Praying your Goodbyes

Praying your goodbyes

I think I know how Rembrandt and Beethoven must’ve felt when their health declined to the point that they had to give up their life’s passion. Music for Beethoven and painting for Rembrandt.

As MS continues to do the jig, more pieces fall away and I’m finding I have to get more and more creative on how to repurpose the leftovers into a something new, something I can get excited and enthusiastic about.

With the left hand down to 2% strength and 1% agility, the right hand has taken over for several years now, but even that one has shown signs that are cause for concern. But God is so good and kind and generous with his grace to inspire anew. And send angels along the way to reassure me I’m not alone.

There’s a lady here in the building that mentioned in passing how she thrilled she was that she discovered riding the city bus to a restaurant downtown that helps clear her head, provides herself with a much needed get-away. Sounding pretty good to me, I later sought her out to ask if I could join her sometime and we exchanged numbers.

A few days later I ran into her in the hallway where we connected immediately. She knew. Being in a similar emotional place that day, we were able to cut through the pleasantries to the pain. How real and un-intimidated the conversation was. She too has conditions she has to deal with, including hand issues.

Feeling bad about ourselves and our ability to ‘do’ things can wear a person flat. We get it. And grieving the losses together is an important step, so having someone that knows and shares the same pain is such a gift. And when one realizes its not so much about ‘doing’ as ‘being’, the beautiful flashlight of hope begins to shine. We shared a little and talked about going on that outing together.

My whole MO in life is to not allow circumstances take me down. An old-timer in a neighbourhood house I once worked in had a line. “There’s two kinds of people in this world: those that bounce and those that splatter.” I wanted to be a bounce person. Meeting this new gal with hand issues got me thinking there’s no better person to show share a few tips with. In the next conversation we talked about the simple task of turning the page in a book or putting socks on. She doesn’t realize what a gift of hope she brought to me as I navigate new waters. It might even help give her sense of value for just being her, that our worth isn’t wrapped up in our ‘doing’.

Another incident that happened that filled me with joy was with the grocery store clerk the other day. He’s a she, and didn’t look like she was having a good morning. I agreed and told her I too was having a tough morning. (Funny how we pick up on those things). I asked her what her name was and she replied ‘Cloud’ as in the sky. 

I told her about my chariot painting – I tried to make a chariot out of clouds and asked her if she would like to see it one day, I could bring a picture. She lit up and said ‘yes, please’. That in itself was a beam of light, but when I got home I remembered a mini card (I make these mini cards) with the caption “This too shall pass” with the image of cumulus clouds I once did. It was perfect.

I quickly addressed her by name, hoped her day got better and signed my name. I made a another trip back but she was busy with customers with a long line so I just slipped it to her from the back end. I got a slight smile crossed with a puzzled look as she tucked it away. I don’t know if it made her day or not, but she made my day, by just being real.

So back Beethoven and Rembrandt – I’m grateful for masters like them who continued on with their creativity despite limitations and are terrific examples to inspire folks like me.