I have had my share of discomfort this past week. Nothing brings out the best and worst in family members like a good crisis.
And I can feel my spirit percolating throughout it all.
I was told once: “Every time you cry, you let a little more God in.” This may be true. The more tears I shed at my mother’s hospital bedside, the calmer I am about her situation, the more rational I can be in making decisions, the easier it is for me to tend to her, the more compassion I have for her other loved ones who are also grieving her situation.
My days prioritize themselves. I go to the hospital every morning and every evening, and sometimes in between. Everything else has to conform to that schedule. Today is my grandson’s 6th birthday party, and that will be a delightfully welcome respite, with my two kids and five grandsons there, including the 6-month-old twins.
And my spirit, wide awake, active and percolating, will be there, too.
As my days prioritize themselves, I see that I have no time for those whose guilt has made them angry. I just… don’t.
And more interesting yet, is the way my complex relationship with my mother — always stormy, rocky and intense — has begun to resolve itself the way a good novel wraps itself up into a very satisfying ending. She’s not changing, I am, and that is the result of my percolating spirit.
“Spirit percolates in discomfort.” Dr. Eunice Schroeder said that to our class last month, and I’m finding it to be true.
When life goes along smoothly, it’s a gentle ride. But when things get intense, as they do periodically, I’m finding that it’s a good thing to have spirit on my team.
I don’t mind a little discomfort. And I’m learning to find the good in a bad situation before retrospect kicks in.
Here it is. Resolution. Family gathering in grief and uncertainty. Compassion.
A percolating spirit.