A CHRISTMAS TEAR

 Not everyone is filled with cheer on the holidays. I just wanted to take time to honor that part of the holiday too, the part that touches those tender spots in our hearts. Here is my attempt at expressing that experience. I send hugs to all those who are grieving and lonely this Christmas. 

A CHRISTMAS TEAR

A tear ran down her cheek

Red patches decorated her face

From rubbing and sobbing

These decorations we often avoid

On holidays and anniversaries

Thinking ourselves incapable of moving on

When in fact every tear is a baptizing of our love

And every rub an effort to hug those we can no longer touch

Grief is a part of the holidays too

A time when those we have loved so deeply and so long

Are more clearly missing from the family gathering

The stark reminder catches our breath

We can no longer ignore what the hearts wants

So we let go a tear or two or fifty

Breathe deeply into that place in our lungs

Our voice offering “I miss you so much”

Our soul relieved to speak the truth in love

Honoring the whole holiday

Not just the cakes and candles and music

But the quiet, dark, sweetness of our grief and longing

And in that moment, we are finally able to light the candle

And let the gift of this relationship still hold us

Allowing the sacredness of this moment to be enough

 

December 25, 2022

Jules Bonde

Grounded: Day 6

Grounding My Self in the Morning:

It's 7:40 a.m. . The sun has just come up and it's shining on my face as I drink my tea and read my book. I've just finished some eggs and toast and almond milk. I've had many mornings like this, hundreds, maybe thousands. And each time the sun comes up and my lips touch the cup of tea and my eyes open to a new day and my ears listen to the silence around the ringing in my ears, my heart feels that tingle, that invitation.

Every new morning grounds me in new beginnings, in the taste and flavor of breakfast, and in the light and quiet of the new day. This is my time, my favorite time of day.

On the downside, I wish I could do everything I want to do in this moment of openness and hope, that I wouldn't need all those hours and minutes to get it all in. I know that by three in the afternoon, I won't feel as energized. On the downside I wish you were here with me to share this moment. And in that thought, tears of gratitude and sorrow both run down my cheeks. I'm grateful to have such a person as you in my life and I'm sorry I can't share this with you right now.

But on the plus side there's so much possibility in this day. And who knows? maybe I'll see you? or talk to you? or have a moment to write? And who knows? maybe there's some unexpected joy in it? And who knows where this the day will take us? And who knows? Maybe this is the day you discover love and I discover strength or a new way to get it all done?

Welcome to my morning! I hope your day is filled with hope, joy, peace and that some moment, like this one, grounds you in Love.

Blessings on you,
Jules

A week wrapped in love and a "rain-set"

Last night's "rain-set" (a combination of rain and sunset) was spectacular. Here is a photo of the sunset through the gentle rain that had fallen all afternoon ( out my book door). As Pete and I stood on our back steps and watched, I kept thinking that this was a week wrapped in love and prayer. The sun and rain helped me see that. Let me explain.

I have to back up a ways. At the end of June, our son noticed a bump on Pete's neck which we decided should be checked out. then there was a doc visit, an ENT visit, a CT scan, a biopsy and an ultrasound. On August 4, Pete was diagnosed with papillary thyroid cancer. That whole first week after the diagnosis, I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. It took all my strength to not jump to horrible conclusions. And actually the news was good. This is a cancer with a 95% cure rate, even after 20 years. And Pete is one of the healthiest people I know. But I've been down the path that runs through the shadow of death before and I've lost people, including my 11 year old son Hans (in 2000). Just because everything looks good doesn't mean it is. I know this truth in my bones and deep in my heart. So I reached out for support and prayers because no matter how things turn out, life is just better when the community focuses on blessing and supporting each other.

On Wednesday, September 14, (just two days ago) Pete had his surgery at the U of M hospital with the same surgeon who did my parathyroid surgery 5 years ago. This helped give me confidence in the outcome. I totally trusted Dr. Evasovich. Then on the day of surgery, my friend Cheryl, and Pete's sister Kris (and later my children) joined me in the family waiting room. It was a long, long day which included a 3-hour delay before the surgery started. But we weren't wrong about Dr. Evasovich. She did a great job taking out his thyroid and several lymph nodes as well as avoiding all the risks of nerve damage. She even caught an extra problem in one of Pete's parathyroids and removed that.

All the while, I knew people were praying and sending love and holding us tenderly in their hearts. It was exhausting to wait but inside, at the center, I felt a peace that passes all understanding. It was similar to something I had felt before when our son Hans got brain cancer...the mystery of beauty in the midst of pain and chaos, the mystery of how people can hold one another with love.

Yesterday, Thursday, I brought Pete home from the hospital around noon with every hope that he will fully recover. He has a very sore throat but was able to eat and spent most of the afternoon resting. And then in the evening a very sweet thing happened. There was this poetic movement of the sun echoing off of every raindrop as it sank into the horizon. Yellow and orange filled the sky as the rain continued to fall. I couldn't help but think this is what happens when everyone prays...the light shines and echoes off of every teardrop, every deep sigh. Tears wrapped in love turn to gratitude and joy. This is another truth sinking deep into my bones. Light and love change everything, even a week spent fighting cancer.

