The power of now
Mom's been back stateside for about a week, and it's great to have her home, just a 30-minute ride down the turnpike, not a 20-hour flight around the world. She's still jet lagged, but I think she's thankful to have worked out Michael's paperwork at the U.S. embassy in the Philippines. It was my Dad's last request. Though Mom had an opportunity to enjoy her daily massages in the home she & Dad built in the province, I sense that she didn't get too much rest what with being surrounded by family members around the clock & making 7-hour trips between the embassy in Manila and Ilocos Sur.
Since Mom has been back, I have been overwhelmed thinking about other to-dos on my list. Clarifying some hospital and doctors' bills with Blue Cross Blue Shield and Medicare as well as with the doctors themselves. Contacting attorneys on Mom's behalf who specialize in setting up trusts and estate planning. Making sure that we're supporting Mom. This week, I just started to focus seriously on my job hunt and have finally begun to submit my resume to various places. In the meantime, I've also been scheduling tea/coffee/lunch times with friends, letting them know what I'm up to, what I'd like to be doing, so that they're aware . . . & so that it feels more real to me -- what I want to do next.
I meditated this afternoon as the Soundscapes channel played in the background. I chanted my usual, and I was overcome by the real-ness that yes, Mom is back. Dad isn't. Just thirty minutes earlier, I was mad that the day was gray, snow flurried . . . When is the cold going away? And then, for about four seconds, the sun peeked through the bamboo shade. I'm always wondering if Tolle-esque moments like these are Dad's way of saying, I'm here. Don't worry. Feeling Dad's presence, comforting tears reminded me, Appreciate the power of now.
Just last weekend, when we ran an errand at Target, this little sparrow sat on top of the cart next to our car for what seemed some significant seconds. Al seemed to think that the 4-inch creature wanted to stare him down, then shooed him away! . . . Al somewhat disappointed that he could never see the world the way that little bird does or fly the way he does. And I thought the tiny winged one was just Dad wanting to say hi.
Those small moments of now are powerful ones.