Halfway Home

I catch my first glimpse of Sound through fog and rain as the ferry speeds its way to the island.  A true Northwest greeting, this rain, followed by days of sun, then rain again.

Listening to the surf, seeing the snowy peaks east and west, breathing in the scent of fir trees and salty air, I am home in this joy wash of creation's majesty.

Sharing precious moments with friends and entering back into my beloved faith community seamlessly as if I had never left, I am content.  Music, worship, and fellowship fill the lonely spaces of my homesick soul.

Yet even as my heart belongs to Whidbey Island, it belongs as well to my home in Bartlesville.  I long for hugs from Benjamin and Joelle, anticipate conversation with Dana and Shawn, and think about the dear folk at Good Shepherd.

I'm in an in-between space, halfway home on an island and halfway home on Sooner Road.  If I could be both places at once, I would.

When the past, the present, and the future are all rolled up in one, then I will finally be all the way home--in heaven.

No Foolin'

            I just finished reading Three Corners Has My Cat:  Caregiving in Alzheimer’s Time.  No foolin’.

            Perhaps it seems a strange thing to do, read a book that I wrote over a period of five years and edited many times.  But I wanted to find out what it was like to read the whole thing just like I read any other book.  And it is the best way I know to reminisce about my mom.

            You see, I miss her.  My life took off in a whole new direction soon after she died, and sometimes I can hardly believe how quickly everything has changed.  So it seemed right to take some time to read my book, to pause a bit and remember my caregiving life on the island that I will soon be visiting. 

            The writer in me notices the occasional typographical errors and awkward sentences.  She sees how the manuscript would benefit from professional advice and editing.  But she also notes the poetry of well-turned phrases and feels the emotions evoked by description and dialogue. The daughter in me misses her mother and is so profoundly grateful to have this written recollection.  The caregiver in me still feels the guilt, relief, and grief that those pages record. 

            So I’m feeling sad and nostalgic for the past as well as thankful to have had those years with my mother and my brother and my friends on Whidbey Island.  What a gift that time was!  I am also reminded to embrace each day of my present life with joy and gratitude.  God has blessed me in so many ways here in Bartlesville. 

            Still, I’m looking forward to two weeks of water and mountain views, of worship and music, of fellowship and fun on the island that still feels like home.  And, Mom, I’ll be thinking of you every single day.  No foolin’.