Last night I left well after dark to see my Mum who had been moved from hospital to hospice in the city. I’m having a love affair with my Ford Ranger, a 4 wheel drive little truck whose CD player can make my lungs vibrate and has been hauling me from the farm, across the city, through construction and past accidents day in, day out and through many nights. What a great truck I found! Not only that, he is beautiful!
To stay awake, I stopped and got a large coffee and a creme filled doughnut covered with powdered sugar. In the dark, music blaring (also to keep me awake), I negotiated detours through parking lots, onto broken pavement and a dozen bicyclists dressed in black just to keep me on my toes. Tractor trailers on the infamous Hiway 70 seemed to all have particularly bright headlamps and I had the heater on and the window open. Staying awake can be work. Eating the sweet, I did not realize I had covered my truck and myself with white powder. Not that I cared… but this morning, I see how very messy my truck, house, life have all become again.
I look for motivation to clean and care for things and that well is dry… for now. I see the dark blue jeans I wore last night and they are well dusted with white. I wonder what the nurses thought last night… my eyes remain really red these days from bursting into tears at unpredictable times. I remind myself to never again pass fleeting judgement upon someone I see in a similar state – we NEVER know what another is facing!
THAT is my lesson from last night. When a vehicle rushes past me on the road, they could be taking a dog to the Vet, going to the hospital for a loved one, needing to meet the ambulance. When I see someone unable to return a smile – what depth of suffering could they be entrenched within? When someone is silent, perhaps it is too painful to speak, or write or reach out. Compassion must grow again inside my soul. I have simply been trying to stay awake and stay alive these days (and nights). All the lessons I am learning will not be squandered – I just need the time to process them. And then, I will write. Write & write… it’s what I do.