Monday, April 5, 2010

It is Well in my Soul

Read a nice book: 'The Solace of Open Spaces' by Gretel Ehrlich

Things are settling down, just as things always settle down. Hip is better. This week, I will hang out with my old friend and play scrabble.

Remember in the beginning of all of this when I told you that a woman from our church had announced that she was pregnant? With twins? And I couldn't hug her, because I'd had some scan and was slightly radioactive? And then we had to go to Pittsburgh, to McGee Women's Hospital later that week, and cruising around hopelessly looking for someone to vacate a parking place so that we could take it, we saw Steve and Jen? And I was able to jump out of the car and hug her in congratulations? Plus they were leaving so they gave us their parking spot? Remember? No? Well. Anyways, I got to hold one of those babies during church. She was wide awake and kicking her little pink shoe off a couple times, following every sound, just as content as she could be. At one point, her father leaned across her mother to ask if I wanted a break. "Nope," I said. "This is a real treat for me." And he said, wistfully, "So what are you doing at four in the morning?"

Anyhow, I can't explain it really. It was Easter morning, and the baby was so sweet and happy. She cooed and giggled and chewed on her toy and drank her bottle and did all those things that babies do. I just had this sense of inevitability. Babies come, lives are lived, people die...it is the way of it. It is simply the way of it. I believe that all of this fits into a bigger framework. I don't understand the why of it. But then again, that is not my job. So I played with that happy baby, and I listened to the sermon on resurrection. I went forward for communion, and the words were spoken as they have been spoken for over two thousand years: 'Do this in remembrance of Me'. I stopped to let the baby look at the array of spring flowers and Easter lilies on the way back to our pew, and to let her marvel at the way the sun shone through the stained glass window. Her little hand reached out in wonder, her little eyes taking it all in, and it was well in my soul.

14 comments:

BUSH BABE said...

Clear and simple. Babies rock. You weave words so wonderously Ms D. Hugs...
:-)
BB

Brianna said...

This is one of your better ones, Mom... poetic, and simply beautiful. Love you! : )

Mrs.Spit said...

Thank you. That was a breath of cool, fresh air.

Karen said...

Babies are our most precious gifts from God. Absolutely. Thanks for the reminder, Debby.

Linda (PA_shutterbug) said...

Nice post, Debby. I like how you led up to holding the baby in the church. I also liked how your described how you felt holding the baby. OH, and I like to play scrabble too :-)

Redlefty said...

Simple moments like that are the best! Thank you for being open to it.

Mikey said...

Aww, that made my heart sing :) Babies are the best for putting things in perspective.
The father, lol, he's funny!!

Pencil Writer said...

Sweet. Simply sweet. :-}

Jayne said...

Babies help everything to make sense with a touch of magic xxx :)

Bill of Wasilla said...

After traveling and being unable to keep up with my favorite bloggers, I am home now, still overwhelmed, but it is time to catch up. I see that you have had an important wedding, gotten drunk, been sick and scared and that you continue to carry on.

I saw Garrison Keillor on one my planes yesterday. Or at least I thought so, for a moment. This tall, aging, strange looking guy stood up and he so looked like GK that I almost shouted, "Hi Gary!"

But then it did not make sense that he would be flying coach, so I studied him a little more closely and decided that, while the resemblance was uncanny, it was not he.

And now you have been holding a new baby.

I must also hold a certain one, soon.

Debby said...

Now see there, Bill. Garrison Keillor, as a humble Minnesotan,would have been able to talk himself out of flying first class. He would have heard his mother's voice going on about the wasted money. I think that Mr. Keillor would have flown coach just in case he saw some one that he knew who would blab it all over Lake Wobegon that he was so big headed that he had to spend more money to take the same damn flight that they did. :^D You should have jumped up and said, "Hey, there!" and you two famous author people would have sat right down and had a nice talk, and then doncha know, the next thing you'd be blogging about was your trip to Minneapolis, to appear on his radio show. You could have done a cute skit about ice fishing. You could have brought some Inuit friends to show the folks from Lake Wobegon how it is really done. It would have been great. But this will never come to pass because Bill could not believe his eyes. *sigh* Whatever are we to do with you?

steviewren said...

Recently at my niece's baby shower, I was thinking how wonderful it is when we get to see our children grow into adulthood, have the privilege of knowing their children and maybe even get to know our great grandchildren. It's a miracle really...

I wish everyone could/would realize what a blessing children are.

quid said...

Debby... I call what you had a "lifeforce moment" - you never know when they're going to happen, but they quietly take your breath away. And when you look back on them, you are again perfectly in that time. You can even smell the smells.

Sigh. Minnesota people don't fly first class. Ever. Maybe Michelle Bachman does.

quid

Lori said...

Very nice.