the same undesirable club. Looking for ways to allow comfort and dignity to the people who gave us life, raised us and then released us to the world to follow our own paths.
Increasingly I find myself lost in thought about where I came from and where I still travel to in my life. I question my mortality and theirs. Why does it have to be such a difficult road to travel? Does everyone have to be ill or in pain to finish their life? Why don't doctors have the answers? Why can't I find answers for them?
My parents' generation considered doctors and priests more than human. They were the answers. They were always right; take this pill, say this prayer, do this, don't do that. And now after such a long time we find that they are human just like we are. They don't have the answers we need. They are struggling to find them, just as we are. We have put so much responsibility on them all that there is no way to succeed and they are afraid to say, "I don't know".
The past 3 years or so have been spent in waiting rooms, doctor's offices, hospital emergency rooms and solitary prayer. The answers don't come and I find myself struggling to make sense of this natural and yet unnatural journey from birth to death. I try to shield my family and at the same time prepare them for what will come. I struggle to maintain a positive outlook and sometimes succeed and sometimes fail.
The one thing I have learned is that, no matter how hard I try to have control of what will happen, I truly cannot control the outcome of most any situation. Life/death will happen and I will bear witness, but I will not have control.
So I take up my yarn and needles, beads and glass, and make them a tool of my prayers. I reflect on the wonderful things I have had and hope to still have in my life. The people I cherish and love. I knit their stories and bead their smiles into my simple offerings and hope that in my small quiet way I am honoring them; those I know, have known and will know in my lifetime.
I try always to breath positive energy and love into every stitch, every bead. If I have difficulty banishing the negative feelings and energy I set aside the piece so as not to taint it.
Negative energy is for cleaning. I wash, dust and scrub away as much of it as I can. Rake, shovel, scrape, paint, sort, throw away, polish and shine. Once I have exorcised the "dark" and I feel the "light" I can return to the craft.
So why do we do these things? the knitting, the sewing, the beading the singing and dancing? Probably so the light will never leave our hearts for long. You may not see me on my knees in a pew, but you can be sure that if I gift you with something I have made with my hands, I have prayed each bead, each stitch, each note.
My heart is heavy today but I took, comfort in my needles and fibers. You may not be able to know the story when you hold this piece, but perhaps some of the spirit that helped me craft it will make your heart smile.
No comments:
Post a Comment