Ecstasy of Saint Teresa,
1647–1652 Cornaro Chapel, Santa Maria della Vittoria, Rome
photo credit:
via
We all face pain in our life, the stub toe on the way to work, the toothache that won’t quiet and the countless skinned knee from childhood play.
But some pain is not so fleeting… For some it’s the emotional pain that just can’t be righted, that dark hole that can’t be scaled, still for others it’s the relationship that can’t be fixed and the hearts that will be broken in its wake.
Or the loss of love, be it the pain of a child, whose dreams weren't realized; or your life long coffee and dance partner, your bed now cold, never to feel their warmth again.
This is the real pain that so many face daily… We pass them at the store, getting coffee or at the bank. For years, we sit with them in church or beside them at a football games, never comprehended their pain… So many of us are unable to reach out, make connections, we pass the same faces every day and touch so few…
Or we suffer and feel no peace…
I feel pain today and it shows…
It was supposed to be a special day off with the kids, we had shamrock chocolates to make and leprechaun cookies with special “irish” sugar, but it won’t be… I had to call my Irish Soul-Sister
(ISS).
The girl next door, at 8am and say I need you for five. I need her help putting a pain patch on my back. My ISS was there before the phone touched the cradle.
My ISS, well she can’t hide it from me, her face showed the worry of watching my face illuminated in pain. We have been through it all in the last years… We know the shorthand of each another. It’s the voice, the way she runs her hands to her hair, when she can no longer take another thing, everyone else misses it, but I know it. We feel each other’s weak spots. One look and we can guess the struggle. We know the places to guard and never surrender. We know each other’s hidden stories. Women have this for one another. Maybe it’s the centuries of our men off at war, while the women raise, run, and protect civilization…We just love… And that is why pain will not overrun us.
This body, my body, is weak and broken. It hurts just to breath, much less move, it hurts to talk, to raise my voice to its normal sparkle… I’m so hoarse, from inflammation, from pain… I’m on my couch, with the sunshine warm on my face, and the sun also warms my soul and reminds me that we must continue, there is no retreat...
My Beauties can see it today, too. They sense it and see me struggle. My beautiful children watch with eagle eyes, while I put a Mom smile on just for them. When you see the worry look on adults, you can rationalize, educate and teach…
Not so with your Beauties…. They see a broken parent, and it is scary, and I know, because I lived it… I watched my father die, I watched my mother fight a brain tumor, and lots of other scary things… Through it all, I always, always understood when it was really bad... Children are far more intuitive than we give them credit.
My sweet dear Irish Prince, he starts to act-out and gets a little or a lot fresh. He panics. He has such anxiety. He then over compensates and wants to tuck me-in, kiss and bless my forehead, and I get a well-powered remote. “Rest mom, watch TV, it will be fine”, it’s his own home-spun mantra, I can hear him self-sooth, “Rest mom, watch a little TV, drink a diet coke, you’re going to be fine, watch TV, and nap”.
My Princess, she wants to fix, dust, vacuum, and do the laundry… My girl is 7, far too young to take-on the household, but she just wants to keep busy, very, very busy. I can’t think of a woman alive who has not perfected this skill… Stay busy and I won’t notice that the entire world just blew-up. My sweet little girl... she holds it together, until God bless her she can't. Then she is in a puddle on the floor crying... and I scoop her up, and snuggle her in my bed...
One of my favorite Mystics and Doctors of the Church (what I wouldn't give to have a glass of scotch and talk to her about the conclave.) is Saint Teresa of Avila. She said and I’m paraphrasing a bit, “pain isn't permanent”. But, she also said to God, “if this is how you treat your friends; it’s no wonder you have so few”.
Seriously, she is going to be a drinking buddy when I get to heaven. St. Teresa, she always gives me hope, I know she has had some good chats with God.
Whenever I’m really sick, or things have gotten a wee bit tricky, inevitably someone pulls out the Hallmark Card God line, “God never gives you more than you can handle.”
But, sometimes, I’m not so sure…
I'm overwhelmingly blessed, I have faith, a husband, family (biological) and the friends who are even greater family and a support system that won't quit... He hasn't given me too much...
But for some it is too much. For some beautiful souls, well it takes them. Their hearts were too big for their bodies, the pain was too great. We all know these souls, we have watched them suffer for years of depression, or substance abuse or whatever prevented them from being present with us… to live this life… it overwhelmed them, like a wave coming ashore.
And yet some of us; we don’t go under. Don’t get pulled under by the wave. Why? I think, some of us are able to protect our big hearts outside of our bodies… We are able to open our arms and risk the pain. We are able to see, touch, embrace the gifts we are given. The Gift of each other… Its more than community, it's our relationships within that community.
That is the gift. We can chose to embrace it, let the ones who love us in… really in…
Or we can choose to attempt the fight. Chose to fight, all alone and be in isolation.
We have the choice…
It is not easy, it is uncomfortable, it is at times very painful… And that is what makes the journey one of hopefulness, of courage, of strength…
Have we touched, moved and given, who we really are?… These are the ideas, the stories that live long after we do… The life we lead, the people we love… The souls we touch…
That is the real truth of why pain isn't permanent… But love… Yes, love.
Love is everlasting…
