Helping my folks navigate the last years of their lives was hard. Still, it’s painful to realize that I will never again hear their voices or hug them. This has been a year of infinite loss, from saying goodbye to my folks to the abrupt loss of the traveling lifestyle that we enjoyed for more than seven years.
I know that we are not alone. This last year has been supremely challenging for most people. As for us, we’re still uncertain about our next step in life. (Stay? Go? When? Where? Aargh!!)
But today, listening to the eternally cheerful Carolina Wren that greets me every morning, I’m reminded of this beautiful poem that Eric read to me recently. It makes me happy. I hope that wherever you are, you have your own version of a Carolina Wren to remind you of gladness.
The Wren From Carolina
Just now the wren from Carolina buzzed
through the neighbor’s hedge
a line of grace notes I couldn’t even write down
much less sing.
Now he lifts his chestnut colored throat
and delivers such a cantering praise–
For the early morning, the taste of the spider,
for his small cup of life
that he drinks from every day, knowing it will refill.
All things are inventions of holiness.
Some more rascally than others.
I’m on that list too,
though I don’t know exactly where.
But, every morning, there is my own cup of gladness,
and there’s that wren in the hedge, above me,
with his blazing song.