An Instrument of Peace

For weeks, I had a deep urge to call my father. Finally, last week, I did and found that he was not doing well. I am thankful for the freedom to pack and travel to see about him. As I have other commitments, I left today, returning to my home. This morning, while I was stripping the bed for the next guest, the Prayer of St. Francis came to mind. Each morning I choose a chant to lead my meditation and agreed to follow this inclination. Standing before the bed, praying, I realized that an instrument of peace was most necessary in a time of war, conflict, dissension, or distress.

In that moment, I was thinking about the siblings who would follow me and how we purpose to leave and arrive at staggered dates thereby avoiding conflict, angst, or confrontation. And here I am praying to be an instrument of peace. When I am asked about this arrangement, I generally reply that I am praying for love and compassion around this situation. I figure there may come a moment when we will all stand together, but it is not this day.

I arrived to find my father weary. He drove up just as I was contemplating how to get into the house. My brother had traveled from the west coast and they were just back from the hospital with news that my mother's passing is imminent. Her liver has shut down and they have narrowed her time to days. My father, weary, distraught, and broken merely said, they don't know. It's in God's hands. He slowly moved across the room leaning on the table for support as he made his way toward a corner chair. The doctors want all the family gathered around. He is resistant. (At this point, we have all come to visit.)

Each step along this journey brings me a deeper understanding of the world I lived in and the trauma we endured before escape. Only the visiting brother and myself left home without return. Only the children born outside of September have heirs or families (that we know). We are each carrying a different perspective of what the death of the matriarch will mean.

Along my personal journey I have been committed to a daily practice of reading The Prophet, reflecting on the selection and journaling, chanting and praying, moving my body and focusing on clean foods. Most days I am happy and satisfied with nuts and seeds. When I take in warm foods a trigger trips and I find I am famished. These last days have taken an emotional toll. I can see it in my face and feel it in my body.

I am returned to my space and relax in the peace I have created here. I will return again to my father's house to be a blessing there. Wherever you are on this journey between dust and the return to dust, find joy and be blessed.

Namaste