On the second prayer, Thanks:
It's a distillation of what she's written, I know, and by no means a complete treatise, but still, my breath caught when I read this passage because I asked myself what happens when you've lost a son (or a daughter, or a mother or father, or a spouse--all of us have lost someone or something important, I know). Or what happens when the diagnosis is not such a great one and you find yourself facing the end of your life way sooner than you expected?"Thanks is the prayer of relief that help was on the way. ... It can be [the] pettiest, dumbest thing, but it could also be that you get the phone call that the diagnosis was much, much, much better than you had been fearing. ... The full prayer, and its entirety, is: Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. But for reasons of brevity, I just refer to it as Thanks. "It's amazement and relief that you caught a break; that your family caught a break; that you didn't have any reason to believe that things were really going to be OK, and then they were and you just can't help but say thank you."
I don't know what my son's future might have held. What I know right now, today, is that it's tough not having him around and I miss him a lot. I can say "thanks" for the time I had to love him and to be around him and to have him love us. I've certainly said "help" many times in the past year or so.
And really, now that it is coming up on a year since we lost him, I can almost say "Wow" with a quiet sense of reverence. I have survived but it is a tough road to walk.
That prayer, in all it's "eloquence", is certainly familiar...
ReplyDeleteIt most definitely is, Rach!
DeleteOh dear...this is sad and beautiful. I am so sorry. I am also glad that you are still moving forward.
ReplyDeleteMindy, thank you.
DeleteI really like the poem, Annie, and Anne Lamott is another of my favorite authors. Will have to check out the book....
ReplyDeleteThe poem is one of my recent favorites, Jim.
DeleteOkay, I keep erasing my comments because they aren't coming out right. (What can you say to a mom who has lost her son that doesn't sound trite?) Just know that I was here, that I read what you said, and that I am blessed to have done so.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Julie. Your presence here is appreciated and words are not necessarily needed.
DeleteLife has been brutal, but you didn't hide from it. You kept walking, and breathing, and believing, and questioning. You are amazing.
ReplyDelete<3
D
Thank you, Denise. You are my encourager.
DeleteBeautiful. You continue to bless us and grace us with your vulnerable, authentic and honest telling of your heart stories.
ReplyDeleteThanks. Wow.
<3
Much love...
Thank you, Beth. It's hard, and sometimes I can't believe I am being so honest.
DeleteDeep and right to the heart. There are those days I am grateful for Anne Lamott because she can say what I cannot. I cannot reach in and find the words.
ReplyDeleteI know you have had a tremendous journey, one none of us would really choose. But you did so with such honestly and grace. I think we all look at our own live differently through your sharing of yours.
I think you are brave and strong Diane. Even when you don't feel it or see it... you can't touch it and know it's there. And too, I think that Tyler would want you to do exactly what you are doing. All in love and compassion for others.
Thank you from my whole heart.
Thank you, Lori, from one traveler on a rough path to another.
Deletevery moving post ... It seems we are both grieving from the passing of someone dear to us. Sending you strength during these holidays.
ReplyDeleteThank you. I will remember you through the holidays too.
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