Can you stop by on your way home from Bridgewater? I have something for you. If I don’t answer the door just come around back and find me.
The text went something like that.
I wanted to say no. No, I actually can’t.
It’s the truth.
That is where I was. Where I am right now. Angry at the world. At everything. Still having to function while anticipating grief. And just angry.
My mom is very sick. She is dying. I was not even aware of this on July 26, just two months ago. Now I don’t know if I will get two more months with her.
My rational side got the better of me, because this friend’s house was literally on the way home. Also, I know myself well enough to call my own bluff. Also, she loves me. She is so kind. I needed to receive the invitation of care.
So I stopped on the way home and found her in the extensive backyard flowerbed. She is the kind of gardener who can make an everyday bouquet from twenty varieties of things she has growing, naming each one.
She was still cutting and arranging as I wandered out back and then followed her into the house for the adding of water to the jar and sending of me on my way.
I am bringing you dinner next week. Is Wednesday or Thursday better?
Thursday was a no-brainer, since my husband was leaving for his annual guys’ weekend that day.
Thursday. Thank you.
We chatted briefly in the kitchen, a safe distance from each other, before I left to pick up a child from a friend’s house, in same the neighborhood, on the way home.
Tears filled my eyes.
I don’t know what I need on a good day, and lately the days are not so good. When the text came with several menu choices, I knew instantly the one. She agreed it was one of her best.
She cut me flowers and brought me food.
And that is what I needed.
And I am so grateful.
Thank you, AM, and all of you who have known just what I needed and left in on the porch or dropped it in the mail or sent it by text. You are the hands and feet of real Jesus and love. Thank you for your care during this unbearable hard.