When do I let go of the care of my dear one? When do I acknowledge my limits and release him into the care of others? What happened to the dreams I had of the way my life would be today? Who am I in this shadow place?
As I've begun to take stock of my life, I recognize that as much as I plan and hope and work towards a particular place in the world, there is so much that I cannot predict or control. There is a quote from Isak Dinesen in the movie Out of Africa: "God made the world round so we would never be able to see too far down the road." It's a mercy, this roundness of the world. I think for some of us, if we could see too far it might siphon our will to live.
Today, I am planting my feet in the soil of the present. I am tending to the fragrant garden of my loves and letting go ahead of time of anything that would distract me from the eternal. I am breathing in the scent of my grandchild when he rests his head on my shoulder and allows heavy lids to lead him to a dreamless sleep. I am kissing my husband on his cheek and filing away in memory what his body feels like when I reach up to hold him. I am listening to the sounds of laughter and weeping and everything in between and welcoming it all with tenderness and attention.
I am whispering my fear and love to God in the dark as the road curves ahead of me. I don't know what shadows are there. I only know that night is sweeter when there is company and even the dimmest of candles.