As summer drew to the end, before school started, I went to Samuel in tears, “I don’t have a purpose!” I lamented.
Samuel, usually quiet unless describing the way a motor works, said quietly, “That changes.”
Sometimes this quiet man blows me away with his wise insight, and rare sharing. Yes, our purpose changes. I’m sure he must be wondering what his is now that his main one, the wage earner, has completed and come to an end.
I dry my tears. And go about my day with the comfort that another soul understood.
And finally the school busses roll, and my three year old grand-daughter comes three mornings a week. The best and most fun part-job I’ve had or will have, has resumed. I have purpose. I know how to do this. I got this. One thing I know how to do is be there for a child, anticipating their needs because I’m open, wide open to them. And conscientious. And caring. And able to freely love.
This little girl who looks like me. Her mother and two aunts have deep dark beautiful hair. But this little girl’s hair is golden. Like mine was. And I can spoil her, and love her, and snap my head back to the present, because she needs me present.
Yesterday she asked me into the little pool in our back yard. Why not. It looks so inviting on a 90+ degree day. So in we go, dunking our whole bodies and heads, singing, drumming the water, kicking our feet and laughing. Our sweaty skins were refreshed after walking our ‘babies’ with our strollers. And I stayed cool the rest of the day long after she left.
My chest hurts, and is scratchy with pain from the repeated woundings and the knowledge that speaking up to those who do not want to hear my truths, means they turn their backs on me because of it. These feelings will pass. And in the meantime, I take the day back and make it mine. I find joy, and hope, and love…
Seize the Day…we don’t know how many we have…