This morning Jane and I spoke of her mother who visited for Thanksgiving. Her mother told her she had an epiphany when she was standing outside one day unsure of what to do: library, coffee, home. A young woman came up to her and asked if she needed help, and she thought about it and answered that yes, she would appreciate help to her car. She realized then she was old.
I sit sometimes with what the gift of nine months of treatment for cancer taught me. One gift was learning to receive, learning that I couldn't do things alone, not that I had been, but I had to acknowledge dependence, how intertwined we all are. I was confronted with mortality. It is not there for me every moment of every day. I would like to cultivate more awareness of it, and it is there for me in a way it wasn't before. I am grateful for that, for knowing the gift of the tides, and that one day there will be one high enough to slip me on out, like a clam loosened from its shell.
For today, I am here,and reverently so. I love life and birds and me and you.