A drive of one's own

Wednesdays.  Usually reserved for dinner with my Mom.  Yesterday, after work I stopped by Mom's and dropped off some paperwork for her to sign, grabbed a quick snack and headed to my haircut downtown.  I had the last appointment, 8pm.  Done 40 minutes later, I headed back home on the NJ Turnpike.  I thought about swinging by an old family friend, J.'s, on 6th Street, our former stomping ground, to see how he and his kids were doing.  News of his wife's recent cancer diagnosis, then mild heart attack, then failing liver all in just a little over two weeks weighed heavily on my mind as I have been all too familiar with being in assertive caregiver mode both as a partner and daughter.  With no update since the weekend, I thought that they might have too much going on and decided against a surprise visit.

Like my bus commute, I welcome (not always) the quiet reflective time.  I listened to the Bee Gees on A.'s CD and flipped through the radio stations.  Going up and down on the turnpike always reminds me of when Dad helped to shuffle back and forth  . . . when A. had his open heart surgery.  I tearfully told him thank you.  And he said, Of course, S. We will do anything for you. 

Once I got on the GSP, I turned the music off.  Memories flooded me -- of driving back and forth from P'ville to Jersey City to Hackensack during A.'s recovery as well as back and forth from P'ville to Jersey City to Bayonne and Manhattan in between during Dad's declining health.  Once I arrived home, I decided to decompress and treat myself to an hour of evening yoga.  In addition to a drive of one's own, a yoga hour of one's own is most refreshing too. 

Upon winding down and feeling somewhat reenergized, I was immediately met with heartwrenching sympathy.  A text message from a friend, E., alerted me of J.'s grief at the sudden passing of his wife.  I hurriedly checked fb and clicked onto J.'s profile where numerous notes of condolences were posted on his wall in the past two hours.  Why folks choose to diplay the most sensitive information on fb, I'm still trying to understand.  Something about instant sharing and gratification.  Instead, I chose to send J. an email the next morning.  Unable to sleep, I could only think of J. and his children's heartache at his wife's and their mother's, N.'s, passing -- much too young, much too quickly. 

Sadly this is the third indvidual so close to my age who's been near death or passed away unexpectedly in the past couple of weeks.  So true what they say, things happen in three's.  You just never know. 

"Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage." ~ Anais Nin . . . Almost four years since A.'s journey to a healthy heart, and this upcoming August 30th will mark Dad's second death anniversary.  Still here . . . livestrong.

Oh, the courage we uncover in Life's most trying of times.  An expansive Life, it is.  Akahai e na Hawai'i . . . Akahai e na Hawai'i . . . The most tender & comforting love & light to J., S., and I.  Keeping you in my thoughts and prayers. 

A short note from PSB
PSB is working on getting some kind of update as to the status of our dossier on ICAB's end.  In the Philippines, a certain Mr. R. is nudging a particular social worker Ms. K., who shepherds the dossiers through ICAB's review and approval process.  

Waiting is nothing compared to being in unexpected mourning.