Love sorrow. She is yours now, and you must

take care of what has been

given. Brush her hair, help her

into her little coat, hold her hand,

especially when crossing a street. For, think,

what if you should lose her? Then you would be

sorrow yourself; her drawn face, her sleeplessness

would be yours. Take care, touch

her forehead that she feel herself not so

utterly alone. And smile, that she does not

altogether forget the world before the lesson.

Have patience in abundance. And do not

ever lie or ever leave her even for a moment

by herself, which is to say, possibly, again,

abandoned. She is strange, mute, difficult,

sometimes unmanageable but, remember, she is a child.

And amazing things can happen. And you may see,

as the two of you go

walking together in the morning light, how

little by little she relaxes; she looks about her;

she begins to grow."

— Mary Oliver, Red Bird

The
above poem was shared with me and another friend with the accompanying message, "This is helping me as I struggle with some old demons".  Our friend offered her insight, "Very poignant poem, could be said for other emotions and
feelings as well".  Yes, she replied, "What a wonderful
metaphor of self-acceptance".

In
his recent Journal entry Erie Chapman encouraged our community to look at childhood
images to reawaken our "truest self" and he cautioned us not to "crush the
truth, freshness and awe with which your child eyes saw the world" (Days
160-164 Finding Yourself, June 10, 2013).

This
past week, my son Lee and I visited my  mom, who in her 97th year has lived
nearly a century. During our time together we reminisced amid a gallery of
photos and strolled through a legacy of family memories.

My
parents knew a secret. My father was never happier nor more whole than when
in the company of family and friends. Although an only child himself, he fathered
six children and together my parents created many enduring and fond remembrances. They lived simple pleasures in gatherings around table with food, stories, music and the good times of being together.  Often, friends and relatives would join our family vacations at the seaside or in nature to soak up sunshine, fresh air and idle conversation.

I
miss that era of relaxation, which was an art of its own. In this increasingly virtual age of technology one can sometimes
feel so alone and anonymous while living in a city of thousands.

Today, as I leave my mom to return home I look into her eyes once
last time and we give each other a hug and we kiss. "Parting is such sweet
sorrow".  In this moment, I am keenly aware of how our lives are continually passing and  how precious our love is for one another. 

 I see a child’s love reflected in her eyes… and I am sustained by gratitude.

Let us never deny or leave unspoken our love for each other but rather treasure, nurture and celebrate the gift that we share.

~liz
Sorensen Wessel

Photo
by my father, Phil Sorensen