I am so bad!

After a little trip to the yarn store I don’t know when (hum de dum dum dum…) I found a couple of balls of Encore in some cool colors and decided to knit a little hooded thingie for Ruby:) I also have some hot pink/red yarn to do the same for Madison. It’s a very easy pattern for a top-down raglan sweater and the hood was easy as pie. I even brought it with me to choir praxis last Saturday and got precious little done on it:) Vivaldi for a newbie tenor is a bit of a challenge. It’s funny, Nancy doesn’t know how musically retarded I am sometimes. I’m still so used to hearing the alto line that I fail to pick out the tenor voice even when I’m surrounded by tenors!

Am still working on the Nina shawl cum baby blankie (no folks, that is not a dirty word you only see on porno sites, LOL – and don’t look at me in that tone of voice!) And I am also working on the prayer shawl – it’s been awhile and somebody can certainly use one, I’m sure. It would also be nice to finish the FLAK sweater and, oh, I don’t know, finish a few other UFOs???? But then there’s work to do, and that business of liking a roof over my head and at least a couple of meals now and then (as if I didn’t have my share of those, LOL).

It’s been over a week since I last posted anything remotely interesting (those quizilla things don’t count). Well, it’s a typical thursday evening for me, I guess. Had court this AM. Colleague covered the PM docket (well she might after malingering the better part of two weeks – oy – don’t get me started!) After court, I got to go on a walk with my favorite diabetes expert:) (Sadly, I needed her able services for a client of mine.) I just wish she didn’t have to be one. But it was too damn cold for words, let alone walking. It’s been about 5 hours and I’m still cold. I think it was the wind.

After that, I went home, had some fruit for lunch (that’s really new for me) and then off to a visit in beautiful downtown Curtis Bay, Baltimore. Clients who are happy to be home with Mom. My favorite kind of visit.

Now I am waiting to go to choir – will need to leave a little early – have to fill the gas tank and get some cash for tomorrow’s fun and frolic. Hopefully the ATM will be talking to me!

Before I go on my merry way, I thought I’d share something: Last night was EfM class. We did what they call a Theological Reflection. I shared a story about one of my kids that I hadn’t really thought much about for over 7 years now. Hadn’t thought about it because it is still too huge to think about. Suffice it to say that it was a recounting of the day when we almost lost one of our daughters and our granddaughter. Bare outline of the story: Our daughter called me to tell me she was pregnant. I stayed calm and we talked for a bit and I volunteered to tell her father. I called him – woke him up (he works nights). He was fine – said to have her call him. She calls him while on the job. A customer comes into the store, she puts phone down on counter instead of on hold. She is robbed at gunpoint. Her Dad calls 911 from the othe phone line. Intruder leaves. She is safe. What if we hadn’t been supportive/accepting/non-judgmental? What if she had reacted emotionally? What if he had decided not to leave a witness behind? Don’t go there….. Of course the EfM class was in an environment where we have a rule of confidentiality, else I wouldn’t have necessarily told it as thoroughly as I did. The questions and observations my fellow classmates made were stunning. I am still trying to process it. No, I didn’t cry or get hysterical or anything weird like that, just came away with a sense of the absolute sovereignty of God. And another realization…
Over the years since my mother died so young, I’ve often wondered at stories others have had about dreams and other visitations from dead relatives – and I’ve been frankly envious and fearful at the same time. I’ve often felt that my mother probably had nothing to disturb her as innocent as she probably was – or wasn’t, LOL:) There was a time in my life when I was actually foolish enough to think my mother was too cool to really care about the kids she left behind. I thought that because as a child, I usually only saw her wild and crazy sense of humor, very occasional irritation at the annoyances of everyday life, and her quiet caring for her friends and family. I now of course know that to be a silly bunch of nonsense, especially since I have been a mother now longer than my own mother was alive!
I realized as I recounted the story of what happened that fateful day that my mother, though long dead, gave me a beautiful gift. The story involves generations of incidents and learning from them. I truly believe she was praying for me, her granddaughter and her great-granddaughter to be from the first thing that morning to the last thing that night. So much depends on our choices, but ultimately so much depends on the sovereignty of God. And indeed, life on this earth is so fragile! What still astounds me is the lack of emotion I feel as I type this. Normally, nothing can stop the tears when I talk or write about my mother. Yet, the gift for me is I can reflect on what happened without the pain and suffering that brings on the tears. OK, now I “see as through a glass darkly,” but I do occasionaly get glimpses of what it will be like to be “known as I am known.”
The puzzle of that story started to unravel and as we picked up the pieces of the puzzle and replaced them, the picture became clearer and took on greater dimension. There was so much going on, inside, outside, past, present, and all with the sense of connectedness I feel when God makes herself known and present in life.
It has been years since I have been able to really think about what happened that day. And decades since I’ve felt the presence of God so palpably!

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