I am laying in my bed in my new home – a wonderful two-bedroom apartment that will allow me to have visitors for tea and even for overnight. The view is spectacular. I am on the eighth floor, overlooking the river. I watch the ducks and geese skim down and land in the water. In the winter I will probably be able to watch skaters glide by. I look forward to moving forward here.
Since chemo and the fatigue from the cancer itself have done weird things to my brain, I do find myself not always on top of things the way I would like. Today is a perfect example of that. The movers came and packed up the truck with my stuff. We were ready to head over to the new place. I went to get my car and house keys and I could not find them. I felt dread rise from my toes all the way to my throat. What was I wearing last night? I thought desperately and could feel a bit of panic. I turned to the movers and confessed: My apartment keys are packed in the pocket of a sweater in one of the suitcases. Without batting an eye, one of them asked me if I knew which one it was in and then we proceeded to fish it out from one of the farthest corners, behind all of the other things that had been packed. It took three tries to unearth the right suitcase but we did it. I had said a little prayer to Saint Anthony to help us out. I also know that there were a lot of people praying today that the move would go well. I felt those prayers in action a couple of times during the day.
At one point, one of the movers asked me why I was moving. For whatever reason, I told him the truth. My rickety old furniture and disorganization had embarrassed me, I suppose. I had had plans to get new furniture before all this happened and it was another letting go. I told him that given the outlook on my life span, that did not make sense any longer. I will be a granola girl living in a swanky apartment without the fancy fixings. As we were talking, I became slightly emotional. He was compassionate and at the end of the move he wished me peace. I could tell that our brief interaction had affected him.
What I do hope to fill this condo with is kindness, compassion, and joy. I hope that it will be a place where family and friends will build good memories, with lots of laughter and honest conversations. I also hope that it will be a space to be creative. I want to start to write more. I have missed writing my blog posts on a regular basis. I pray too that it will be a place of rest and restoration, not only for me but all who come through my door.
The hour is late and the day has been very long. I must sleep. I look forward to this new adventure. Thank you to all those who have helped me arrive here in this new space, whether by prayer over a long distance – or even a short line – or by physically assisting with the move by packing, moving, cooking, and cleaning. You have been a blessing to me and my heart is very grateful as I turn off my light.
How has prayer upheld to you during a time of transition?
As you do your Examen, what do you find your heart grateful for?
Loving God, you have set my feet on a new adventure. May I bring you to it and through it. Amen.