So I offer my gratitude to God, to all of you, to the mystery of how love can make a rain-set appear on your back steps at the end of day full of struggle. Thank you for wrapping my week in love!

Love, jules ~ 9/16/16

Winning the Lottery!

July 21, 2016

In 1959 I was born into a beautiful and loving family. I am just so grateful that I landed there. My parents were in their forties, about 10 to 15 years older than my friends and peers. My siblings, (all 5 of them) were off at boarding school, 700 miles away. [my parents were Lutheran missionaries on the island of Madagascar from 1948 to 1976 and boarding school was part of that experience] My mom and I flew down to introduce me to them when I was 6 weeks old, the first of many attempts at family reunions--with intention to be family together. But as it turned out, we never really did live together except for a few vacations here and there. There weren't as many gatherings as we wanted. Like the others, I went to boarding school too, when i was in first grade and on from there. And then after college, each of us in turn spread our wings and flew far and wide and now live in 5 different states and coast to coast.

As I look back over the last 57 years, there have been a lot of tear-filled nights and days, longing for my family, wishing I could live with them and praying that one day, I would have a family to really belong to. This being apart has influenced both my mistakes and my wholehearted decisions. It's been my deepest pain and most exquisite gift.

Three weeks ago was our most recent family reunion. We all (all 6 of us siblings) came together (plus a few spouses and children) to spend a week together. It was amazing! It was loving and it was, for a few days, that feeling of family. We did more story-telling than ever before. We spent more time together. I found myself returning to that deep gratitude, for landing there, in that place 57 years ago. We've all grown up a lot, we're all in our wisdom years and now in addition to loving each other, we have the grace to just be together and enjoy the moments when we can. I am filled with love and gratitude for that week.

I can't stop  there though. I have to include another reunion that happened the week before when I spent a week with 7 women that I have known since birth as all of us grew at boarding school together, all of us close to the same age. We had a reunion at one of their homes and spent a week, laughing, talking, crying and just wallowing in this space of friendship and this feeling of family; adopted family. I can't believe the kindness and support and generosity I felt that week. I can only begin to express my gratitude for that.

And there's more! because after both of these reunions I went to practice with my hospice/comfort choir [Morning Star Singers]. And in those first few notes of harmony, I felt so at home, more myself perhaps than I feel anywhere else in the world. This is my tribe too, these gorgeous hearts that live so lovingly, that blend so beautifully, that fight to keep kindness and peace int he world with their presence.

And there's even more! In a few days, I will celebrate 35 years of wonderful, joyful, amazing marriage and friendship with my husband Pete. I can't believe I got so lucky! he is truly one of earth's most treasured gifts. And with him came another entire clan who took me in and cared for me. And with him came our beautiful children and grandchildren. In addition I have great friends who have stood by me through thick and thin.

I feel today as if I've won some secret lottery. And like any winner I am crying with tears of joy. I've won it all! --Family, partnership, marriage, friends and time to enjoy them!

How many ways is there to say thank you? and grateful? I thought perhaps this old picture of me would do the trick. In honor of all those who have touched my heart and my life, I raise my hands to the heavens!

Thank you!

The Gift of the Lonely Day

I wrote my last post a couple weeks ago on a day when all of the loneliness came crashing in around me; all the grief and sadness, all the loss. I just took a bath in my tears that day. It was definitely a superb pity-party and all just for me; kinda self-centered of me. But something wonderful came from that day.

In the middle of the day, I was eating lunch in my car alone from a hill overlooking the city. Even though it was midday, I was already exhausted from the tears. As I looked on the city I have lived in and loved for three decades I was thinking about all the wonderful people I know who live here; all the beautiful people. My my mind wandered through the list and then stopped for a moment on one particular friend; a friend I had been disconnected from for years. I had tried several times in different ways to get her to meet with me; always leaving it in her court, "let me know when you want to get together." Each time, nothing happened. Each time, I got more discouraged. But I couldn't shake the longing to be reconnected.

Then suddenly I had a new thought. Here I am lonely, sad and sobbing away and I've got nothing to lose, at least not at this moment! I mean if I try one more time and she says, "no!" will I feel worse? So I grabbed my cell phone and sent her a text. "you want to get together for lunch some time?" And she said YES. so two days later, I found myself having lunch with my old friend. It was amazing. The years have changed us both. the losses have changed us both but there was beauty and joy in the connection.  I was suddenly so grateful for that moment of despair a few days earlier and for the whisper of wisdom to try one more time with no expectation of succeeding. And I was grateful for "texting" on my cell phone that it possible for me to invite her in the simplest of fashions.

Conclusion: though it is hard to see the benefit when swimming in your own lake of darkness, there often is grace and gift in giving in to our vulnerability, to our weakness.

Blessing: may you, my dear friends, return from your dark days with "fists full of jewels." (from Barbara McAfee's song) May your tears be the rain that quenches your thirsty soul, may your grief turn to joy and grace.

Blessings on you all,

jules